I have 9 minutes until Autism Awareness Month ends. Yes, I waited until the last minute. F*ck you.

For those of you who don't know, my amazing son carries some pretty interesting diagnoses. Here they are, in no order of importance. Because any one of them are capable of f*cking up an otherwise LOVELY Sunday morning:

2. Sensory Integration Disorder
3. Disruptive Behavior
4. Generalized Anxiety Disorder
5. Hypotonia

The combination of these five disorders is also commonly known as...wait for it....wait for it...MOTHERF*CKING AUTISM. Yes, I'm frustrated. And pissed. The clinic that diagnosed him last year basically gave him five diagnoses that confuse the F*CK out of his 504/IEP team, instead of one tidy, neatly packaged diagnosis of The A-Word. Also, the woman who did his play therapy assessment outright LIED. She wrote that he engaged in "imaginative play."

Bullshit. I was there and he did NOT. Not that I'm thrilled about it, but let's be honest. When the play therapist asked my son to "think of a story and act it out" with her toys, he looked at her blankly. (Her toys consisted of cars, dinosaurs, people and a CD. Guess which toy he went for first? THE MOTHERF*CKING CD. He tipped it back and forth to watch the color prisms play out. Until she took it away from him and gave him a car.  Three times he said, I don't know what you mean. I don't understand. Finally, he just told her, I don't know how to play with your toys, can I just play with my own toys? And she said no.

During my meeting with the assessment team, the play therapist told me that he couldn't have autism, because a child with autism wouldn't have told her he didn't understand her toys.  A CHILD WITH AUTISM WOULD HAVE JUST SAT THERE. She also told me that she "could tell he felt bad that he didn't know how to play with her toys, and a child with autism wouldn't have worried about hurting her feelings."

What. The. F*CK??!!

At the time, I recall thinking, I'm pretty sure this lady is confusing an autistic child with a head of lettuce.

I was also told that even though he continues to mix up his pronouns, (he/she/you/me) at the age of NINE TEN, that wasn't unheard of.

He met 5 out of 6 of the criteria for autism, but the magic number is SIX. He needed to meet all 6 criteria to be formally diagnosed with autism. And that play therapist was the deciding factor in my son being diagnosed with autism, which most people have some understanding of, or being pegged as the weird kid who likes to line shit up, and who has a bunch of diagnoses that most people have never heard of. Hello? Hypotonia?

1. He plays with toys, alright. Just not in the way they were "meant" to be played with.

The Crayola Glow Dome he asked for last Christmas. Here's how your boring nerurotypical might play with it:
WOW!! This is  f*cking AWESOME!

The Crayola Glow Dome - Z style:
Wow. I am f*cking awesome.

2. Playing with plastic dinosaurs:

Playing with dinosaurs, Z style:
If you have a d sound, a d sound, a d sound, if you have a d sound come and line up..."

Playing with cars:
Vroom! Crash, screeech, BAM!!!

How Z plays with cars:
Mom? Why don't other kids know how to play with cars the RIGHT way?

And finally......