I have no desire to be famous.  Not even internet famous.  I have no plans to post #ootd which, if I’m honest, would involve different pairs of leggings (jeans if I’m feeling fancy) and very comfortable, orthopedically supportive shoes.  I don’t have the patience to write self-deprecating captions about how I woke up like this, and if I did (and the captions were accurate) no one would want to see the photos.  

I’m just blogging for fun, trying to make connections with other parents and sharing the humorous parts of what can be very long and tricky days, punctuated by too brief and often interrupted periods of unconsciousness before we’re right back at it.  If I can make someone else crack a tiny, knowing, commiserating smile, maybe my day hasn’t been a total disaster after all.  Veering in the general direction of disaster, sure, but hitting the brakes just in time.

But I’m also mindful that I’m sharing stories that involve other people, who may or may not agree with my characterizations of events or their actions.  I’d also hate for a future boss or current coworker to Google my name (or my kid’s or husband’s) and come away with a wack-tacular impression of me (us).

Solution: pseudonyms and stock photos.

My husband was enthusiastic about the possibilities.

Me: “Hey, sweetie, do you want a pseudonym on the bl—”

Ryan: “YES.”

Oh boy.  I had a feeling I was in for it.

“Okaaay, what do you want it to be?” I asked, instantly regretting my foolishness.

“Tony Stark,” he responded, perhaps inspired by our son, sitting on daddy’s lap in an Iron Man onesie.

“No.”

“Fine.  Thor.”

“No.”

“Aw, what’s wrong with Thor?  Or Tony Stark?”

“I can’t name you after a Marvel superhero.  It would sound like fan fiction but without all the good stuff.”

“You’re no fun.”

“Agreed.”

“Fine.  If we’re being as boring as possible, call me A-25-Q.”

“No.“

“Fine.  Luke— ”

“Sure.”

“—Skywalker.”

“No.”

“You know what you are?  Unreasonable.  I’ve given you so many valid options—”

“Four ridiculous options.”

“Fine.  Han Solo.”

“Five.”

Ultimately he settled on Ryan.   I can only speculate that it’s the name of a lesser-known superhero—something akin to Ant Man—and he pulled one over on me, but it beat his other suggestions.

Another wonderful thing about using fake identities is that I can make all of us look much more sophisticated, stylish, and photogenic than we actually are.  This is a particularly useful approach during a pandemic, when my standards of personal grooming took a bit of a hit.

I have many things to say, some of which I want to share with the world.  But at heart I’m an introvert who hates controversy who’s also protective of her family. So if you were wondering why I occasionally appear on Instagram reels with just a headless torso or the back of my head…that’s why!

No shade to bloggers who share pictures of their kids, because I have to admit, I also love to see what other people are up to, especially when their children are a similar age to mine, or when their families also include autistic individuals.  It’s a form of light voyeurism, I suppose.

We all just want to know if what we’re experiencing is normal or not (even if nothing and no one is normal, whatever “normal” means), and what might be coming one or five or ten years down the road.  I hope to share a few milestones on our journey that others might see and relate to.

No one in this family is a superhero — sorry, Ryan!  We’re not Thor or Iron Man or Wonder Woman or Captain Marvel.  

We’re all just internet anonymous humans doing our best.  And that’s pretty cool, I think…right?

Go humans go!

P.S. Follow along on Instagram, Twitter, or Facebook for more humor and commiseration.

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