By Melissa Mc
I’ve been in and out of MMW over the past few months — primarily because my PTA responsibilities have superseded EVERYTHING in my life (and when I have been back, I’ve just made everyone mad, so I had to hide out anyway!).
Well, I’m glad to report that my fundraiser is OVER. Did you hear that? OVER! Part of me feels like Rocky on the stairs of the Philadelphia court house – another part of me feels like road kill left to rot on a hot Arkansas day. For some of you, I’m sure planning a major fundraiser is as easy as fixing a batch of funeral potatoes for a church pot luck – but for me, it was like learning nuclear science (is there such thing?). I hated every minute of it and was ready to quit at least a dozen times. But with the help of a superb committee and my beloved husband, I did it! My one and only fundraiser was a HUGE success!! Did I say HUGE? I mean COLOSSAL! I’ve had so many people come up to me and say stuff like, “Wow! Melissa you rocked in so many ways!” I promise, people don’t say things like that about me. So, it is with, gratitude, humility and an enormous sigh of relief that this experience in my life is done. I still have one more year as PTA president, but surely I can manage.
But the question is: What do I do now?
I’m not even sure what to write about anymore?
Do I write about how I ate my way through the last few months? That my panic attacks about the viability of said fundraiser were made infinitely better by consuming boxes of Girl Scout cookies?
Or how crazy it makes me when I read newspaper articles that refer to Marie Osmond’s son as her “adopted son.” As an adoptee – I don’t think of my parents as my “adoptive parents” – they are my PARENTS! And they don’t think of me as their “adopted daughter.” He was her son and she grieves mightily for him.
Or how my third grader just doesn’t get multiplication tables? I mean DOESN”T GET IT. We have done flash cards and extra work sheets and after school tutoring and it just doesn’t compute and I’m not sure what to do?
Or that my one true joy, reading a book, has been zapped into oblivion by the stress of the past 4 months? That my eyes glaze over every time a crack the cover of a book?
Or do I write that my best friend and walking buddy moved away three weeks ago and I miss her terribly?
Yeah, I’ve got nothing…
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