How I realised my child might have dyspraxia

I was diagnosed with dyspraxia at 35.

Looking back, I’d been aware since early childhood that I was ‘different’ when it came to physical activities and general visual-spatial awareness.

As my daughter grew up, I spotted echoes of my own childhood in those activities that didn’t come naturally to her.

Below are ten examples I noticed over time. By sharing them, I hope this post help parents who may be wondering whether their child could be dyspraxic.

I’m a firm believer that learning about others’ lived experience of neurodiversity is a valuable way of validating one’s own experiences.

Knives and forks

There were no major concerns with cutlery, but she was – and still is – just a little messier than her peers. She also finds carving meat tricky, such as chopping a chicken breast.

This links to an important point: dyspraxia exists on a spectrum. It’s not just about what a child can’t do, but those tasks that take them longer or are just a little bit trickier than for most – signs that could easily be overlooked.

Chopsticks

As she got older, she tried chopsticks but found them really difficult. She resorted to using cutlery when eating East Asian food.

I’d be fascinated to know whether dyspraxic children from China, Japan or Korea experience the reverse challenge when learning to eat with knives and forks.

Shoelaces

She’s now 17 and still struggles with shoelaces.

Interestingly, she manages buttons, brushing her teeth and some other everyday tasks that I know many dyspraxic kids find challenging. But shoelaces have remained a consistent challenge.

Monkey bars

She loved visiting play parks. Slides, swings and roundabouts were favourites.

But, try as she might, she could never get to grips with monkey bars.

What made this a particularly powerful clue was that there was direct comparison – seeing other children move across them so effortlessly.

Taking longer to get ready

A subtle one.

She’s not super-slow, but she’s always taken longer to get ready in the morning than you’d expect a child of similar age.

Team sports

She was very active as a child – she loved parks, cycling, swimming and gymnastics.

Team sports, however, were always a struggle. Coordinating her movements with others’ actions didn’t seem to come naturally.

Riding her bike on the road

She enjoyed cycling, but only felt comfortable on the pavement or in parks or open space.

Like me, she never felt at ease cycling on the road. The visual-spatial demands – judging traffic, crossing lines – seemed overwhelming.

Dance lessons

Unlike me, she enjoyed dancing.

Formal dance lessons, however, were difficult – particularly when it came to mirroring the teacher’s movements. She really disliked these lessons.

Handwriting discomfort

She was ‘top of the class’ for numeracy and literacy at infant school. No concerns at all.

However, as she got older, she seemed to struggle with extended writing, which came as a surprise.

It transpired that the difficulties weren’t with ideas or vocabulary, but with her pen grip. This meant longer pieces of writing were physically uncomfortable and the output slow. Taking this into account, her diagnostician recommended a word processor for exams involving extended writing.

Threading needles

From what I’ve read, this is a very common challenge.

In her own words, she ‘hated’ design and technology lessons because she felt silly when struggling with the fine motor skills required to thread needles. An example of the embarrassment dyspraxics can feel – especially before diagnosis – and the need to practice self-compassion.

What about other children?

I hope this post is helpful to parents navigating similar questions.

If you’ve noticed signs of dyspraxia in your own child, I’d love to hear from you. With your permission, ’d be delighted to share other examples as part of a future post.

Finally, parents might find my posts on dyspraxia at primary school and dyspraxia at secondary school helpful.