Yes, I am that scary manic volunteering PTA mom you try and avoid. In fact, many parents took one look at us and immediately did a pivot in their efforts not be accosted by the wild-eyed mommies in evening wear. I don't get those parents. How else are they going to find their self-worth if they don't volunteer crazy hours and martyr themselves over the fact that they are the only class parent who remembered to bring in muffins on testing day? And don't give me that whole "inner value" and "self-esteem" hooey. It's all about the hours you log, baby.
Our plan worked, and we managed to pull in an extra $600 in sales that morning. Even better? My daughters melted into the floorboards of the car as I pulled up to the school looking like a drag queen who hadn't had her coffee yet. In order to get everyone out the door and ready that morning and to the school extra early, I had to forego the morning shower. Which is always a nice touch when donning a bright red ballgown.
Their humiliation, shame, and personal agony was delightfully apparent as I sashayed around the school grounds in my slightly rumpled finery. I watched as my seventh grader slinked across campus, pretending to be oblivious to my calls of Have a maaaahvelous day, dahling!
My fifth grader refused to kiss me goodbye so I made sure to blow her plenty of air kisses as she practically slithered on the ground to her classroom.
My kindergartener, a total sexist by nature, gave me a big kiss and a hug and told me, "I like it best when you dress this way, Mama." Yeah, total chauvenist pig in the making. He also likes my hair down, not up, and if I cook his mac and cheese in heels? He asks for seconds.
My toddler was rather non-plussed, save for the fact that my low-cut dress did remind him of his nursing days. Given the amount of teeth in the kid's mouth I wisely kept my distance and stuck him in the car with a movie while I made my rounds. Mother of the Year award here I come!
Ahh, motherhood. Who said there weren't benefits?