what makes me a PTA reject

Yes, I am that mom. I am a PTA reject.

Why are you even remotely surprised?

Now it’s not that I didn’t try. Back when Hollie was a bright-eyed little kindergartener, I did sign on to join and I enthusiastically planned to attend all the meetings and take on all the projects. Then I attended my first meeting…

Oh you work?

I’m not sure why this seemed to be such a bad thing but it was. Still I pressed on determined to support my daughter by supporting her school. They needed me, no matter what anyone who regards moms who work outside the home as bad people might think. But attending meetings and participating seemed like, well, it seemed like junior high where ugly, awkward, pimply-faced me just wanted to be friends and fit in with the graceful, pretty, clear-skinned popular girls.

It seemed that this is where the pretty, clear-skinned popular girls landed…in the PTA.

UGH! This feels a lot like Moms’ Bible Study!

Whatever!

I stopped attending the meetings. I definitely did not sign on to any committees or special projects…except for that one year I was on the school yearbook committee because Yearbook Mom told me the year before that there was no way that Zoë’s name could appear in the yearbook with the umlaut above the “e”. Well, it did when she was in second grade because her mommy participated in the yearbook committee and with a Sharpie pen put two dots above the “e”. Yearbook Mom at first was not amused, but every year after there were two dots above the ‘e’ because I showed her how it could be done. But other than that I was pretty comfortable with paying the annual PTA dues and buying the crappy wrapping paper, the stinky candles, the chocolate candies and all the walkathons because it was for my kids’ school. The school got the money, my kids got the class credit and ice cream party for kids whose parents were members, the PTA moms didn’t have to deal with the awkward of me wanting to fit in and for them to tell me that I couldn’t…and they could get back to their whispering about the moms who worked outside the home…especially the one who looked like she just rolled out of bed in rumpled scrubs at the afternoon pickup…yes, me. It was good for us all.

Added bonus is the free ice cream for me!

Frankly, I find myself wondering why we can’t just adopt this approach to school support and fundraising?

Sign.

Me.

Up.

All kidding and snarkiness aside, I still support my kids’ schools….Dolphins and Timberwolves and now Sun Devils all the way!!! Just let me write you a check and you all who eat, sleep and breathe PTA while hovering closely over our kids’ schools can continue to do the awesome that you do. Smile and thank me…then get back to the whispering about my just rolled out of bed look…or the other moms who just don’t seem to fit in.

Like my daughter.

We’re totally okay with that.

And then when I’m feeling oh so smug as I write this the phone rings…

Mom…

What’s up Daniel?

Today was a minimum day. Are you going to come get me?

Yes. I did that.

dreaming dreams

I dream a dream

I dream a dream where my desk will forever always be as uncluttered as I wish my mind would be.

Because this literally took me all day to do. Of course given the fact that my mind is such a cluttered mess, it is likely that it took all day to clean and organize this entire workspace because my mind is such a distracted cluttered mess.

Ugh!

I dream a dream where I would not find myself so excited over my latest purchase.

Best $4 I have ever spent ever because menopause is stupid and the fact that hot flashes can literally go on and on for years…YEARS post menopause is just stupid and dumb and quite possibly causes me to question my belief that it is great to be a girl.

I dream a dream where one can sit in a waiting room, a coffee shop, at a bus stop, in an airport, in a restaurant and not be forced to enjoy the music, video, game, podcast, whatever loud noises coming from an individual’s smart phone, tablet or laptop because, believe it or not, we really aren’t as into that new music video on YouTube or movie or book on tape game or whatever else you or your precious snowflake might be enjoying while sitting next to us in a waiting room, coffee shop, bus stop, airport, restaurant or any public place where we are sharing the same oxygen.

Really.

Truly.

I dream a dream where ear buds and headphones are available for all god’s children…especially you and your precious snowflake.

And then I dream some more…

be warned

When you are out and about anywhere in the Central Valley and you happen to see this beautiful child,

DON’T...I repeat, DO NOT call her a boy. She is going to throw some serious shade your way and will call you out.

But I’m a girl, Mom!, she loudly proclaims as you pass by.

BURN!

Seriously people! A ruffled blouse, jeggings, pink loafers with glitter?!

Oh well! Random strangers can say the stupidest things, I guess.

I’m sorry, Fallon. For what it’s worth, your mommy and aunties often were mistaken for adorable boys too…even when they were three years old and sometimes wearing the most feminine of dresses.. Except for Abby. For some reason, your Auntie Abby was rarely mistaken as a little boy. Abby had curly eyelashes and everyone knows little girls have curly eyelashes. Then again, Daniel has curly eyelashes too…and people often commented that he was a beautiful baby girl. Yeah, random strangers make stupid observations sometimes.

You keep giving them the side eye, fancy girl.

 

 

videotaping and photography is strictly prohibited

At most dance competitions this is the norm and, unlike SOME parents, I respect the rule. It really is for the privacy and protection of our children. Thankfully professional videos and photographs are available at the venues for us to purchase. Sometimes they are even kind of affordable like at this weekend’s competition.

Um…

Yeah, I paid for this picture.

How could I not?

JoAnn summed it up perfectly saying you can tell that all her hard work has paid off with this picture right here. Thankfully, that shot (and the fact that I paid for it) was the only fail of the weekend.

There was nothing but platinums at the end of this Rainbow Dance Competition for my favorite Dance Star.

 

the inconvenience of awesome

Aw, growth spurts! So much fun…said no parent who JUST bought their kid those out-grown athletic shoes or three pairs of must-have skinny jeans ever.

When I was a girl I discovered just how awful growth spurts could be as in Mommy-Dearest just bought me those shoes or those pants or just let out the hem of those dresses and pantsuits (we wore pantsuits back in the day, don’t judge) with no more material left to hem. She’d be frustrated and angry that I was growing like a weed and I would feel bad because I clearly should have better control of this growing thing…at least that was my perspective as a 12 year old kid not understanding the inconvenience of your kid growing like a weed when there are bills to pay and groceries to buy to feed your ravenous, growing weed.

Then I became a mother; a mother of kids that grew and grew like weeds. Often growing like crazy at the most inconvenient of times like when I had bills to pay or groceries to buy to feed those ravenous little weeds of mine.

I could not seem to keep Zoë in jeans that were soon too small or impossibly too short literally a month after I bought them. And replacing Jodie’s split sole, black tap shoes that were scarcely worn for only two dance competitions really sucked sometimes as did emergency alterations of custom made costumes that were custom made to allow for grow room.  I mean…how rude…how inconvenient…these kids are growing much too fast!

And then I understood.

Oh.

So now that Spring has really sprung, Daniel is ready to break out the shorts. But the shorts are much, much too small. Two sizes too small. Shorts he has worn for the last two years of Spring and Summer…perhaps more. Shorts that are clearly much, much too small.

Oh happy day!!!

Human growth hormones, I love you so much…except for the fact that this is a helluva time for the kid to have outgrown his clothes because there are bills to pay…too many bills…and these kids seem to be hungry all the time…especially that kid who is finally GROWING!!!

So inconvenient but so freaking awesome!!!

Don’t worry, the mom of the 8 year old who apparently is wearing shorts two sizes bigger than Daniel’s new shorts tempered my excitement and frustration by pointing out the fact that her 8 year old is two sizes bigger than my 12 year old….as moms of kids who are not growth hormone deficient do.

Thanks!

Us moms of kids well below the growth curve their entire life, with non-functioning pituitary glands, love to hear about the burden of your overgrown child. It’s so…encouraging. Thanks.

Still, it is pretty damn awesome to pack away forever the shorts your son has worn every Spring, Summer and Fall season since second grade as his fifth grade year is winding down because this is normal. This is what “normal” parents do with their kids as they grow. This is just more “normal” for us to celebrate as parents of this mighty, former micro-preemie of ours, as parents of micro-preemies do…celebrating the normal.

So damn awesome!

Now to figure out what Peter to rob to pay Paul for the new shorts, the shorts that fit. Hey, at least they were on sale!