Mixed Signals

So this weekend, I am working another respite weekend. I really enjoy working respites because it's a chance to work with kids, which is something I have missed during the fall season where we work primarily with adults. This morning, looking around at all of these sweet faces of kids with special needs, I had this moment where I thought, "I would love to teach special education and get to work with kids like this every day." Then throughout the course of the afternoon, when a six year old had such a series of temper tantrums that he smashed his skull into my collar bone, hip bone, and my chin multiple times one time so hard I saw stars, I thought, "There is no way I'm doing this. Ever." That doesn't even include the battle scars his primary counselor has to show for the weekend. Then my thought turned to the parents of this particular kid. He and his nine year old brother both have behavior disorders. I don't know that much about them, but I'm pretty sure they are not my forte when it comes to working with people with special needs. Personally, I prefer folks with disabilities that don't involve me getting hit in the face. I started to picture what it would be like to have a classroom full of kids like this every day and then felt relieved that I didn't impulsively reroute my life based on my blissful feelings this morning. I started to think how sometimes how these disabilities manifest, either positive or negative, can depend largely on their parents. And how I don't want to inherit someone else's poor parenting for 9 hours a day times 20 kids. I am not a parent and I can't imagine the challenges of having a child with special needs, but at this point in the day and in life, I don't think behavior disorders are my thing. I know people that are incredibly passionate about it and I am incredibly thank for each and every one of those people and for the countless others that dedicate their lives to these kids. As for the six year old who beat the crap out of me today, no less than 15 minutes after he cleaned my clock (when this occurred  I was simply trying to hug him and hold him until his counselor came back so they could go swimming), he came up to me in the pool, held my hand, and climbed up on my lap. Go figure. How about that for mixed signals?