Just when I thought I was out...they pull me back in!

So the school year is winding down, and while I begin to dream of summer and field trips with the kids, spring also means preparing for the upcoming school year. Pre-registration begins for activities like soccer and dance, and organizing committees, who lose members as children age and prepare to move onto middle school and high school, begin to look for new blood to fill their ranks. This is where the title of today's post comes into play.* A little history first...

Seven years ago, I was a newly minted mother of two, when I enrolled #1 in mildly educational babysitting, also known widely as preschool. The school I chose was a "cooperative" school, which means, in order to keep costs down, each family has a job to keep the school running, such as buying the juice in bulk at BJ's, or taking the recycling to the center each month. I was put on the cleaning committee, and spend one night every few months wiping everything in the class room down with a bleach solution. My father in-law still tells the tale of his "co-op" experience, where he was assigned to clean out the rabbit cage, so not having to handle rodent shit, I got off easy.

Half-way through #1's school year, a sign went up advertising for new board members. I thought to myself, "I was a teacher. I'm home with the kids. Isn't this one of those things I saw myself doing?" So I called the current board president and asked which positions were open. After being reassured none were too much work, I selected Buildings and Grounds Manager which would consist of organizing the school cleanings I myself had been participating in, and buying new play equipment for the school. If there was a problem I would deal with it, but things usually ran pretty smoothly.

Fast forward three months, and I am on the playground dismantling a jungle gym by hand and tearing up the rubber mats in order for the play area to be repaved. A few months later, I am priming walls for the muralist to paint. Then the outdoor storage sheds collapsed and needed to be demolished and removed. What happened to the bleach spray and buying Big Wheels? I did enjoy being on the board though, which allowed me to see the inner workings of the school administration and to help make major budget and staff decisions. So as my term came to a close, I duped the next poor soul into thinking this position was a piece of cake and hot-footed it to Registration.

To make a long story short, seven years later, I am still on the board, having held a variety of positions and serving as president twice. I am now a "Trustee" which means I show up to meetings to give the board the benefit of my experience, and not much else. I have comfortably been put out to pasture, which is fine, since next year is Little Man's last at the school, and I can start planning how I will use that money for shoes. I began to think how nice it would be to no longer have meetings to attend at night and parents to cajole into fulfilling their contractual responsibilities to clean the school kitchenette once a month, or to pay their tuition on time. I was ready to be done.

And then the call came this September. Could I be class mom for #2 at the elementary school in New Town? I thought to myself, "I was a teacher. I'm home with the kids. Isn't this one of those things I saw myself doing? AND it's not a board position." So I said yes. And thus, the flood gates opened. I volunteered for pizza day, bagel day and began working in the school library. The class parent thing is pretty minimal, I get to go on field trips, like to a mine last week, and got to see where they actually filmed the mine scene from Zoolander, (sadly, none of the other parents got my, "It's the black lung, Pop!" reference), but I do attend board meetings where I sit in silent observation, happy to not be one of the ladies at the head table. Much like the U. S. prior to WWI, my philosophy in New Town has been one of isolationism, I'll interact, but only when necessary.

The things I had volunteered to do require only my presence and an occasional email about the teacher's Christmas gift. I'm tired of having to deal with difficult parents who think these schools are run by magical elves who raise money for the new sandbox and want all the snacks, other people go to BJ's to buy, to be free of high-fructose corn syrup, and who need to be forced to participate in a constructive way. I say constructive,since I have had plenty of experience with parents who want to plan and execute nothing, but bitch about what others do in their stead. So no organizational roles for me, thanks! I am purely a drone, a worker bee! Tell me where to deliver these pizzas and bagels and let me use that cool scanner at the checkout desk!

And then the call came last week. My name had been brought up to the school board's nominating committee, and would I be interested in being VP of Fundraising? They've see my hard work and think I'd be great for the job, and I have an education background. And I thought to myself, "Stop and think about it, dummy!"

I mentioned this phone call to H. He smirked and said, "Here we go again." He said all along, I have too big a mouth and am too bossy to simply sit back and be one of the nameless masses. Which is a valid point, loud and bossy are two of my greatest charms, but that also makes the whole isolationist thing tough. Half the reason I've been keeping my trap shut is I know there are plenty of people at the preschool who did not enjoy my leadership style, but knowing we were moving, I didn't have to care. Being in New Town for good makes me reticent to open my trap at meetings to say, " I think five people have already made that point. Are we ready to vote?" Despite my fear that New Townians would (inevitably) discover my brash ways and lack of tolerance for nonsense, I found myself being drawn to this job. I had to ask myself, why was I being pulled back in? Little Man is getting bigger and soon I will have more time to write or maybe go back to school or get a part-time job. Why would I want to add to my never-completed-but-ever-growing to-do list?

I have to be honest, part of it is pride. I like that a group of women I don't know very well thinks I would be a good leader. As I have stated, and restated, being a stay-at-home mother comes with no glory, no job review, no pay check, to give you the shot in the arm we all need once in a while to feel like we're doing a good job. Having an outlet where my work would be tangible and appreciated is tempting. A lot of moms were once high-achieving women in work and school, what's wrong with using our skills to help our kids?

There is also the "somebody has to do it" argument. The do-nothings I mentioned above aren't going to run the Fun Fair or organize the school auction, so why shouldn't I? Or H asks, "Why should you?", since he envisions himself hauling linens off a party rental truck, which is probably a pretty accurate prediction. While the job description is deceptively simple, peppered with plenty of assurances that I would have help, I know reality can differ greatly from what is promised. Even with the best of intentions, I can see myself hauling boxes at the book fair and having to call and yell at the bagel guy when our delivery is late.

The question I really am asking myself is, is this a distraction? Will being busy with this kind of stuff take up so much mental space I won't have time to worry about where I'm going with this writing? Am I subconsciously sabotaging myself? Is this what women do? Fill up their lives to the max while their children are young, then, when there are no more committees to head or fundraisers to run, we are left feeling useless? To be honest, I really don't think this is what I'm doing, but it's still a niggling thought int he back of my mind, that I will have to stay vigilant about what it is I want, while doing this work, so that I have already started down the path to my own future, when the last of my kids goes off to college.

So in the end, I'm going to do it. I was a teacher, I'm home with the kids and this is one of those things I saw myself doing, but also, I want my kids to see that, even if it's not in an office, there is work to be done. I will be in the school more, which is something, as a child, I craved from my mother so much. I hope the smiles on their faces mean my kids feel the same little jolt of excitement when they see me in the school halls, that I felt when my working mother could take off work and come in. I want them to know their school matters to me enough to add it to my to-do list. And I want them to see that, no matter how full, I will manage to keep myself, and my dreams for myself, on that list as well.

*Sofia Coppola makes me want to pluck my own eyes out.