Hi friends! I am just home from an appointment that didn’t happen because I got the time wrong, and thinking about the perpetual struggle of ‘staying on top of things’. Appointments, kid stuff, writing, housework, health, friendships, and family time. It is safe to say I am never ever ‘on top’ of said things and am actually at least partially submerged at all times. How is everyone else’s month going? Anna, how are you?
Heya! Kay I’m so excited for your big reveal below… and terrified of my own approaching deadlines. I have CBCA book awards ‘host’ duties coming up, and the dreaded edit of book two to hand in. Apart from that, we’ve got year 12 nearly finished for the eldest and wow, it’s hard decision time. Good luck to anyone in the same boat.
The Overshare is broken up into seven sections: Listen Up–for all things auditory and musical, All The Feels–for sensory gadgets and neurodivergent products we are loving, Off The Shelf–bookish things including what we are reading and upcoming events, Uh Oh–life disasters, bloopers and social mistakes, Leaving The House–pretty self explanatory, Who Put Me In Charge–challenges in parenting, executive functioning, and life admin, and Scratch Pad–to share new writing bits and pieces. Let’s do it.
Listen Up
Kay: Let’s talk about noise. I know it probably seems like a contradiction to enjoy listening to loud music when I am driving by myself, but then to not be able to fall asleep because the fridge is too loud. That’s autism, baby! For me, it makes total sense. When I am in the right headspace for it, and in control, turning up loud music is sensory seeking; it feels really good. Other times, when I am trying to sleep (the everlasting struggle), or when I am in an overwhelmed state, my sensitivity to noise is heightened. Another element of this is when there are too many different noises happening on top of each other. Like in a café, with multiple conversations, loud music, and traffic outside. That is hellish. Do neurotypical people like eating in loud cafes? Or do you just not notice?
While I am on this topic, WHY is every indoor space geared towards children such a sensory nightmare? We trialled an indoor gymnastics class last week, because A loves to run and jump and climb and swing and never stop moving. And by trial, I mean we walked in the door and immediately out the door. The awful Top 40 music was blaring so loudly I couldn’t even hear the person at the front desk as she tried to explain the rules. Does that kind of setting work for neurotypical kids? I don’t feel like it would. And the same goes for every play centre/bounce/aquarium/inflatable/rollerskate/family dining place we have ever been. They aren’t accessible to autistic people and it feels very exclusionary. Wouldn’t it be better for everyone if we just chilled TF out with the noise?
Anna: What Kay says. I always felt like the worst parent for not wanting to go to these places. My children missed parties, or we both left with migraines. I wear noise cancelling headphones for airports, shopping centres (when I can) and public transport. I’m not sure I’d have the courage at a children’s party, to be honest. All I could do was offer different kinds of parties in the hopes it would catch on. More party ideas in Who Put Me In Charge?
All the feels
Kay: I saw a parenting tip somewhere (Instagram, I think) that was ‘just add water’. It works for everyone in our household. When stress levels are high, or a meltdown is rumbling, we head for the beach, the river, the hose, the bucket, the bath. At the moment our current obsession is bath bombs. Specifically, the expensive and very heavily scented Lush variety (use with the windows open). I can’t justify buying good shampoo, but I did just drop $50 on bath bombs, and I’d do it again!! Watching them dissolve is better than any prestige television limited series. They look, sound, and feel like magic. Now if they would just make a non-scented (but still colourful) variety…
Off the shelf
Kay: For anyone who might have missed the brief mention in the intro, Anna is a finalist in the CBCA Book of the Year for Older Readers category for Peta Lyre’s Rating Normal. And of course she is, because it is such a brilliant book. Read more about the awards here.
Okay, so this month I read Late Bloomer by Clem Bastow. If I could give you any advice, it would be to also read Late Bloomer by Clem Bastow. It is REALLY GOOD. It is a memoir about how an adult autism diagnosis changed a life. Clem’s writing is so beautiful I want to eat it. The book is also full of pop culture gems and a brief history of autism, and I don’t think you need to come to it with any kind of understanding about autism, or as an autistic person, to enjoy it. Maybe you’ll love it for the stories about Ghostbusters, music journalism, celebrity interviews, cosplay, or the Royal Melbourne Show. It contextualises so much of the medical and diagnostic language around autism through the stories of a living, breathing human, and helped me understand myself a little better too. Funny, clever, heartfelt, just all the things.
I also got to do a cover reveal for Social Queue, which is out on September 28. Here it is, in all its glory. I am so in love with the gorgeous design from Jessica Horrocks at Text Publishing. This book has been such a joy to work on, and I can’t wait to share it with readers. You can pre-order now.
The blurb:
‘I thought I was nobody’s teen crush, but turns out I was just missing the signs.’
Zoe Kelly is starting a new phase of her life. High school was a mess of bullying and autistic masking that left her burnt out and shut down. Now, with an internship at an online media company—the first step on the road to her dream writing career—she is ready to reinvent herself. But she didn’t count on returning to her awkward and all-too-recent high-school experiences for her first writing assignment.
When her piece, about her non-existent dating life, goes viral, eighteen-year-old Zoe is overwhelmed and more than a little surprised by the response. But, with a deadline and a list of romantic contenders from the past to reconnect with for her piece on dating, she is hoping one of her old sparks will turn into a new flame.
Social Queue is a funny and heart-warming story about deciphering the confusing signals of attraction and navigating a path to love.
Uh oh
Anna: There’s a chance my 8 year old M is going to say something at school soon that will warrant a call from the teacher. M is pretty funny, but these last few weeks she’s been down right hilarious. Most mornings we drive to school saying either “I wanna be SASSY!” in our best US accent, or “I don’t care if I get run over” in Scottish accents. Why…? The sassy thing was a random statement of hers that got out of hand. We have no idea where the getting run over one came from. The Scottish accent, apparently, is from a cartoon (The Dragon Prince). We love saying it over and over, and revel in the the sounds, and feel of the words in our mouths. To make matters worse, I’ve started a CBD oil trial* and my eldest keeps calling me a stoner and a pot head.
If M goes to school and sprouts “I don’t care if I grow up to be a sassy stoner like my mum!” there may be issues :/
*This is not medical advice, and yes I’m under medical supervision.
Leaving the house
Anna: I have left the house this week! My CBD oil treatment has reduced anxiety to the point where I have popped to the shop. Yes, me. I managed to look interested in greenhouses for my 17 year old for at least ten minutes. Luckily, I can’t stand for longer than that and had to take a break. However, the decision between two greenhouses (when you don’t have the same special interest) is nothing but torture. My great escape? I offered to buy her the more expensive one so we could just leave. Win! I don’t go out often so I could afford the splash.
[Please also be proud of me for letting her drive me everywhere all week and not completely losing my shit]
Who put me in charge?
Anna: Earlier, we mentioned hellish ‘child’ spaces. Here are some party ideas that I’ve tried in the hopes they were more autism/adhd friendly. Nothing over a hundred dollars, and my kids don’t have ‘parties’ every year. Yes, I’m known as a strange mother.
Craft parties; from making/beading/painting of all sorts, to painting bisque fired pre-bought ceramic mugs and tiles. Add pizza for the older kids. Get the ceramics fired and it still works out cheaper than a paid party place.
Dungeons and Dragons. I paid a professional dungeon master to host a group of four 12 year olds on the proviso the narrative wasn’t too scary or gruesome. It was perfect, they were completely enthralled! He was understanding and made sure they each felt important. (Ask at your local games store for a good DM!)
I put up a cheap green screen, and they tried on fancy or cool op-shop clothes. They were 13-14, and with popcorn and a DVD it was a great night. One hated photos but loved holding the camera and learning the tech side. Social media restrictions were discussed before hand. (pics below!)
*Not* inviting the whole class is also okay.
Kay: These are so good, thank you. I will be using them.
Scratch pad
Kay: I have a memoir essay about autism and motherhood being published very soon, but I don’t have anything polished to share here right now. So instead, please enjoy this 200-word brain dump that I hope will become an essay in the future. It is very much at the ‘here are some thoughts in a word doc’ stage. That’s what my process looks like. It isn’t pretty, but that is how it goes. So when I share something that has been published, know it has its origins in a word doc full of scrambled thoughts. Does anyone else do this?
~
Wrung Hands
Handwriting is supposed to say a lot about a person, so I wonder what it means that mine is not my own.
I am an author, but please don’t ask me to sign a copy of my book. Or, what I really mean is, please don’t be disappointed when my signature does not resemble the elegant cursive you would imagine for someone of my profession.
My handwriting is a source of shame, of masking, of lack of identity, of physical pain.
My old schoolbooks tell a story, from the shaky lower-case letters traced over dotted lines, to the very proud day I acquired my pen license, certificate and all. I can pinpoint the grade (year five) I met the girl who drew her a’s so much cooler than mine, little upside-down g’s instead of apples with a line. I started drawing my a’s that way too, but my hand revolted.
Writing has always been a source of pain. Cramps, spasms. I know now my having ‘weak hands’ could be linked to my being autistic.
Handwriting is a dying art, nobody learns cursive anymore. History of handwriting/penmanship as status symbol
After thirty-three years at war with my hands, I am ready to call for a truce. Do I even have my own handwriting style, after copying someone else’s for more than twenty years?
Omg you have both written my life. My daughter finished year 12 in 9 weeks. Despite missing a fair bit of school due to anxiety she is doing well. I believe she’s undiagnosed but she is not interested in pursuing it. She works at Mini Bounce part time and when she finishes her shift she has a massive nap. But she says she loves it.
As for birthday parties. The best and cheapest one I had for my then 16 year old daughter was to hire an outdoor inflatable movie screen. Was a smidgeon over the $100 budget but so worth it.
Thanks for sharing it helps me soooo much