What will our future hold?

Tonight we have our appointment with the pediatric psychologist. I'm nervous and excited ... hopeful, but afraid to be. We've had some really great days with Aus lately. He's been listening to Tim and me and he's going out of his way to be kind and thoughtful (running up to Maya's room to get something for her, making sure the cats have plenty of water and food, choosing the small gardening gloves because Maya wanted the big ones ... this list could be longer and more significant, but this will do).

Five days of good behavior were about all Austin could muster, though, and some of his pent up behaviors had to be unleashed ...

Austin was not allowed to ride the bus yesterday, because on the way home Tuesday, he punched Maya--in the face (for not scooting over in the seat so he could sit there too .... his reason: it was his "favorite place to sit and she was not sharing"). This was not the first problem he's had on the bus--far from it. The bus driver has had to talk to him many times about being mean to Maya (he isn't mean to anyone else, just Maya), and this was the last straw. So, deservedly so, he had a one day suspension (honestly, I expected at least 3 days, but the bus driver didn't want to inconvenience me too much ... nice of her, but I told her not to worry about that, I'd just be sure to convey that inconvenience to Austin). He is grounded from all electronics (TV, computer, GameCube and his Leapster) for five days and is not allowed to sit in the same seat as Maya on the bus for the rest of the year--even if she's in his "favorite" seat.

After school Tuesday, while I was at a PTA meeting, the kids were with the Latchkey group. It was a gorgeous day, so they were all outside on the playground. After about 45 minutes, the Latchkey coordinator brought Austin to me, saying that he had to be removed from the group because he and two other boys were covering a first-grader in mulch. (This offense is less troublesome to me than him hitting or hurting someone ... but, I still had the pleasure of having someone point out that my son is causing problems.) I thought for sure I would have to leave the meeting early--figuring that Austin wouldn't be able to sit quietly until it was over. But, since the meeting was in the library, I was able to sit him over next to the books. He sat completely quiet--and still--for the rest of the meeting (another 45 minutes) reading. I couldn't believe it. My constantly moving, noisy boy (usually he's making sounds for the imaginative play he's got going on in his head--spaceships flying, cars zooming, things crashing, etc.) was absolutely quiet and engrossed in books. He often sits still and quiet for long periods of time--if he's in front of something electronic ... but not usually that long for reading.

Except for working on writing homework last night, Austin had a really good day yesterday. He cleaned his room--completely. (Usually when I tell him he needs to clean up his room, he spends about 5 minutes and comes back to tell me he's done ... and he's not. I have to go up and give him specific instructions, step by step, for finishing the job.) He spent about 20 minutes putting together the game Mouse Trap--following the directions and doing it all by himself. He was good during dinner (I know that it helped that we had a "picnic" in the family room--he didn't have to stay in his seat and had some freedom to move around) and got ready for bed with no problems at all.

These good days really help keep me sane ... they give me hope and reassure me that we will have bright spots. Hopefully they'll be more and more frequent after our appointment tonight.

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 ...