MotherReader

My week has been tough. I lost the first round of Volunteer Chicken, which means I now have the responsibility of placing kids in Girl Scout troops at my school. Unfortunately, there are a lot more girls than troops, so some of the moms of these troopless youngsters are going to have to step up and make a troop — or two. And guess who has to talk them into it? Oh, and I need to pay attention to my own troop at some point this month, since we’re going camping in a week.

As if that weren’t enough, I coordinate the Drama Club for the school. I generally don’t mind doing it, because it’s very little work. I change the dates on a flyer that I inherited from the coordinator before me. I photocopy it, the teachers hand it out, I pull together the forms and money from the kids who’ve joined. After that, it’s pretty much in the hands of the instructor.

But today, as the last straw in my volunteering haze, I received an email from the County Schools Official in Charge of Meaningless Things telling me that I can’t use the name of the instructor’s company on the flyer itself. Did I mention that it’s the same flyer that’s been used for at least four years? Knowing that, I hadn’t waited for the official go-ahead, and it’s been copied, gone home, and been returned. So, oops? But the best part is that under her signature she had the phrase “Pray for Peace.” On a county email. In this extremely politically-correct county. I mean, how can I object to the phrase “Pray for Peace”? Everyone wants peace, right? But still, “pray” is a pretty loaded word for an official email. I’d say more loaded than my including Acting for Young People on my flyer.

Anyway, the whole thing has given me the Volunteering Blues and inspired me to write this poem. Actually it’s more like a song, especially given that I had the tune in mind as I wrote it. Whatever — I think it counts for Miss Rumphius’s Poetry Challenge and for Poetry Friday. Read, Write, Believe has the round-up. Now who has the guitar to accompany my singing?

The Volunteering Blues
I’ve got the volunteering blues.
I’ve got the do-gooder blues.
Ain’t got a moment to call my own.
Am I too old to run away from home?
Lawd, would someone get me off of the phone!
I’ve got the volunteering blues.
I’ve got the do-gooder blues.
The Girl Scout troops and the PTA —
I’m not sure I can make it through another day.
And here comes a memo from the county to say,
“You used the wrong words for your Drama Club play!”
If everyone thinks I’m doing it all wrong,
Then why have they stayed away for far too long?
They’re the reason why I’m writing this here song.
I’ve got the volunteering blues.
I’ve got the do-gooder blues.
Ain’t got a moment to call my own.
Am I too old to run away from home?
Lawd, would someone get me off of the phone!
I’ve got the volunteering blues.
I’ve got the do-gooder blues.

You can take a bit of my blues away by giving me some titles for the list of Best Books of 2007 (So Far). I have just under thirty participants, and I’m still missing a HUGE book. Think YA.

Getting volunteers is the Mom version of Chicken. You keep expressing the need, the importance, of getting this role filled. You wax poetic about the opportunity. You threaten the consequences of NOT having a volunteer. You do all this until someone caves.

I’ve been the one who caved, which is why I am now in the position of trying to get others to cave. It’s ironic. It’s also exhausting, so I haven’t had time/energy to post, or read much for that matter.

Instead, I’ll point you to an article about making reading “Mo” fun. That’s all I’ve got. Oh, unless you’d be interested in getting together with me and other DC area folk. In that case, stop by The Longstockings and let Caroline know that you don’t think that New York City is really all that.