Most of the time I am happy that people don’t know what really goes on behind my front door. I live in a quiet dead end street in an end terraced house with neighbours either side of me. Ordinarily that would be fine but I also have two children with additional support needs. Between them both they have diagnosis as long as my arm including autism, global developmental delay, neurofibromatosis type 1, anxiety, visual impairment, learning difficulties and a whole heap of sensory issues. One of the twins is non verbal.
Maybe one day I will tell my neighbours some of their issues. But right now I am having fun wondering what they might tell you about us.
The lady two doors down might tell you about the morning she saw me wave my daughter goodbye to nursery on the bus while she happened to look out her window just as my son was running down the street flapping wearing nothing but his red school jumper! If you are going to talk to my neighbours it may be best to avoid that one.
The previous neighbour to my right that moved out last year may not have been a good choice to talk to either. He might tell you about the time he caught my son standing at his camper van licking it clean! Thankfully he sold up and moved out a few months later so I might not hear about that one again.
Mind you the couple and their son who moved in after him may be best avoided too. They would only tell you about the screams they hear from my children most nights like they are being killed. I could tell them I am only cutting heir nails or washing their hair but somehow I doubt they would believe me.
The neighbours the other side are not the best choice either I’m afraid. They could tell you about the time they had friends over for a BBQ and turned around to find my son helping himself to the food while they were all busy chatting. Please, please avoid the wife! She was sunbathing one day and as she looked over her hedge she saw my naked son running along side the hedge with his eyes right up against the bush peering through it. I maybe should tell her he is visually impaired but unfortunately she isn’t, so she probably thinks the naked child requires more of an explanation. She hasn’t been sun bathing as much this year for some reason.
The elderly lady across the road could tell you a good few stories. Like the time she saw us manhandle our child into a taxi and wave goodbye to him and he screamed in sheer horror. One day I might explain it was a different colour car that day and he could not cope with but in the meantime it maybe best to keep your distance. She has also saw us a few time wave our hands in glee as the children left for nursery or school and I have a feeling she thinks we look too happy to see them go. There could be some truth in that some mornings.
When we moved into this street we were reliably informed that it was quiet and that there was very little movement in terms of people selling up. It was seen as sought after. We seem to have pleased the estate agents though as since moving in at least three houses on the street have changed hands. We must be a good influence I think.
I’m quite sure my neighbours wonder why my son always wears the same school jumper everyday. Or why we have so many ‘visitors’ who come for around an hour a time and then go again (Social workers, occupational therapists, speech therapists, physiotherapists). They are maybe suspicious of the plain white van that drops huge boxes to us once every two months (nappy delivery month), or wonder why we get our refuge collected once a week when they are on a fortnightly schedule (that’ll be those nappies to blame again!). If they knew where we were going they may wonder why we take the kids to hospital appointments so often or why if they come to the door it is always locked and the key hidden away (think back to the half naked child escaping). They may wonder why my son never talks to them or my daughter won’t look them in the eye. They may even wonder why they see me regularly carrying six year olds who are screaming and trying to bite me. They have no doubt not seen many parents hang out bedding that is half eaten before or hear a child so distraught because you dared peg an item of clothing out without the pegs matching. If they saw my weekly shop they may even judge us for buying only the same select few things every week. A balanced diet in this house means a biscuit in each hand sometimes!
I’m not sure my neighbours have heard of autism. But I do know they have heard my children! If you want to find out about me please talk to me and whatever you do…just don’t ask my neighbours!