Crunch Time

It's crunch time here in the land of pee-soaked sheets, peanut butter sandwiches, and pint-size violinists. And I'm not just talking about my abs.

There is about a month-long period of time from mid-March to mid-April when sports seasons overlap, school testing and evaluations are a prime focus, and this mild-mannered mom barely keeps up.

It's like every brain cell I have is sucked up in motherhood and wifely duties and everything else takes a back seat.

It's also the time of year when the next year's parents' board positions and responsibilities are meted out.

It's been stressful for me because at every turn, people are trying to flatter me into doing the most difficult jobs. I'm not good at saying no. And I really suck at saying no when people are complimenting me. Word must be out because, damn, the flattery is flying.

I do want to help somewhere. And I'm happiest when I'm in charge. But I don't want to spend another two years sucked into the hardest volunteer job at the school.

So I decided that if I'm so great, I should be able to pick my own position. And I did. I chose a job organizing a one-day event with only a one year commitment. And it just so happens my four best friends are the four former chairs of this event. It's going to be a piece of cake. Especially compared to the craptastic fundraising job I had these last two years.

But, well, damn it. They got me. Somehow I'm also going to be the chair of another committee that is so top secret, I don't even know the name of it. Apparently, they don't let anyone know about this committee because they pick and choose who they want on it. And they want me.

They want me to throw three social events for former trustees and big-time donors.

Can you even picture me doing that?

How the hell did I get here, to this place of throwing luncheons, and teaching kids to play softball, and handing out discipline like know what the hell I'm doing?

I have no idea.

It feels like it was only yesterday I was learning to play softball myself.

But I'm here. And I'm me. The same overachiever I've always been. The overachiever who needs a damned break.

I'm counting the days until May 18.