Because I’m not a fan of crowds, last year I often found myself stressing out before PTO meetings even though my only obligation for those meetings was to walk into the school library, find an empty seat, sit down in that seat, and then find my way out to the car when the meeting was over. I believe I attended a total of three meetings last year, which is admittedly fairly horrible, but it was three meetings more than I had attended in any of the previous years.
I’m now the treasurer of our school’s PTO. This means I will be attending ALL of the meetings, probably saying actual words during those meetings, doing things with money and bank accounts and budgets, and smiling a lot. I just need to constantly remind myself that sending a loved one off to WAR is terrifying. PTO is not terrifying. It’s not terrifying. Not terrifying. Terrifying.
Last night I attended my first event of the fiscal year. (Look at me talking in fiscals. I feel smarter already, Olivia Newton-John!) I saw a few things that broke my heart and a few things that found me fighting the urge to roll my eyes into the back of my head. At the end of the night, I returned home, counted some money, and entered a bunch of numbers into the system. No need for Xanax. All is well.
This evening (in about an hour, actually), we’ll be returning to school to meet the teachers. I’m terribly happy with the teachers the girls will have this year. My only complaint (and it’s a tiny one) is that one of the girls will be in a classroom with someone that I was hoping would NOT be in her classroom. BUT, I’m trying my hardest to turn my attitude around and even bring God into it along with words like Forgiveness and Peace and Love. (Wurocher once said, “If a child acts like a hateful animal, treat her as one. Feed her ground corn and chicken by-product and make her pee outside. Just kidding.”)
We’ll see what happens. In the meantime, if you have a Dairy Queen in your area, get over there and buy a Nutter Butter Blizzard. Tell them I sent you. (Don’t really tell them that I sent you. They don’t know me. (Unless you’re going to the Dairy Queen by my house. They know me. Oh, yes they do.))