Most evenings in our house follow the same rhythm. Dinner, a bit of TV, stories, a goodnight kiss, all the motions that should signal the end of the day. But for my daughter, bedtime isn’t an ending. It’s the start of a long, restless stretch of hours that neither of us can seem to tame. She’s autistic, and sleep has always been slippery for her. While the rest of the world powers down, she powers up. She’ll read under the covers, hum to herself, draw entire dream worlds in h

The summer holidays: a time of year that, for most parents, is a cocktail of excitement and dread. On one hand, you look forward to more...