Today was my son E-Niner's second day of school. He had been removed from his former school, a therapeutic school, last year in June and it has taken us this long to find a placement for him.

(Long story including hospitalizations, adjusting meds, and testing. He has ADHD, SPD, anxiety, PDD-NOS, psychosis.)

Yesterday was great. Today was heartbreaking.

He woke up raging this morning after a fitful night's sleep. Around 10:30 last night, I took him into bed with me. This "bed" is an air mattress that I have set-up in the playroom so that we don't disturb my husband in the middle of the night.

After getting kicked and slapped around last night by the little boy who was sound asleep but somehow still very hyperactive, I decided to go back to my own bed. When E-Niner woke up this morning and I wasn't there, he had a conniption.

It continued the entire morning -- with a 20 minute break after I had given him a sedative -- until we got to school (which is 45 minutes away). So this was happening from the moment he woke up at 6:30AM until we arrived at school at 8:30AM. Two hours of screaming, kicking, throwing, biting, hitting. But like I said, at least there was a 20 minute reprieve in the car.

Once we got to school, I had to drop him off. Here I was giving my son to two people (his teacher and aid) who I have only met three times. I of course trusted them, but nevertheless broke down in tears once I drove away. When did my life come to this? When did it start to be okay to drop off my violent, aggressive son to almost strangers (granted, highly-qualified and trustworthy strangers)?

I knew he would be okay, but something about that very painful separation felt awful to me.

I stuck around the neighborhood, in case they wanted me to bring him home. About 10 minutes later, I got the call that once he walked into the classroom, everything was a-ok. He was settled and working on an activity.

Thank Goodness It's Friday!