I want to make the right choice.

I am spent.

Tim and I have an appointment with a pediatric psychologist in 2 weeks to discuss Austin's behavior (and determine if he has A.D.D.) and whether or not he would benefit from taking medication. The questionnaires that I've filled out regarding all this seem to scream at me that he's a classic case for A.D.D. In all honesty, I've known for a few years in my heart that he's got it, but just haven't wanted to completely give in to it. [This whole topic of medicating for A.D.D. is such a hot one ... everyone has an opinion on it. We have generally not been interested in medicating him for this. We would rather try behavior modification strategies (that have mostly been working up until school started this year) ... but now we've reached a new point in all of this, so we're seriously re-thinking it all. It's a constant source of stress and doubt. We want to make the best decision for Austin ... I really don't want to mess this up.]

At this point, I'm quite tired.

I'm tired of blaming myself. I'm tired of feeling like I must not be doing enough as a parent to have avoided or fixed this. I'm exhausted from the constant work I do with him to redirect his behavior and guide him to making good choices--to no avail. I'm worn out from feeling like a failure. I'm tired of feeling embarrassed by his behavior when we're out somewhere. I'm tired of the dirty looks I get from other people ... like I'm a moron of a parent who does nothing to keep her child in line. I'm tired of seeing the sad look on my son's face when he talks about being frustrated in school because his teacher is always yelling at him ... and he doesn't know why or what he's done wrong most of the time. I'm tired of seeing other kids look at him like he's an idiot when he's running around, making squeaking sounds and invading their space during soccer practice--while he's entirely oblivious to that fact. I'm completely heartbroken when Austin cries because he doesn't have any friends--he used to, but they don't want to play with him anymore (because he does things that are annoying to the people around him). I'm so sad when I hear him plead with me to not have to go to school ... especially when I know that he loved school and his teacher last year.

I'm tired from all of this. I'm worn out. I'm exhausted. But more than any of that, I'm just sad. Sad that my son feels so isolated and alone. Sad that my little boy--who can be the sweetest and most dear little boy--has had his spirit crushed by his teacher this year, for behaviors that seem to be honestly out of his control. Sad that I can't fix this for him ... or seem to show him how to fix it himself.

So many of my days are a roller coaster of emotions. I'm frustrated with him, annoyed by his out-of-control behavior, challenged to stay patient and calm, angered by what seems to be his defiance of what I tell him to do. I'm also enamored by his loving heart, amazed at his creative thinking, intrigued by his view and perspectives on everyday events, amused by his sense of humor and laugh, touched by his sensitivity, thoughtfulness and caring nature, impressed by his intelligence. Some days--when things have been particularly difficult--after I've tucked him in, I feel absolutely guilty. Guilty for getting frustrated, annoyed, angry. Guilty for not being able to do more to help him. Guilty for not knowing what to do.

I hope I'll get some insight when we meet with this doctor ...