Most of my writing can be neatly classified under the genre of confessional narrative. This means I am more apt to share a photo of my most recent line of credit statement, the details of an argument Alex and I had over laundry, or my greatest fears if it means the reader will more easily understand our story.
There are a couple of reasons I continue to overshare our lives on this blog. Firstly, I aim to teach people about Kate and the many facets of her autism and the autisms (the plural is intended) of others. Secondly, it feels good to purge thoughts that might otherwise further scramble my brain and lastly, I get to connect with people like you. You, the reader, who either live a version of our life or have enjoyed learning about us with your glimpse into it.
The confessional part might be a bit much for some. That's okay, though. In a world where we add filters to pictures of our pets, and delete four hundred iPhone shots in favor of the one that curates us best (I'm guilty, too), it can be unnerving to read, amongst the happiness, that this parenting thing or this marriage thing or this 'working for a living' thing can be really fucking hard.
Sometimes, I talk about things that make people uncomfortable. I especially like the dark stuff, the hard stuff. I like to explore it in-depth. I like to get in and try it on and make sure I understand every facet of what hurts. And, I like to, within reason, share it with you.
If I'm to believe social media, the majority of people have it all figured out. You love your spouses more each day and your kids happily bounce from one character-building activity to another. You love coffee, a lot, you build furniture from old pallets and you're generally pleased with life. But, I don't believe you and I suppose some of the things I share here are a reaction against that notion. Not that I don't want you to be happy, but surely there have been bumps along the way.
We marginalize each other by pretending everything is fine. And we make the dark parts scarier when we think we are doing it all alone.
We are consistently falling short because the standards are so high and we have allowed it to be this way for too long.
So, it is with best intentions that I share the good, the bad and the ugly parts of our family.
Now, if you'll excuse me I have to go build a coffee table from re-purposed barn wood before I make homemade pastries.
And if you believe that...
Happy Mail to:
27 Wellington Row
Saint John, NB
Grace and Kate's mom. (Shanell)