Friday Playdate » Blog Archive » Henry is now referring to me as "the evil genius"

I spent today recovering from ~~my vacation~~ yesterday’s car trip home. We made it from Albuquerque to Oklahoma City in eight hours and seven minutes, which is AMAZING, particularly since it SEEMED like we were in the car for about three days. I’m exhausted (when exactly will I go on a vacation and NOT come home totally wiped out?) but it felt good to sleep in my own bed and even better to see Wade pulling out of the garage with the kids after lunch while I stayed home ALONE. Ahhhh . . .

Of course, I spent my alone time ironing. Isn’t that what you do?

I have three School-Related Functions this week, all at Charlie’s school. All three, I am convinced, are designed SOLELY to target which new parents are the biggest volunteer suckers. And no way no how am I volunteering for ANYTHING this year. Nope. Not a thing.

Seriously.

Two years ago, at Henry’s first preschool, I wound up chairing the auction project for his class. We made a quilt. I don’t know the first thing about making quilts, but the auction chair swore up and down that all we needed to do was ORGANIZE! Not sew! Really! And people would be DYING to help! And it would be FUN!

She lied.

It was a horrible experience, involving a time commitment equal to a full-time JOB for god’s sake, and I have sworn a solemn oath NEVER to do ANYTHING like that EVER AGAIN. EVER. My friend Caroline is the kindergarten Class Parent for Henry’s class, and I’ve already warned her that this year I am doing the BARE MINIMUM for each child’s school.

“I know, I know!” she said, “You have auction issues.” Damn right.

Anyway, I have to go to THREE things at Charlie’s school this week, and so today I ironed because I don’t want to show up in my usual park-ready attire, looking like I have loads of free time (a sure sign that the PTO can call you for ANYTHING) but I also don’t want to delude anyone into thinking that I actually WORK for a living (since, you know, I don’t and all). So I needed three outfits that said Responsible Parent with SOME Free Time But Not A LOT of Free Time, and Certainly Not Enough to Be In Charge of Anything.

I pretty much just ironed everything. If you have any specific wardrobing suggestions, please feel free to pass them on.

My real plan this year is to do my minimum commitment at both boys’ schools (although really, if I could get out of playground duty, that would be REALLY terrific, thanks) and just wait to see how thing go. I’m also planning to blame the OTHER child’s school for my lack of time, because there should be some sort of pay-off for sending the boys to two different schools. I suspect that will only work for one year, but it will buy me some time.

I think this proves that I really AM an evil genius (much more so than my suggestions about how the boys might manage to eat their pasta at dinner without dropping most of it on the floor, which was what got the whole Mommy-is-an-evil-genius thing started).

16 Comments so far

Let me know how that outfit hunt goes. I spent a lot of time looking for outfits that said “poor but respectable” in my quest for financial aid. My husband thinks I’m evil but not so much a genius…more like a lunatic.

Meh.

(PS: I am taking notes on your What To Volunteer For: NOTHING lecture series. Check.)

Iron? What’s an iron?

I’m intrigued, parents do playground duty? I use to teach, and teachers at my school usually did two duties of some sort each week. I usually ended up with playground duty.

Um, hello? How is the blog not a full-time job?

Practice saying things like, “I’m a writer, and my schedule is unpredictable. I really can’t commit to that.” Start now. You’ll sound convincing by the time the first function rolls around.

Wrap yourself in caution tape. You don’t have a problem with them thinking you’re MAD, do you?

I would never call the caution tape parent.

Iron?

I think I have one around here somewhere.

I have perfect outfit (this is tried and true): a knit top, like a polo but maybe sleeveless, and khakis or a khaki skort or something - BUT - put a little smudge of jam somewhere on the skirt. It says: you had enough time to iron the bottoms but not the top, you want to look nice but you missed a spot and you just aren’t detail oriented enough to volunteer (the smudge). Add a pearl necklace too so you look a little shabby country club.

Ironing?

Nope. Too dangerous. I might burn myself. Or the house down.

Avoid sensible shoes at all costs. Nothing says, “I’m off limits” like a spikey heel.

I would wear something white, preferrably white pants. Extra bonus points for white linen. Something that says “I delegate well, but I’m unfamiliar with “hands-on” type of work.”

I’m saying white button down blouse (but nothing overly frilly or dressy) and khakis. It’s ambiguous, no one can make any assumptions one way or another, and THAT is what you want.

We’ve got the double school thing going too, and it really does cut into your schedule, so you’re not exactly being deceptive.

Plus, you’ve got the auction issues, which by the way, have just convinced me not to volunteer to help with ours this year. I was waffling, but now I’m sure.

I like Melissa’s idea. Writers are not dependable people. =P

Go naked. No one will ask you to do ANYTHING. Well, anything but leave. It’ll be the shortest, least boring meeting you’ll ever attend. And probably the last, since you’ll never be asked to do anything, ever again. Sound like a plan?

Genius, yes? Evil, I’m not convinced. I really hope you stick to your guns with the school stuff. I also think ironing should be banned.

I am SO with you. I didn’t volunteer last school year and it was the best thing for everyone involved. I didn’t disappoint (is that spelled correctly?) all the other mothers/fathers and I didn’t feel, daily, that there was *something* I was forgetting.

I say wear something with nice shoes. Wearing nice shoes means you have NO extra time. Because, you know, you’re so busy shoe shopping.

Khaki pants. Have ink smeared across a knuckle on your hand.

Very important: Turn down the first two things you’re asked to help with. Be gracious, be lovely, but be busy….

After that, you are branded pressed for time and they won’t bother you again.

It is so much better to limit your availability than to be forever stressed and letting people down when you can’t follow through on your good intentions.

I agree with the intimidating shoes suggestion. If you are wearing kick-ass shoes and use Melissa’s “I’m a writer…” phrase, no one will ever question why you can’t interrupt your glamorous and mentally stimulating writerly life for playground duty.

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