I'm fairly certain Karen is the only person who reads this, and I really don't think my stories translate well in writing (at least through impromptu blog-writing), but this is a good one.
I now work in special education, as a one-on-one para-educator for a seven year old girl with Autism. She's very involved: no speech, no responding, no anything really. She's darling and incredibly sweet, so I love her, but I am TIRED at the end of the day. As her one-on-one, I have to be with her at all times. All. Times.
Today we went swimming.
I'll start this story by explaining that the swimming instructor - we'll call him "Skinniest Man Alive" - is great with the kids, but somewhat of an interesting character. As I paraded into the swimming pool area in my neon green Speedo, holding the hand of a little girl in a swim diaper and a swimsuit that kept falling off (who cares, she's a little girl, and no kid in that pool knows nakedness is inappropriate), I glanced into the pool to see if Skinniest Man Alive (SMA) was ready for us to get in.
HE WAS IN A WETSUIT.
This is a special ed pool. It was probably 95 degrees in there. When I got in the water, I almost fell asleep. A wetsuit?? The kid must have absolutely no body fat. A wetsuit buttoned up to his neck. Are you kidding? I wanted to shed my suit as soon as I got in the water. It was like a sauna. PS - The wetsuit was TOO BIG for him, so it wasn't even tight. Just awkwardly bunchy.
So we swam for thirty minutes and my little darling managed to pull my top off (thank you), splash my mascara off into the water (as a little Downs girl screamed, "BUG IN THE WATER"), and swallow approximately five gallons of pool water. At least she was hydrated. It's a concern.
After changing out of my swimsuit in front of three children and two adults (nightmare), we went to join the rest of our class in PE. During the "brain dance," where the rest of the class attempts to cross the midline and stand on one foot and even normal first grade boys can't do that, LD and I (Little Darling, as I will henceforth refer to her as) sat on the floor and cuddled. It was a long day.
Flash forward to the end of PE when LD climbed off my lap and I realized I was soaking wet. Was her hair dripping onto my jeans? Did I forget to take her out of her swim diaper? The pool of water on the floor was at least a foot in diameter...what on earth? Smelled like water. Looked like water.
It was pee.
LD had peed all over herself. LD had peed all over me. Not one adult in that room was sympathetic. Giggles. Laughter. Pointing. I am seriously soaked and LD's skirt is soaked. Her defective Dora the Explorer diaper is disintegrating onto the floor. Her brown tights are dripping all over the floor and when I took her pink cowboy boots off a few minutes later, they were FILLED WITH PEE. And I've still got my fingers in the puddle going, "I think it's just water!"
Still, the best part of this story is that the swim instructor wore a WETSUIT in the pool.
