In this fascinating book about her two autistic sons Charlotte Moore describes what would be a nightmare life for most of us.
This last sentence sums up her robust lack of self-pity. George and Sam, who need ‘constant supervision’, are not toddlers but 11 and 13.I’d like to be able to have a bath without anybody else joining me in it … to open my handbag without finding a bitten-off lipstick or a capless, leaking pen … to leave a pot boiling on the stove while I answer the door, without finding that an ingredient I hadn’t bargained for has been added in my absence … to be able to watch television; usually I can’t, because the boys go to bed late. I’d love to be . . . secure in the knowledge that my sons are all safely and constructively occupied without my constant vigilance. But this is just how life is, and I don’t waste time or energy fretting about it.
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