Friday, April 3, 2009

Volunteer Work and Mommy Meltdown

I was a bad mother this morning. The kind of bad mother who yells and screams at her kids and makes them cry. The kind of bad mother who could put her kids into therapy for a very long time.
I blame myself for not being more organized. I blame my kids for having the same disease I have so my older son announced that he needed clothes for track two minutes before we left, then told a friend to pick him up so that the mom arrived in our doorway when we were in total disarray.
"I'm taking you! I told you I was taking you!" I screamed at him. "We're late!" 
Truly not my finest moment and one that I blame most of all on volunteer work. Today it was the Chinese feast in my older son's Social Studies class. Earlier this week, another mom had called me up and told me that my son's Social Studies teacher said I was really helpful and would help organize the darn thing.
So I spent the week sending out numerous emails to solicit drinks and oranges and get parents to work at this darn thing. Then I had to get there early and spend my morning there. My husband also joined the group this morning.
Now don't get me wrong. I'm a big believer in volunteer work. I love my kids' schools, love seeing the kids and meeting the teacher. In fact, studies show that kids do better when you're involved in their school. Blah, blah, blah.
But it drives me crazy when I have to do volunteer work on a day when I normally write, when I have papers to grade and a house that could use a backhoe to just come in and clear out the craap. Instead, I have to go and serve egg rolls to sixth graders and I get all anxious in the morning about this and all my other commitments (and the fact that I am a terrible, terrible housekeeper). 
Here I am 50 years old and I still haven't learned to say no. I should have said, "I am not helpful. I am too busy."  This is the hazards of working very part-time at this point. You feel you must say "yes" when really you want to say no.  But I can't even organize my own life, never mind the Chinese feast. Sigh. And I didn't even get an egg roll out of it.