You ask me “Does your eldest child have autism?” “Yes.” I reply. “I’m so sorry.” My stomach lurches. No. Please. Don’t say you are sorry. I know you mean well. I was once like you. But don’t apologise for the gift that is my boy – for any part of him. I know that the… Read More
Personal Tribute to my Grandmother, spoken at her funeral on Tuesday 12th July 2016. When I was eighteen, and studying for A-levels, my good friends Gemma and Louise came round while mum, dad and George were away. We had spent the evening having fun, eating food, listening to music, no doubt drinking Bacardi Breezers and… Read More
Sweet boy, you’re different. Not to mummy. Not to daddy. Not to Little Bean. You are our whole world and everything in it. Each eccentricity, each little quirk and trait – they are the rich and joyful substance of our lives. We know no ‘normal’ but the world we inhabit with you. And, to us,… Read More
I am sorry that, too often, the world is a confusing and frightening place. I am sorry that a word out of place can make you sob till you shake. I am sorry that every day, a million tiny things break your heart. I am sorry that sometimes, the world will not understand why something… Read More
You wear your heart on your sleeve. You need to hold back a little, develop a thicker skin. Don’t let it get to you so much. I’ve heard it so many times. Am I a natural victim? I am walking down a crowded high street pushing my little boy in his trike. He is nearly… Read More
The light catches your curls and the childish curve of your chin and nose – so perfect – like porcelain, but soft, alive, vibrant. You are happy on my lap, greedily drinking in the delights of the view into the garden. Sometimes, I am so tired, I feel I might break. Sometimes, all I know… Read More
I was a teacher for over twelve years before my son was diagnosed with autism. Before he was born, I had taught countless pupils on the autistic spectrum, but it was not until my son’s diagnosis that I was able to fully appreciate the gaps in my knowledge. I hope the tips I am going… Read More
Nearly one year ago, I sat in a cramped room with unpleasant, flickering lights, while a doctor I barely knew told me you were autistic. The me sitting in that room is a half a million minutes away; a great gulf of time and experience separates us. I hardly know the path I took to… Read More
Dear Sir and Madam, I am writing to you in order to inform you of the current situation regarding my son. I write the blog, Someone’s Mum, which has chronicled the ups and downs of our diagnosis, and I will be publishing this letter there. With your permission, I would be happy to publish your… Read More
It’s 7.35 pm and thunder is echoing across the dark and cheerless M5. Rain is hammering down and all I can make out in front of me are the angry water-colour spots of the lights of the cars in front. Melancholy country music is spilling into my car from Radio 2, and I am crying.… Read More
Dear Teaching, We’ve been together such a long time; I hardly know where I end and you begin. My body beats to the rhythm of terms and bells – the long, cold slog to the end of the winter and the inevitable Christmas cold, the summer term that should be easier, but somehow never is,… Read More
You think you’re grown-up. The hastily wiped-off lip gloss and false eyelashes that I confiscated before assembly beg the world to see it – but you’re not quite there. I can see the pudgy toddler cheeks hiding beneath the look of slight disdain. In place of perfectly arranged ‘scruffy’ buns, I can see where, once,… Read More