Jacelyn's actual birthday went well, too. When I dropped her off at school that morning I handed her teacher cupcakes for the kiddies, two gourmet carrot cakes for the teacher and aide, and goodie bags for the little ones. At her school the kids can dress up on their birthdays, so that morning she was insisting on a pretty dress. The only problem I had with that was that her class had PE that day, and I couldn't see her running around the sandy playground in church clothes and Mary Janes. Not to mention that the child falls down constantly, so shoes are always an issue. We compromised with a matching skort and shirt and her tennis shoes. Everyone was happy.
I am starting to catch on to the finer points of school volunteering. These are the rules of parent volunteering:
- Anything you say regarding something you can or cannot do should be addressed to the person in charge and as many other people involved as possible. You should also put your statement in writing.
- What you have just said and/or written will be immediately disregarded and you will be scheduled at the whim of the person in charge.
I signed up for substitute lunch duty at the beginning of the school year, with a note that I do work full time and will not always be available, and will definitely not be available on Mondays (too busy). I have been called numerous times with inquiries, always on Sunday nights or early Monday mornings, for Monday lunch help. Sigh. At the last PTA meeting, I signed up to help with MayFest clean-up. I signed up specifically for clean-up, on a piece of paper under the heading "Clean-Up: 6:45pm", and noted after my name I will only be available after 6pm as I work on Saturdays. Well, yesterday, stapled behind the Wednesday school newsletter there is a nifty little spreadsheet of assignments for MayFest, and where am I listed? In the plant booth from 1:00-4:30. Wha? God love them. I'm glad he does, because it's hard for me. We'll see how that phone call goes.
That's all from me for now - the desire for coffee is overriding my desire to blather about myself. Frank out!