It is looking like The Boy will start at a new school in the new year. It took an email to the Head of the Local Authority threatening them with the local press but it seems to have worked. It's taken eighteen months of misery for him, and then one email turns it all round instantly. If only I'd known sooner.....
In the meantime I am teaching him at home. It turns out I'm not a very good teacher. Today we are learning about Pascal's Triangle (his school set the topic). I have googled it, and now know what I am teaching. I can't think of a single, possible reason why Pascal's Triangle is of any use to a ten year old boy who hasn't mastered using a knife and fork yet, but I'm sure it will become clearer later.
No it won't. I hate Maths. Autistic children traditionally like Maths. (I saw the other day some parent banging on that the phrase 'autistic children' is offensive. I should say 'children with autism' apparently. Thanks for that, 'man with a dick on his head'). Where was I? Oh yes, traditionally members of the human race with a diagnosis of an autistic spectrum disorder (catchy) like the routine of maths, the consistency, it often isn't open to interpretation. Well I hate Maths. And I hate Pascal's Triangle, even though I didn't even know it existed until twenty minutes ago. And today, I will ensure that The Boy hates Pascal's Triangle too. I'm just hoping we don't get interrupted by an OFSTED inspection. Now sit down. The bloody lesson is about to start.
This blog is about bringing up The Boy. He's 12 years old and autistic. It's written by The Dad. It's my words, my view. Other people will think differently and have different opinions. Good.