David O'Mahony: I want my son to know time is on his side

For one, it goes much faster than you expect. Wasn’t he only in first class about six months ago?

For two, it’s not so much closing a book as leaving it, perhaps, turned with pages facing down, still open though in case you need to come back to it. Not that you do, but that doesn’t mean you necessarily feel finished either. Life is peculiar.

Some of this, to be fair, is rooted in that Daughter, seven, will be at the same school for another few years (for such a joyously free spirit, she apparently takes her school work very seriously when she’s on site).

Some of this lack of completion is rooted in how his brother, Twin 1, could not graduate with him. Not even in the same year, let alone the same school or class. His autism means he needs a special school, and the general dearth of educational spaces for children with disabilities means he was late starting primary school, so is repeating a year to ensure he gets all of the time he’s entitled to.

It should be said — must be said, in fact — that the school he’s in is not only ideal for his needs, but it has seen him thrive with a greater level of language (but if you ask him why he’s not talking, he may still tell you “it’s shit”) and mathematics use this year as his progress is accelerated toward post-primary education.

The fact that he will be in the same school for second level is, in itself, almost a godsend.

He’s also a ridiculous hit with the ladies, and always has been ever since early intervention with Shine in Carrigaline. Not sure where he gets that, but some children just have game, I guess.

Still, in my heart of hearts, I can’t help feeling he should be with his brother. It’s illogical, because they’re both off doing exactly what they need to be doing for their own development, but the heart refuses to be swayed by such niceties as logic. Most parents of children with disabilities may encounter similar emotions — happiness for one sibling and a different sort of happiness for the other, tinged with the faintest bittersweet notes that life, for all its multitude of glories, can be rigidly unfair.

They look very little alike, by the way. Twin 1 is not only taller, but far more robust, with Twin 2 — despite a recent sprouting in his legs — tending more toward the lithe.

Measure of success

Well-read and tech-interested in a school system where sport is too frequently the measure of success, he has his niche of friends and is quite staunchly his own person.

Our columnist Jen Horgan, writing earlier this week, reflected on what is and isn’t valued in this country: Kindness is recommended, but not rewarded, in schools; finances are considered a key measure of success, for example.

Perhaps he could have done with having Twin 1, who considers himself the big brother and is not happy when something upsets his siblings, around when he had trouble with other students (although he might have clocked them on his brother’s behalf — he can be very direct).

But perhaps we’ll find his weathering of these things, with support from ourselves and the school, stands to him as he voyages into post-primary education and beyond. He has, in just recent weeks, unexpectedly found himself so comfortable in performance on stage that we almost didn’t recognise him. There are gems and hidden depths in there that will show with just a little bit of digging, apt when you consider how he still likes experimenting in Minecraft.

Although, in a sign of growing up, he’s just as interested in Mortal Kombat now. Growing up, but not there yet. I can’t judge, as I was born old; still, I can offer the advice of someone who got it a touch wrong and should have spent more time as a stupid teenager doing stupid teenage things.

Time is on his side, yes it is

As one of the youngest in his entire year, much as I was when I went to school back in the Stone Age, Twin 2 is still very much hovering on the cusp of actual childhood and whatever passes for teenage angst these days.

I mean, Cthulhu help us, we’ve already had the odd flash of sulky teenager, even if his little sister can already out-teen him on a daily basis (it’s galling; send help, Beloved Wife and I are outnumbered).

At the same time, I’m encouraging him to try and avoid growing up too fast. That’s hard, probably always has been, but with cyberbullying an ever-present reality for children and misinformation exploding from every orifice of the internet, it seems to be even harder. But he is bright, and still listens to us (most of the time), and I have every faith in him.

I mean, at 12, he already has an idea of what he wants to do with his life — a programmer specialising in role-playing games, in case you’re interested — so he’s off to a good start. I hated school, and he doesn’t, so that’s in his favour too.

And if he changes his mind, well, that’s the good thing about being young — the future isn’t even remotely fixed, but utterly in their own hands.

• David O’Mahony is the Irish Examiner assistant editor, a short story writer, and a historian.