Yesterday I raced home right after lunch to clean my house -- which consisted of tossing random objects into a paper grocery bag and stashing it in my magical "back room" -- the downstairs bedroom that is a repository for all things that cannot find a home anywhere else, and then, when the room gets full, my mom helps me clear it out by donating things or putting it away where it actually belongs. Then it fills back up again. And again.

But why did I go to this frantic effort? Well, yesterday was our Home Visit (no, not from DSS) but from Flipper's first grade teacher. This is our third time with a teacher visit, and by now, I have finally relaxed and not been so panicked that the teacher is casting a sharp eye on the dust in the corners, the dog hair on the couch, the ancient Barbie doll Flipper inherited from a friend. And so now, I am fine.

I fled as soon as the teacher arrived by taking the dogs for a walk, and let the teacher and Flipper play with (hopefully) all of her nice, eco-friendly, all-natural wooden toys, and NOT the hidden Barbie, but I am no longer as fearful that I won't measure up as the Perfect Mother.
Flipper, on the other hand, was THRILLED to have her teacher in her home, and I was reminded, as I so often am, how children perceive things that we think are tiresome or boring as magical and special. I can only remember how exciting I would have thought a teacher visit would have been, beyond thrilling, while my mother would have been indifferent, and my father would have rolled his eyes and hidden behind the paper.

But now it's over, and I can breathe easily again, hopeful that THIS IS THE LAST ONE after previous visits from her preschool teacher followed by her kindergarten teacher, and I can
rejoice in the knowledge that the Barbie stayed hidden, blessedly hidden.

Leigh appears Fridays on TriangleMom2Mom. Read more about Leigh on her blog Flipper and Me.