This week was like a roller coaster that started off with the feeling that you are about to die as you plummet to the bottom but ended with happy anticipation of next week.
At the beginning of the week- actually just on Monday alone- I had to stop three fights. I now have small fingerprint bruises on my arm from that. On Friday, the child who caused said bruises noticed them. She asked me if my husband did it- to which I said no, you did actually. Of course, there was no remorse or "I'm sorry" from her instead she just said- Oh, because if he had I would have to kick his ass. I swear I live in a parallel universe where having a conscious is not allowed.
On Wednesday, my fellow teacher finally came back! Let us all cheer! I have someone to help me now and she doesn't leave me alone with a room full of violent teenagers. Let the world rejoice. On a not so great note I had to work very late that night because one of my kids had to be hospitalized for suicidal ideation. I had to go out to his house with the therapist and assess him- and then call 911 to get him transported.
While out there I realized that I miss that "intensity" feeling of having a crisis and being in a child's home. You never truly know what your kids go through at home when you only see them in day treatment. It opened my eyes that I really do like being in the home and I have developed a huge tolerance for being in the classically messy homes that social workers constantly have to enter.
After this day the week got better and better. I ran the best group I have so far on Friday. Shockingly, the group was making home made play dough- have I said that my kids are in high school? Even the boys who thought they were "too cool" at first ended up wanting to make some. I made them let me keep their play dough and this week I am going to make them build something that represents them- or something to that extent.
Again, it made me realize that I need to stop thinking of these kids as teenagers. They really are like little kids with hormones.