My Children Didn’t Know I’m a Boss!

Back in 2015-2017, we had a lovely lady become our helper. First help I ever had. She was lovely and no other could compare to her after we left the area except for Violet trailing here behind our girl at 23 Jump Street.

I’m trying to understand why it’s so emotional saying goodbye to Violet yet I felt nothing with Veronica. The best I can come up with is that Veronica never heard my problems and never showed any affection for the children and babies. We spoke about her problems. I was her encourager, I wished the best for her daughter. I drove down to her neighbourhood to give her daughter a gift for being the first in their family to finish high school. She told me about how the other Coloured people in the neighbourhood laughed at her for working for Black people.

I never told her my husband was being unfaithful. It was during the days when I lamented online, the fact that everyone treated me like an unpaid counselor and psychologist. Besides my social media sisters, every ‘friend’ who had my telephone number came to me for counseling, therapy, advice. A friend acknowledged it once. She said she’s a terrible friend because she never ASKS yet I always do. She was one of them and I only realised today. No wonder I didn’t feel sad. It was superficial. Boss and employee.

But Violet, the first time she came to our home, very first time, she spoke about me. She told me I was very different to other Black bosses. She saw me and said lovely things about me. She shared her heartaches about her children, but also loved mine as if they own her heart. She shared photos of them on her status always. They were (are) her children and she is-in their little autistic PDA world-their friend.

I will acknowledge this. I am a good woman. I always mention my youngest brother in law hating that my blogs were always titled “Imperfect Mom.” He said I was the closest thing to Christian he’s ever met. That I was doing everything I claimed to believe in and had a good heart too. I always took it as a comparison to their family. But maybe I am just good in general.

I know one thing. I was raised and then gaslit into always giving. We had Veronica but I’d iron on her off days so that she doesn’t think I kept the ironing for her. To prove that I don’t feel like she’s a slave. But in Veronica’s eyes, who knew she’d left ironing, it meant I didn’t like the way she ironed and she told me to correct her! Stop being nice!😂😅So I told her why I did it. I don’t think many bosses hear that.

Also, my children. I think of my best friend and the children where she worked. They knew she was “the help” and even rudely told her it’s her job to do a, b and c. Meanwhile, my children told me it’s amazing that Aunty Vi and Uncle Tashreeq just randomly came off the street to play with them and help me. This is this year! All this time, it never dawned on them that they were paid staff who were being told what to do by a boss. To them, we were all equal. They thought Aunty Violet LOVES to clean and that’s why she was doing it.

It came to a point where if I managed to get them to tidy up, they’d tell me Aunty Violet would be impressed! If they saw me using a broom, they forgot all the years of seeing me sweeping and told me not to touch Aunty Violet’s possessions!😅And if they couldn’t bring themselves to tidy up -it’s truly difficult for adults ADHDers too-they’d tell me not to worry, Aunty Violet will be very happy to do it and if they did it, then she’d be bored and sad because she likes cleaning and she would have nothing to do.

I am proud of myself! I never allowed them to disrespect anyone like my friend’s bosses children did. But, they do have PDA. So they scream if they think she’s about to get rid of something they believe is a treasure -usually tiny scraps of paper! They blame her for their things going missing because she was in their bedrooms. 🤦🏾‍♀️

Where will we find another soul who will work well and also love my children well? The very first candidate stole money I gave for transport and they’ve all been so dire that I only have called one for an interview and before she even left, the children were telling me not to hire her. The one big reason? Discombobulation. My son spoke to me so shocked, asking if it’s ok for women to have a moustache. It really bothered him.

My first reason was that she mentioned how she told her daughter she’d better help her lift a bed to look under it. You kinda have to be moving beds and all while cleaning. Everyone else after that has been bossy even before they come, have said they have autistic family members, but then don’t pitch, or tell me they are far away with their boss and the autistic child (It’s school holidays for the general public), but can leave them and come take the job! I asked what would happen if the interview showed problems and I didn’t hire her? She’d have used money to come back early.

But most importantly, most are currently employed but show no compunction in just leaving their current boss in the lurch. They have children they are caring for but just want to depart. Without warning. That is a big red flag. I don’t like someone who has no concern for others. And they leave because they want more money. There will always be someone offering more. I am not rich. I’m not the white folk who pay a salary, pay extra for transport and also pay the domestic worker’s school fees. I’m a mother who is about to have less money.

Violet came and stayed just as I had asked. My inattentive husband paid her R500 more than he should have for some months, because he’d forgotten her salary. She earned every bit of it anyway!

It’s been emotional and terrible. I have never wept in front of my children. But these ones never give me space to be alone, so one came and found me while I wept. Violet was not only the help I needed and the hands I could not be, she bore a lot when our girl was in her “attack people” phase. She went to change her diaper where she was, she picked her up when she refused to be changed but was soaking wet.

The stereotype of a hard worker. She and my best friend share those qualities. They give extra to their work. There are South Africans who work hard. But they’re a very small group. They have been a blessing. I hired because I need the help. And Veronica and Vi never took a single day off. That was a huge blessing to me. I need the help. (Yes, obviously Sabbaths they didn’t work. And public holidays were always off.) I hope and pray I find someone like that. My body is broken. And I am tired.

I don’t even have space to cry without a child interrupting me and then me making them cry.

With a good worker who enjoys their job and is committed to it and our family, a part of the burden reduces. And I need that small bit of reduction.

Thankful I got it from Vi who even hated taking December non public holidays off and forced her way in on the days I allowed her. A breath of fresh air and these lungs are in need of the oxygen.

God bless and travel with her and her sister. She has built a legacy for her children. I pray they appreciate the sacrifice it took to buy a farm and hire workers. She will rather labours of her hands with her daughters. I hope after all these years gone, the adjustment to her being the real mother goes smoothly. We both foresee a bumpy road and it scares her. It’s not an easy goodbye even for her. She already she’s tears in Friday.

Today is her last (half) day. Every second Sunday came half the day. It was to babysit while I went to the store with my husband. When the last bit of love died, I stopped going to the store and she came to clean and hang washing.

She will not spend all of this shift cleaning. My girl will be limping along with them using my walking frame as they go somewhere different one last time.💔

Can’t bear to checking and editing. My heart is broken.