That's just the beginning of the decisions we make on behalf of our children, from the best school to suit their needs, to the clothes they wear to the clubs we enrol them in. I'll be honest, as my other children have grown up it's been a relief not to have to make all these decisions, as well as a delight to observe their imaginative, unexpected and exciting choices in seemingly banal matters.
For La, aged 22, we are still making these decisions and it doesn't get easier because she's an adult know, interacting with the world as a young woman.
It falls on me, mostly to style her hair, buy her clothes, pick out her perfume, with an eye on her achingly stylish sisters, yet anxious not to make her look silly. La is a true eccentric but to dress her in a way which truly reflects her personality could come across as plain weird.
Yes, I know all this seems mundane and trivial but the personal is political, as they say, and since she has reached puberty, occasional comments have been made by the family about La's hairy legs and armpits. It's that time of year when we start exposing more. La is legging-less and her sleeveless summer frocks are starting to get an airing and there's no doubt about it, her hairiness is confronting me again.
For all her adult life, La has sported armpits a la Julia Roberts - has it drawn attention? Is he mocked behind our backs on beaches and in public swimming pools? Do people snigger on a summer's day when she mops her brow when wearing a sundress?
Last week, I admit, these anxieties overcame me, 'other people' are enough of a problem to La, she draws enough attention to herself without me adding to the spectacle. So I succumbed to the ritual. La cooperated calmly while I shaved her underarms in the bath.
Have I betrayed my own principles and somehow sexualised our learning-disabled daughter or am I just ensuring La conforms to the norm among women her age?
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