And I’m feeling quite teary and bleak. Hubby has just spent a while gutting Little Nutter’s bedroom, and the whole house literally reeks in the aftermath.

It’s one of the things about Autism that they never tell you. Poo smeared into the walls and carpet, wee everywhere, and the only way to avoid it is to have someone awake all night with him, because he only sleeps for four hours. Every day for years, we’ve febreezed, we’ve vaxed, we’ve scrubbed and his room smells to high heaven. It’s one of those occasions where we’ve put in all that effort to make things as good as we can possibly get them… and we’ve still failed.

The carpet’s off to the tip and we’ve a nice piece of lino with roadways on it that Little Nutter should really enjoy playing on. And it’s wipe clean, just like his waterproof mattress and hospital panelled wall coverings. All very practical and sensible.

But I’ve got the glums. I don’t want to live in this institutionalised environment. I want to have a few nice things - I work hard for them and deserve them. The realist in me knows that I’ve got no chance, and every now and then it hits me just how different our life is. Here’s hoping the lino and 2007 are better!