Back to school, back to reality. (No, this isn’t a rework of the Soul II Soul classic.) Back to high anxiety, back to a child going off the rails. “You can’t come in here,” DS1 pleaded, a look of absolute panic on his face. “But this is my lounge too,” I replied. “I am allowed to go where I like in my own house.” Apparently not. An increasingly agitated DS1 pushed me with all his

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“Can we go back now?” pleaded DS1 “No, we’ve only just arrived.” I’m sure all parents suffer from this particular scenario when visiting a UNESCO World Heritage Site. But when the autism kicks in, it goes to another level. To be fair, he had thoroughly enjoyed walking around the ruins of Ancient Olympia – re-enacting races on the grounds where the Olympic Games was born some 800 years BC, as well as taking the time

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“I need a shower,” said DS1. I stood there open-mouthed. Those were words I never thought I’d hear my son say. Admittedly, we were on holiday. Different place, different rules, perhaps. And he was plastered in sand, and could probably foresee the merits of cleaning off the plethora of grains stuck to his body before lying down on his bed. As for the bed, that was a whole different story. We were staying in a

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