It’s one thing facing a major diagnosis; it’s quite another dealing with your partner pulling away. But does the stereotype match the reality?

Jess never dreamed that she was going to get sick, nor did she consider what it would mean for her love life if she did. When she first started dating her boyfriend, they were both in their late 20s, living busy, active lives. “Sport was something we did a lot of and we did it together: we worked hard, played hard, we went for bike rides and went running and played golf together.”

But around a year into their relationship, all that stopped abruptly when Jess was diagnosed with long Covid, the poorly understood syndrome that in some people follows a Covid infection. For her, it meant “a general shutdown of my body: lungs, heart, stomach, really bad brain fog”. She went from being a sporty, independent 29-year-old with a successful career to sleeping all day and relying on her boyfriend for everything.

From tackling child poverty to being honest about Brexit, the party seems to have recognised the growing electoral threat to its left

What does it take for a small child not to recognise their own name? I’ve been thinking about that for days, since reading the Local Government Association’s recent report on a growing crisis in early childhood. We’ve known for a while about children starting school still in nappies, or speaking in Americanisms absorbed from hours stuck in front of YouTube, or even struggling to sit upright because they’ve spent too long slumped over an iPad to develop core muscles. So sadly, it’s not surprising to read of early-years workers telling the LGA they see more and more pre-schoolers who can barely speak, play with others or contain their rage when things don’t go their way. But it was the practitioner who noted that some children “don’t seem to respond to their name” who got to me. You have to wonder how often that child hears a loving adult trying to get their attention. Too often, another practitioner said, “children are not spoken to at home, but offered screens all day” – at mealtimes, out shopping, or in the car – with parents seemingly scared of provoking tantrums if they take the phone away.

The report describes a complex puzzle with multiple causes: poverty, and the parental exhaustion that comes of a hardscrabble life; growing up in a pandemic; changes in early-years provision; and way too much screen time. It can’t be solved by money alone, but certainly won’t be solved without it. So a two-pronged strategy of lifting the two-child limit on children’s welfare payments – as Rachel Reeves did last week – and intervening early where toddlers aren’t meeting their milestones makes sense. The Best Start family hubs rolling out gradually nationwide will, we learned this week, get Send (special educational needs and disabilities) co-ordinators, focusing particularly on speech and language. They’ll promote the upcoming National Year of Reading to wean kids off screens and on to books, and more generally attempt, on a shoestring, to mimic the support that their predecessor programme Sure Start once offered parents. There’s not enough funding – there never is – but there are the beginnings of joined-up thinking, accepting that tackling problems in nursery rather than in primary school is easier, cheaper and kinder on everyone involved.

Gaby Hinsliff is a Guardian columnist