I’d always concluded that my son’s inability to sit still and concentrate on anything for longer than five minutes was merely the workings of a slightly hyperactive child.
I
didn’t make a song and dance about his ominous attention span throughout the
years because when he wanted to, he’d happily sit transfixed to the TV watching
The Simpsons and the whole ‘Dr Who’ back catalogue for hours on end.
Besides, I just thought that he (like all kids
do) ignored his Mum on purpose.
His
inability to see things from others perspective was what I thought ‘a boy thing’.
I mean, I am a female, so what the hell did I know what boys really feel like.
I put his outbursts down to him being ‘a spoilt brat’ despite him still being stuck in the terrible two’s at nearly eleven years-old.
Take earlier for instance.
Mum, can I have this Dr Who book?
No. I can’t afford it.
Whhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy?
Because if I spend £4 on you then I have to do the same for your sister and I can’t afford to spend nearly £10 on magazines. Not today anyway.
Whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy? (Only fifty decibels louder, so the whole shop comes to an absolute standstill)
I said no.
Whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy? x 15 times (and I am NOT joking).
This was followed by a sit-in demonstration, a screaming tantrum and a totally unprovoked attack on an intricate bottled boiled sweets display, finished off with those loving words...
I hate you. You’re nasty.
Now I love my son with all my heart but, when I tell you that his whining and demanding, groaning, moaning, crying, screaming, shouting, tormenting his sister, repetitive tapping, clicking, rocking and asking the same question sixty zillion times over sends me to the point of insanity, I’m REALLY, REALLY not lying to you.
But, when you have two children the same age, who get treated & loved exactly the same, you’re able to measure and compare their progress and development over the years.
You can’t help but notice the difference when one child responds to the word ‘No’ with a simple ‘Ok, Mummy’ and the other turns into the Devil incarnate on the sheer breath of the word.
But now Thank God, I’m really NOT going mad.
I am legitimately sane. I really don’t have a lunatic child.
There’s a profound reason for his challenging and extremely difficult behaviours.
He has a social and communication disorder and because he’s so highly functioning, it took forever for the people who influence decisions to pick it up.
The most ironic thing is, his diagnosis is the same thing I’ve been telling my kitchen cupboards for years.
