taking the passive out of passive-aggressive

Sunday, January 30, 2005

As unlikely as it sounds, I am in fact Class Mother. There are four of us, which seems absurd in a class of 24 children, but there's LOTS to be done. This school loooooves its extracurricular activities. So we have to plan Teacher Appreciation Breakfast, complete with omelets; Spring Fair; parental get-togethers; Shrove Tuesday pancake breakfasts; and on and on.

The thing about the other mothers is that they're either really high-powered career women (states attorneys, pediatric researchers, that sort of thing) or they stay home and devote themselves to being mommies. Each group seems equally capable of herculean feats of organization, volunteer time, and parental involvement that I, with my half-assed career and half-assed mommying, can't even come close to achieving.

We had a class mom's meeting this afternoon, to plan our parents' night get together, and I tried to lay low: "I'll bring trashbags," I said, and "Well, I guess I can do the sign up sheet." Meanwhile, the two careerwomen were all set to buy everything, plan everything, and do pretty much all the hard work to make it all happen. I suppose I contributed some ideas, mainly piping up once in a while, "Why don't we just keep it simple?" which seemed to mollify them, and also kept the prospect of six-course dinners at bay. But all in all, I'm pretty lame.

Is there a special gene that people get, that they figure out what they're going to be from a young age, ambitiously pursue it their whole lives, and maintain this insane level of drive and organization over the years? If so, I lack it. I never really had a Plan. Instead, I putter along thinking about what I'm going to make for dinner and whether or not I should buy those shoes, and what color hould the bedroom be? This, I can handle. But maybe I should get one, a Plan. Maybe it's about time.

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