This is my son. And I love him for exactly who he is.

Written by Michelle in Wisconsin

My oldest son said his first word at 5 months old. It was "bup" (up).

He took his first steps at 10 months old.

At 18 months old, he said "I'm frustrated" to me when I told him he couldn't play outside.

His favorite thing to do when he was 2 years old was to line up rocks, toy trains, or anything he could find, in a very straight row.  He could do that all day.

He taught himself to read just before he turned 3.

He could name every instrument in an orchestra at 3 by sight and sound.

At 3 and a half, he found the only unlocked door in his preschool, walked through it and proceeded to walk home, crossing a busy street in the process.  When his teacher found him 20 minutes later at a busy intersection and asked him where he was going, he replied, "I'm going home to see my Mom".

When he turned 4, he was diagnosed with Asperger's Syndrome while testing for entrance into a gifted school.  His refusal to write and angry outbursts prevented him from qualifying for admission, we were told. 

He was bullied in pre-K.

He was bullied in Kindergarten. 

He now homeschools, and loves it.  He is happy.  He flaps several times a day on his tip toes, and that makes me happy. 

He is now 9 years old.  And someday, he's going to change the world. 

"I'm austistic", he says proudly.  "My brain is unique and I can do things that other brains can't."

This is my son.  And I love him for exactly who he is.

This is autism.