I was having a shit morning.
It was Monday. My husband left for university at 6am in the pouring rain because he was taking an important exam. My daughter spilled her cereal all over her new dress. My son had the world’s worst case of chicken pox and I was due to participate in an important Skype meeting.
That’s when the doorbell rang.
It was a social worker. She was there to check on our “living conditions” and the “wellbeing of the children”. It was a routine visit. I just wish the stupid tart would have warned me!
My hair was a mess, I was wearing a formal shirt and red lipstick (getting ready for my Skype call) with my husband’s pj pants stained with baby food (because that’s all I could find when the damn doorbell rang).
My house looked like something out of a horror movie. I reckon the “living conditions” scored very low. My kids were both crying, one because she felt embarrassed about her wet clothes and the other because he was itchy and hungry. I reckon the “wellbeing of the kids” did not score very highly either.
Talk about first impressions huh?
The woman spoke to me in Dutch. I did not understand. My daughter laughed loud! She said “Mamaaaa, your boobie is open”. It was true! My breast-feeding son had been having his drink and in my rush, I completely forgot to put the boob away again.
The visit ended quickly. She jumped on her bicycle and left. I never heard from her (or the department of social services) again. Thank God.
BUT, I spent the rest of the day in turmoil.
What did she think of me? Did I look like a bad mother? Would she cause trouble? Did the children seem okay? Did she think I was crazy? Did she rate my boobs? Would she call the cops? BlahBlahBlahBlah!
Stupid woman on a bloody Monday morning!!
After a few hours of that head storm, I thought to myself “Damn this! Enough! Grab a hold of yourself. Youuuuuu cannot control what’s done. It’s done!”
And just like that, I channelled my inner Iyanla and focussed on what I COULD control.
I cleared my diary, took the spotty baby and the sweet girl out for a picnic. Ahhhh! Peace at last.
As we sat down, my daughter said “Mama! Mama! There’s your friend”.
Yes, you guessed it! Miss-Stuff-Up-Other-People’s-Mondays herself.
That’s when I had my first stroke of genius for the entireeee day. I said “Let’s play tent-tent Everybody hide!”
And we did.
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