Finley doesn’t have dyspraxia. He doesn’t have anything anyone cares to give a name to because what he is suffering from is sheer joie de vivre….

He is, as I quietly suspected, (but didn’t want to shout about for fear of sounding like I was boasting), an unusually creative, linguistically gifted and emotional child whose feet simply don’t work as fast as his brain. Where we have one solution to a problem Finley is coming up with three and finding the whole matter a muddly old business.

For a child of four he is unusually percerptive, intuitive and visually orientated. He finds the world mildly frightening only because his brain goes into overdrive and pre-empts disaster where other children see none. He is noisy, spirited, chatty and lord help me, curious to the point of distraction. Above all else he is happy.

That the British  education system is not  apparently "set up to deal with kids like Finn" and thus I may find myself with a fight on my hands in order to prevent him  subduing who he is in order to better fit in is a cross I will bear with pride. And so I will fight. I will fight with every instinctive nurturing bone in my body to help my scrumptious little boy (thats his cheeky face he’s showing off up there) be everything he is destined to be….