For most of my life, I have tried to be a chameleon. If you were a Republican, I was in the Tea Party. If you liked country music, I was Carrie Underwood’s second cousin. I am not political, although I love political humor, and my play list is labeled with such gems as, “‘Bootie’ Music Explosion” and “Crunkalischious”. Living in Southern Suburbia, with a New England background swearing more than the ladies in the movie “The Fighter”, there is a fine line between being myself and causing people to exclaim”Oh Heavens, what did she just say, fetch me the vapors Scarlett.” Here are just a few reasons, why I probably should not run for any Southeastern School District PTO:
1) I cried laughing when the teacher/ DJ played Jimmy Buffet’s “Jamaica Mistakia,” at the 3rd grade Luau and “A++hole” & “s**tty” were not edited out. That was hours ago and I’m still laughing uncontrollably. No one else was amused. Actually, I don’t think they heard it which I find EVEN FUNNIER. I think I snorted.
2) I did not wear my flowing Luau attire, with my gold~lame~boot~thong (no, not that kind silly) sandals. I wore shorts that I do not remember being as short last year. Either my legs grew (at age 42??) Or my child bearing hips came in nine years too late. I wore ridiculously high wedges. My outfit was a cross between an Aeropostle sale and 2010 Express’s spring line.
3) My sun glasses are NOT cool. Maybe that’s because I have been banned from buying “designer” shades since I misplace, break or dive off boats with them on my head into giant lakes. That’s another blog. Needless to say, my dollar store shades make me look very non~PTO~ish and quite frankly, I don’t think they protect my eyes. I have a screaming headache either from them squeezing my head or them not even shielding the sun.
4) I asked if I could drink one of the bottled waters, under the snack tent, and I felt like I walked up holding Joe Biden’s hand at a Republican convention.
5) I do not say things like “Let’s all make sure we make good choices during musical chairs” , I am more along the lines of “For the love of all that is tranquil, please LISTEN TO THE WORDS THAT ARE COMING OUT OF MY MOUTH”.
6) I do not like bouncy houses. They freak me out, so if I were on the PTO, they would be banned. I would nominate the ban, second the nomination and ban bouncy houses. I would be known as the PTO Mom who ruined School Parties. I strongly dislike clowns as well….Who held hands with Joe Biden stealing bottled waters at the Republican Convention.
7) I just don’t think I have PTO hair. I can fix the front, but by the time I get to the back of my head, my arm is aching from trying to fix the same section so I relinquish the battle to a mop of glop. I’m always transfixed by how some of these PTO moms look like they had literally every. Piece. Ironed. Flat. OR expertly. Crafted. Into~a ~”messy”~ curl. You know the song “I woke up like this” by Beyonce. Yeah, I wrote that, but it has completely different context where I am concerned.
8) I kind of have a two hour window on when I feel like I’m going to pass out from exhaustion from being around so many children. I’ve tried. I substituted , I even did Vacation Bible School once (Gasp! I know right? I’m kinda shocked I didn’t spontaneously com-bust in the church recreational room either!!). I do not have the “You are not making good choices” vernacular. I most certainly did not make good choices as I child. I was kind of a rebel. A free spirit. I talked back and “sassed” and was probably on the “problem list.” Today at the pool I muttered a string of profanity while my kids had swimming lessons, with a very religious , gentle-souled teacher. I’m pretty sure I saw her throw water on me and pray.
9). I do have a bad case of “Resting Bleep Face. It’s not that I am angry all the time, my lips literally curve downwards and I have two ‘Victor Newman’ scorned wrinkles between my eyebrows, and kids generally do not respond well to my Victor Newman tyranny.
10). Right now, as I am writing this blog, my daughter whined “It’s already 11:02 mommy, the party is probably over, (it started at 11:00), because we are running late. I clenched my fists, squinted my Victor Newman eyes, and whined right back to her “pleaseeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee, oh puhleeze, let me jussssssssssst finish this… ” and my lips curved downward, even further to illustrate what I like to call “Active Bleep Face”.
If you know my blogs, you know I still have not received the manual from the hospital whence my children were born, because the only one I have stopped at three months. I have yet to hear back from my complaint at said hospitals.
I do know who and what I am. I over-try. I over-compensate. I actually sweat and my fit-bit explodes with “goals-met”, while I’m parenting. Sometimes it comes out side-ways and some Moms might find me , unsavory. My R.B.F, or A.B.F, is not haughty disdain for other moms or the PTO Mom, it’s knowing I can’t always protect my kids from the world and I do wear that on my sleeve, a lot.
No, I’m not PTO-Mom material, and I learned how to own “that” FROM my children. I watch them and soak up every single bit of their tenacity and confidence infused into the cells of their young people souls. I learned that trying to be something I am not, only brings confusion. I can only hope that one day, they are holding hands with Joe Biden’s kin, drinking unapproved water bottles, laughing at inappropriate jokes, and being unequivocally themselves. (I mean, it would be awesome, if it were at a Republican convention, but let us not get greedy…)
This blog is like the ridiculous sweater I bought at Anthropologie a few years ago. It was on sale and the sales lady told me "it looks awesome on you." It's the most bizarre sweater, and whether it looked good on me or not, is highly debatable. Like these blogs, I look at them at say "Yeesh, what was I thinking,," or laugh or bath in their cathartic qualities. The sweater stays for the same reasons.