I’m reading…

George and Sam by Charlotte Moore. This is pretty fascinating on rather a lot of levels for me; first its a description of two very different autistic children, brothers, being narrated by someone who can view them from a level perspective. And secondly because they are the nephews of Fran’s godfather and reading a book about 2 children i have heard about, at times, for 10 years, which has references to brothers i know of, or have met and photos of a granddad i have met, is destinctly odd.

I remember Fran’s godfather telling me about their eldest when he was maybe six, just a random remark about a child who at the time i think they thought had Aspergers rather than full blown autism – and thinking even this small incident of running off or something sounded like an insurmountable, terrible crisis that i could never face.

You have to laugh :~)

Its interesting because Moo is currently going through a good phase that makes me wonder if i am slightly mad but a lot of this book is extremely familiar, even if her boys are far higher up the “spectrum” than Moo is, or i hope, ever will be. Its a cautionary tale though; take nothing for granted.

Its made me realize i need to write down all the things about Moo that led me to seek a diagnosis because they are fading from memory and there might come a time when i have to justify to her why i was so worried.

One thing i do know, and i am defiant enough to say it, is i think i am an exceptionally “good” parent of an autistic spectrum child. I love Moo for who she is – i haven’t shed a tear over the official diagnosis, i don’t want to change her and my total motivation for everything i have done or do is to seek better understanding of her, for her by others and for her by herself.

So there. ;~)