MOST of us have heard of dyslexia and know that those who have it struggle a little more at school and need extra help. However, few have heard of dyspraxia and even less of dysgraphia yet these conditions are also found in our schools and are problematic to those who have them.

My son Sam was diagnosed with dyspraxia six years ago.

I knew something was wrong, as did his teacher who despaired of his classroom performance, but I was still shocked, in fact devastated, when the diagnosis came through.

Dyspraxia comes from the Greek word 'praxis', which means 'doing' or 'practice'. It is defined as difficulty with thinking out, planning, and doing tasks.

I had never heard of dyspraxia and when I looked it up on the web and saw long pages on a massive range of symptoms I cried.

From being unable to tie up shoe laces or place months into seasons, to difficulty in standing up, let alone standing still, all combined with complex learning issues. This long list of 'symptoms' described what I thought of as endearing traits of my son, who I presumed was a slow developer.

I realised then that these things would not disappear and he would always struggle to do basic things most of us take for granted.

To people who have never heard of this condition I describe it as a kind of physical dyslexia, although purists would pull me up on that. Otherwise known as Development Coordination Disorder it is four times more common in boys and affects one in 20 children.

Fine and gross motor skills are most affected. Gross motor skills affect things like balance and sporting ability whilst fine motor skills are needed for tasks like holding a pen.

At 16 Sam finds it difficult to butter bread, shoes are slipped on, as he avoids doing up laces, and he has the scruffiest handwriting in his class. But if the last six years have taught me anything, it is to not focus on what he can't do but celebrate what he can.

He has a huge heart and is loved by his friends -- to whom he is extremely loyal -- he has a great capacity for fun, and his boundless energy makes him the life and soul of the party.

Being a joker in the classroom might have infuriated his teachers but means he has developed an excellent sense of humour and is always sharing a joke with someone.

Cuddle

He is sensitive to people's moods and consequently always there with a hug. He has not yet outgrown giving his mum a cuddle.

He is not academic, but he is a success in so many other ways, and he has a career plan that might take time, but is entirely achievable.

As a family we've spent time at the school, we've trodden the path of extra homework, we invested in private tuition and pursued alternative remedies.

But the one piece of advice I would share with any parent, that has gotten us through more than anything else, is be patient.

For all the lost letters, forgotten schoolbooks, misplaced school uniform, for all the shuffling, fidgeting, the 'I only touched it' before it broke, all those 'it was an accident' as you look at the remains of your iPod, PC or anything else they go near, nothing will get you through like patience.

It is incredibly frustrating having to teach a child the same thing over and over -- the school system has a long way to go before adequately supporting these children.

This might seem very disheartening if you are at the beginning of the journey, with school meetings and exam worry ahead of you, but I found light at the end of the tunnel, and the light was Sam himself.

See www.dyspraxiaireland.com or phone 01 4045530

Gillian Cunningham's son Jack, now nine, was diagnosed with dyslexia at seven.

Joe and Gillian Cunningham, from Sandycove in Dublin, had two daughters before Jack came along several years later.

Gillian suspected something was wrong with Jack's learning ability, but as he was their first son, she thought it might be due to boys developing later than girls.

However, after a couple of years in school she spoke to his teacher and they agreed he should have an assessment by the educational psychologist.

"I felt it was important, so we went private," says Gillian, who preferred not to comment on the time it might otherwise have taken to get her son diagnosed.

"Once I knew it was dyslexia I thought there were different treatments we could try.

Exercises

"He has been seeing a speech and language therapist for a while and has recently finished a course of Axelsons Technique."

Axelsons is based on a programme of massage with specific exercises. The exercises are aimed at improving balance, co-ordination and sequencing.

"I feel it really helped Jack with his dyslexia. He had a lot of trouble with his concentration and sequencing before the Axelsons. Now he is back with the speech and language therapist after spending time practising the exercises and you can really see a difference."

According to Katie Losty, who runs courses on the Axelsons Techniques in Dublin, all courses are tailored around the child's needs and vary in length, although most are 12 weeks long. During that time Katie monitors progress, aided by parental feedback and a homework schedule of exercise is drawn up.

Although Gillian is very happy with her son's progress and now says he is only borderline dyslexic, such programmes might not suit all those with this disorder.

Niav Keating of the Dyslexia Association of Ireland says: "When it comes to alternative therapies the DAI does not advocate specific programmes or alternative therapies.

"No one approach or method suits everyone.

"There are so many different types and degrees of dyslexia, which means that programmes need to be tailored to suit the specific learning profile, and individual strengths and weaknesses of each person with dyslexia."

Niav also says that the response from their members to a range of alternative therapies has been mixed.

"Some have found it helpful but many others have found little or no benefit."

However, Gillian remains positive about her experience.

"I cannot prove it was the Axelsons that helped Jack, but he is much improved and as it's important to try to help them early I am glad we tried it. We'd do anything to help him."

For further information visit www.katielosty.com .

Craig Larner is 16 years old. He was diagnosed with dysgraphia (a deficiency in the ability to write) five years ago. Here he tells us what life is like in the education system with this little understood condition.

"Learning to write was possibly the hardest thing I've ever done in my life. Even after going back to original legibility classes, I have pretty much given up on writing and stick with my trusted keyboard instead. Things became difficult the moment I entered the education system.

"My Montessori teacher would ask the class to do some colouring in but whenever she asked me to take out my colouring pencils I would fight tooth and nail and go do something else. According to my parents, I was nearly expelled for it.

"When I started Junior Infant classes things became worse. The teacher started going over the shapes of letters by giving them names such as Annie Apple and Munching Mike. Once the class was working away, the teacher would then have to sit down with me to go over it again.

"Most kids fear getting into trouble for misbehaving, I feared getting in trouble because my hand wouldn't do what my brain told it to.

"When I hit primary school my very first teacher actually sent me to the principal's office over my writing, saying that it was the result of laziness and an unwillingness to work. The principal gave me a verbal slap on the wrist, hoping some improvement would be made, which of course never happened.

"The teacher used to write all of the homework up on the board and have us take it down, all the children that could write, that is.

"It was truly humiliating, especially at that age because every other child found it hilarious that you were unable to do something they could.

"Some teachers were different and would comment that I seemed very bright once they had a conversation with me, something that couldn't be gleaned from my written work.

"By the time I reached sixth class I had a wonderful, diligent teacher, who would sit for ages making sure that I understood every part of my paper. I would not like to mention his name, but I would like to point out that he was a shining star in a dark sky of what was the education system six years ago.

"Secondary school began and as soon as the tests started, my parents sat down and tried to cram as much knowledge as they possibly could into my head and force me to write it down. I got in quite a few emotional shouting matches with my father over this.

"My mother also intervened and punished me for getting too frustrated with this difficulty that no one else seemed to understand.

"I don't hold it against them now. In their day such conditions were a myth to teachers, and if a boy had dyslexia, let alone dysgraphia, he was simply dismissed as 'thick' and left behind.

"Eventually an English teacher made the observation that something just wasn't fitting together.

"She said I was witty and intelligent but this wasn't coming across in my work. She researched the disability and brought it to the attention of my parents.

"It was Christmas of second year when I was brought for a full examination.

"When the results came I was torn for quite some time after, often having random outbursts of anger and depression, mostly from worry about what would happen when other people in school found out. Other children were very confused as to why I was using a laptop in class but the upside was that I was doing well in school.

"My English teacher did a small test giving me two examinations, one written and one typed, to see what the difference was.

"On the written one, I scraped a D. On the typed test, I earned an A1 with 96pc and gained some respect from my teachers for a change.

"It was a drastic difference and my self esteem felt the high end of this. I realised maybe I wasn't going to fail at everything. I had recently given up on guitar believing it to be too difficult for me. But my small school victory spurred me on and having been presented with a new guitar from my uncle I threw myself into practising.

"I spent a solid six months at it before forming a band and before I knew it, we had played a few gigs and recorded some songs.

"I've been called names at school, but I rest assured that their comments will eventually come back to them. I know that I can continue into most of my preferred areas of employment without a scratch. I may never be an architect, but I'll make a damn fast secretary!"

- Sarah Spendiff