The Nefarious Social Worker

The girls have been in school for two weeks now and life has filled up with the uninteresting exhaustion of shopping and running to the doctor and cleaning the laundry and racing to soccer practice.  Everything is made more uninteresting by the long list of things to do and things to buy which carry over from our quick move here.  And everything is made more exhausting by the simplicity of our kitchen, so that we do not prepare homemade meals and we eat out more often than we would like.

Still, everyone is happy.  Dave is back at FSI and will begin learning Indonesian Bahasa on Monday.  He is becoming more interested in Indonesia and is looking forward to his studies.  I, on the other hand, have very little interest in Indonesia at this point.  I am content to focus on where we are right now, and to keep Jakarta as a pleasant place we will be moving to in a long time.

I conferenced with Sophia's teacher yesterday, who confirmed for me that Sophia is doing well and is in a good place.  She said that if someone were to walk into her classroom today, they would not be able to pick out the child who had just entered into the mix.  We are seeing good behavior at home from both her and her sister, and hearing good stories about great teachers and good friends at school.  Everyone seems happy.

Annika is still settling down, but seems calmer every day.  She follows her sisters' routine, which is comforting to her.  We have discovered a music class and a library storytime, so her life should become more preschooler-focused soon, too.

And just at this point, where everyone feels comfortable and the tension seems to have left the house, it is at this point that the nefarious school social worker calls.

She called both Dave and I yesterday morning, leaving a message with each of us.  When I returned her call, I learned that she is rarely in the office - and that she only left her office number.  She waited two weeks after the girls began school to call us, and it seems that it may be at least another week before she calls us back. 

In the message she said that wanted to talk about our childrens' status at the school.  She said that she is completing the paperwork for justifying their enrollment and does not feel that they qualify.

And with this, we enter the weekend.

I cried at the thought of pulling the girls out of school again, and then I sent her an email with our story and how I see the county and national statutes as applying to our family.  I am hoping that she simply did not have the whole story, and now will happily submit our paperwork.  Once I sent the email, I grabbed Annika and drove to the school to pick up her sisters.  As happens lately, Annika fell asleep in the car.  We are at that stage in her life where she doesn't nap, but she needs to .  So she naps on the way to school.  And when we got to school, she was still napping.  So I carried a sleeping little sweetheart out onto the playground, leaned against some plastic equipment, and shared the social worker story with my friends.

Without exception, everyone shared our righteous anger and had a plan of action.  It didn't relieve the tension headache that had settled above my left eye, but it did make me feel justified in my fight.  And then, Annika peed.  Asleep in my arms, she peed all over herself and me.  And really, I'd say I'm doing pretty well to have made it over 8 years into motherhood without being peed on in a public place.

And somehow it simultaneously raised the levity of the situation and also the business of the afternoon.  And until we made it home, it also raised the stinkiness of any room we entered.