What kind of crazy person posts daily?

It isn't that I don't have anything much to write about. It's more that I have too much and can't focus and just... write.

Got a little sunburned on the part on the top of my head. I can't wear a hat, it gives me a headache. And considering that I already had a headache when I woke up at 5 on Wednesday morning to pee (dreamed there was a strange little man who took off the top of my skull and was scooping out little chunks of brain tissue and flinging them at the wall) it wasn't a great day for me. I took half a migraine pill, went back to sleep until 7:30 when I absolutely HAD to get up or be late for work, and found the headache still lingering. Showered, gobbled up three excedrin and by the time I got to work, I was doing... okay.

The day was made worse because I really fucked up at work.
I mean majorly.
Epic fail.
Considered that maybe I shouldn't be doing the job I do.

Felt bad all afternoon. Still feel bad as I write this.

We have a new little guy in summer program this week.
Jake.*
I met him for the first time on Tuesday, but since I worked the 7:30 to noon shift, and he didn't get there until nearly 10, I didn't learn anything about him except his name.

On Wednesday, we had water play time out in front of the school. There's a huge concrete sidewalk/entry area out there where the kids spread their towels. It's probably a good 30 to 40 feet from the building where I was sitting minding the drink cart to where Jake* had spread out his towel.

I looked up from helping Cassidy* with her drink in time to see him shaking the shit out of his beach towel... literally.

It was all flying up in Carter's* face. So I shouted at Jake, "JAKE!! Stop!!" I wasn't angry with Jake, but was far enough away that by the time I walked over there to stop the towel action, Carter's face would have been full of dirt.

I yelled because that was the quickest way to communicate.

He looked up at me, shocked. Face went white. He dropped his towel, covered up his face with both little hands, and ran for the building. Which was conveniently unlocked so kids could get in and out to use the restroom.

He disappeared inside. SLAM.

Great. So I hobbled to the door immediately, possibly about 10 seconds from the time he went in until the time I went in. And there was no Jake to be seen. Poof.

So procedure dictates we notify any other staff members on site of a missing child. I stuck my head out the door and let Brashley know I did not see him in the room.

She came in to find him because she's a lot faster than I am at running all over the school.
And.
Oh boy.
He's one of 'her' kids.

I went back outside to keep our numbers in ratio. We had 29 kids Wednesday afternoon, down from 34 earlier in the day.

We must have 2 staff for more than 15 kids and 3 staff for more than 30, up to 39.

We spent a lot of time outside finishing with water play.
When we went in, Jake was lying on a beanbag and Brashley filled me in.

He never left our room, by the way. Was just making himself small behind a cart and a beanbag chair. I admit I didn't search too hard, I was more concerned with making sure someone else knew he was gone so that we could keep a better eye out.

Anyway, a little late for me to learn a few important things about him.

I know a lot more about him now. Wish I'd known more before I yelled at him. The poor kid.

First of all, he was an abused little guy and is now living with his grandparents. He has many labels hanging around his neck. You know the kind I mean. Bunches of initials. ADD. ADHD. ODD. OCD.

Now I am not label oriented, but there are times when knowing which labels have been hung on a child help me interact with them in a manner appropriate to their specific care.

I didn't know Jake was wearing any labels. I wish I had.

The special education teacher he had this year was, from what I understand, abusive. She yelled at him. A lot. When he got scared and ran away from her, she threatened to call the police and have him arrested. Nice. Grandma spent a good deal of the year trying to have him removed from the crazy yelling bitch.

So when I yelled at him, he was scared. And went and hid.

He had a full meltdown while Brashley was inside with him. I don't know what all happened, she said he didn't melt down from me yelling but rather from feeling overwhelmed, and that I should, "Leave him alone, he's fine for now." and left for a few minutes to go get a dry pair of shoes. She lives close to the school, has foot problems and orthotic inserts and accidentally got her feet all wet.

Fine. Go.

As soon as she was out the door, I went and talked to Jake.

"Jake," I said. "I am sorry I shouted at you. I was not angry with you then, and I am not angry now. You were shaking your towel and dirt and little rocks and stuff were flying up in Carter's face, and that was the fastest way I could tell you to stop. I did not mean to hurt your feelings, and I will never shout at you again."

He looked closely at me for a few seconds, judging my sincerity.
Shrugged.

"Okay." he said.

Wandered off to play.

And I? I felt like shit.
I yelled at a sensitive little person and scared him.
Mrs. I'm-good-at-my-job-and-love-the-kids.
Scared a little boy.
A little person who had done nothing wrong.

I sat down with some other kids at the art table and watched them working on a chalk project. Scooted over when a child came and sat up against me. Looked down to see Jake. He didn't say anything. Didn't hug me or anything. Just... sat there.

I guess he found it easy to forgive me.
I am not finding it so easy to forgive myself.