Jesus, Mary and Joseph (sorry mom)!! I am so mad right now I could spit nails! I am having a full blown hissy fit and want to break something. Meanwhile Mr. Pants is decorating my living room with toilet paper and I don't even care. On Monday, the receptionist -> for the doctor -> who needs to talk to me -> before I can get the report -> about whether or not my kid has autism, called me. She asked me what times yesterday and today would work to receive a call from the doctor. I told her. She told me what times the doctor had booked up and to not expect a call but to remain ready all other times. Guess what? No call. Nope. Not even from the receptionist saying that something came up and they needed to call me another time this week. Nothing. So I just want to say out loud. F&%#!!! I carried my phone with me every single second for two days. Waiting. Does Dr. I'm Rude realize that carrying a cell phone with the ringer on into the bedroom to nurse your baby sleep is dangerous? Or has she considered just for one minute that maybe JUST maybe I have been patiently waiting (which I hate to do) and torn up inside wondering what the hell is wrong with my son? I mean, she has to understand that right? That every single day, I go back and forth a million effing times. He has it. He doesn't. He's acting bizzaro. He's perfectly normal. At the end of everyday I force myself to say out loud, "He is going to be ok" in the hopes that I will eventually convince myself enough to stop waivering. I do believe it. Usually. But I work very very hard to hold that line while the voices in my head try very very hard to muss it. And it doesn't help when you say you will call and you don't. Because if you had called, I could have told you that some things are getting really hard for us. That he is lining things up and grouping and spinning more. That is tantrums have become really difficult for me to physically handle. And I have no choice but to try or he hurts himself or his sister. I took his skull to the bridge of my nose yesterday and saw stars. My two year almost broke my nose. And it didn't phase him. Not one bit. I need to tell you this stuff Dr. I Won't Call You Back. Because the last MONTH since we saw you guys has been a rollercoaster. And I need to know what is typical and what is not. I need to talk to someone who knows what you know. I don't begrudge you your honeymoon or even the extended time it is taking to get me a report/the answers that were promised to me weeks ago. What I do wish though is that you would call me. Like you said you would.
As I crazily typed this, Mr. Pants came over to see what all the fuss was about and diffused me in about 15 seconds. So I turned my phone on and got a little bit of it. Thanks little dude. You read your mama like a book. Which, incidentally, is not a characteristic of autism. <- see what I did there?