Once again...

Another Louis meltdown yesterday.

He climbed up on a wooden railing around a porch which is only about six feet in the damn air. He RAN along it for about 15 feet while I watched. The railing was wet. Slippery. I was over there trying to be ready to catch him if he fell. 

I was mentally inventorying the first aid supplies in the suitcase we have with us everywhere we go, deciding which kid to hand the telephone to, which child to send into the building to get a teacher to come help me while I tried to keep the kid alive.
He did not fall.
Thank goodness.
Probably woulda killed me.
I'm sure he'd have been fine, if he landed on me he'd bounce and I'd squash.

So there was swearing. There was physical violence once, then twice.

I hurt my ankle trying to break up the fight. Well, actually I hurt it as I tried to get down a flight of stairs fast enough to keep Louis from really hurting another boy. Louis had him around the neck with one arm and was punching him in the kidneys with the other hand.

I stepped wrong on the 4th step down and it popped.
And now it hurts.

I'm pissed as hell on several levels.

I had to ignore the child(ren) who had been punched until I could get things under control.

I have been told to write incident reports for everything that happened.

Including my ankle, although *that* report is to be more generic, leaving out the names of children involved.

Of course the other two reports are full of names and times and words like fuck and bitch and fuck and fuck and fuck.

I'm weary.
I'm sad.
I feel defeated.
I wanted my program to be the right fit for Louis.

Yes, I know it's not my fault.

There is no reason that I should be able to handle a situation that even the trained professionals aren't able to handle on a consistent basis.