The first meeting of the parent-teacher organization was held last night. I was a few minutes late arriving because I had to change into my miniskirt before walking the three blocks to the school. This was my first meeting so I didn't have any dirt on anyone in order to sock it to 'em.
Ha ha, does that joke ever get old? For me, not yet. Ahhh, it's PTO now, instead of PTA, and I don't live anywhere near Harper Valley or any valley, so, I guess it's just funny to me.
I can't get over the fact that I went to the PTO meeting. It's not that I'm a goth-mom non-joiner type, nor would that be a bad thing. It's that, I've been overwhelmed by school starting and helping in the classroom and soccer practice and my husband's football officiating during the week....excuse me, I have to go move my SUV and then bring in the wine coolers because I've TURNED INTO A YUPPIE SOCCER MOM SCHOOL SUPPORTER RA RA RA WHERE ARE MY DAMN POMPOMS???!?!?
When did this happen? When did I go from cool mom to soccer mom? I say that in the hopes that at some point I actually was a cool mom. Hmmmm, it must have changed right about the time we signed up for soccer, I am thinking? And what's so bad about it, anyway. So I went to a PTO meeting. That's good, right?
Part of me knows that it is a good thing to get involved and help the school, to be present and get to know people. The other part of me thinks that there is a reason the soccer mom stereotype exists, and it exists because of the annoying people who drive the Canyoneros and go to precious' soccer games with their perfect hairdos and nails and purses, perfect clothes worn on their perfectly toned and tanned bodies and talk about how they just LOVE their kid's Mandarin language teacher and how you must absolutely just should call them some time, really. Kisses to poopsie!
The thing is, I have nothing against working out, or having your hair and nails done, or Chinese language classes, or even the nickname Poopsie, if it's in jest. I guess there are different levels of soccer-momdom and I have not ascended (descended?) to that icky stereotypical realm. It's a weird feeling when you find yourself doing all these things that possibly could set you into that place to be That Person who you don't think that you are. I don't like how I worry about how I look. That is so high school, and I am way too old to be in high school, so it follows that I am way too old to go back to those insecurities. Funny how easily they come back to haunt.
I want to be there for my kid and help out at school and yes, she plays soccer. I don't think that's part of the soccer-mom stereotype, at least not the one I'm so worried about.
I think it's that women are always defining and redefining our selves and our roles, and let's face it, society doesn't really lend much support to the idea that what we choose is acceptable. There's more contention than acceptance. Seemingly more women and mothers criticize one another for an endless amount of topics, be they wine playdates or debating cloth or disposable. Ug. I'm tired of the criticism and the categorizing.
I'm too exhausted to judge you.
It comes to this: I want to define myself. I don't want anyone else to do it for me. I hope you reach the same conclusion.
In other words, no one's going to tell me I've been wearin' my dresses way to high, or anything else. Now, let's raise some damn cash for the school so I can get home to my hooch!