Sunday, April 27, 2008

In which I learn the penalty of being nice

So I was going to tell about Joanne.

We started off the school year in the summer with a planning meeting for going to summer training in Austin. It's a good weekend's worth of classes and information about rules, practices, procedures and policies, as well as lots of practical information on doing the PTA thing. Usually all the officers go, but this year the president had family commitments and couldn't go. A few weeks before the trip nothing had been done about planning transportation, or anything else for that matter, so I called a meeting at the neighborhood pool to get the ball rolling.

At that meeting there were two returning officers and a bunch of new ones, myself included. We started talking room arrangements and car arrangements, and the aforementioned Candy spoke only twice: to ask exactly how many of these classes she HAD to go to, (bylaws say 75% minimum) and to say that since we were talking business, she was getting back in the water.

Sigh.

During the trip nobody seemed to want to talk about PTA business or update anyone. Joanne and I roomed together and we spent the time talking about what we'd like to see, what we'd do if we could, how we'd prefer things to be. We spent hours on plans for the coming year, and discovered we agreed on a lot of things. But after coming home, we two decided on a policy: we'd be able to vent to each other, but only during 'Round Tables' when we'd agree the discussion would go no further.

The year started badly, with rumors that I'd broken confidentiality over health screenings. Though not remotely true, the story went all over the school and there are people to this day who still believe it. Joanne spent the time angry at the perpetrators, one of whom of course was Candy. When we'd get together to vent about it, I certainly let loose about her and a few other people. Some of these people would take home money and not turn it in for deposit for months, and others wouldn't even read the budget and know what their limits were on spending. Some bounced checks and forgot to repay after several notices. Some just didn't show up for meetings or take care of the basic details of their job.

But I could always count on Joanne to listen, talk it out, and keep me from going over the edge in dealing with these people.

Then came Robbie and his sisters.

Robbie's a sad kid from a sad home. He and his two sisters are legend around the school for misbehaving. People won't let their kids play with Robbie and the girls. They alternate turns in the office for discipline. And sadly for Joanne, her daughter is in the same class with one of the girls. This girl spits at Joanne's daughter, pulls her hair, screams in her face, and a dozen other things I can't think of. Joanne has had it with the school and trying to get this worked out.

But one day I saw Robbie and the girls walking home in the freezing rain. They aren't allowed to ride the bus anymore, a wonderful development for all the other kids, and one I'm satisfied with. But as I passed them in the cold and wet, I knew I couldn't let them go home alone. I made them climb into the car and have been taking them home, rain or shine, ever since. Teachers know to keep them close until I arrive, and then they happily release them to me.

As near as I can tell from clues I've put together, Joanne is pissed about this. Never mind it keeps these three kids out of her neighborhood and puts them back at their own home; never mind that the kids would otherwise dawdle home and wreak havok along the way anywhere they could. She's reported to be upset because I'm treating them nicely.

What, pray tell, am I supposed to do about that?

Next time, the results of her pissed-off state, and what I ultimately found out.

Friday, April 25, 2008

Balls!

What a day. As soon as it began, I was ready to go back to bed.

The little Critter has a perfect attendance record, but today she woke up crying. Apparently JJ left less-than-quietly this morning, and the usually-frightfully-difficult-to-awaken LC was jolted awake with the thought that Daddy had not hugged her goodbye. JJ NEVER does; he's out the door too early. But today it bothered her. She climbed into bed with me to say "Daddy left!" and then began saying how she needed a nap, and she needed to stay home and play hooky.

Oh, bother.

Then after repeating said phrases a few more times to make absolutely sure I heard them, she bounced up and logged on to the computer in the bedroom.

I had no sooner got back from biking her to school when the phone rang. It was Joanne from PTA. Joanne had hung up before I could answer, and then Candy called a few minutes later.

Side note; I cannot abide Candy. It's gradually gone from

* a justifiably low opinion of her abilities and skills, to
* wonderment at her nastiness being tolerated, to
* bewilderment that she is even acknowledged to exist, to
* downright loathing.

She is a rumor-monger, one who has taken every chance she could to make me look bad. She's perpetuated myths about me that have made me mad enough to punch holes in walls. Hardly anything gets me that angry. And she served on the nominating committee with Joanne and has learned not to leave her side. Joanne is the school's PTA darling, working three times as much and as hard as anyone else. But Candy has rubbed off on Joanne, and that has strained my relationship with Joanne a lot.

So whenever Candy calls, something is up.

But it wasn't Candy on Candy's phone, it was Joanne's friend Marilu. Marilu wanted to know where the oreo truffles were that I was to have made for the teacher birthdays this morning.

Well, all year I've been making these things, dozens at a time, for every single teacher. Usually it's been about eight to ten dozen. This time she asked me for 28 dozen. Oh my stars. Never mind that I'm working on three campaigns for school board, that I have five classes in production, that I have maybe a husband and children in there to deal with.

So I said "Why don't you ever ask Sandra to do them? Sandra knows how to make them!" To which she replied that no, Sandra would not make them, would never agree to make them, and no explanation was given.

Aimee piped up and said she'd try to make half of them if I would e-mail her the recipe. So I did, with lots of helpful hints. And I made my fourteen dozen happily (okay, rather grumpily, but I made the durned things) and brought them to school a day early. I left them right atop the file cabinet with Joanne's name on them prominently.

So when Marilu called I presumed they just hadn't bothered to look for them. No, they're calling to tell me they are short.

And in my head, I was saying "How is that MY problem?"

Every month I told myself I'd tell Joanne to take a hike about these things. She has waited until the last minute to call me and ask me to do them, or she has forgotten until the day before to give me the number of orders she needed. But still I made them without complaint.

Not this week. And because she couldn't be bothered to check on the other half, she was short. And I get to look bad because of it. Only I could try to do something nice for someone and still get blamed for it going to crap. Remind me to tell you the other beef Joanne has with me. It's a killer, and it's why we do nothing together socially anymore.

Saturday, April 19, 2008

Drama Mammas

I promised to tell the tale of interfering parents re drama clases, so...

I have one class on Tuesday at an elementary school. The kids have known each other a while in a school context, so they tend to mesh better as a class. This is good and bad. The good is that I don't have to coax them along to admit newcomers. The bad is that they all know each other and tend to be harder to settle down.

That's okay, though. I'm getting reports from the boss that they respond to me much better than their previous teacher who was not at all able to get them to behave. This is a good sign, and I hope I get them again next year. They're likable, funny, and usually teachable.

There are a pair of twin boys in that class, Adam and Tim. Tim is tow-headed, confident, outspoken and cute. Adam is more shy, freckledy, sandy-haired, and more hesitant. Tim makes a good lead in a play; Adam makes a good character for a smaller part. I cast them as such in the Western we're doing, and had Tim cast as the surprise hero. I had noticed something in him during parent day casting, so I had read this play with him in mind for the role.

The first class we read from the script, Tim had to be noticed by Rachel, who had to say a line to the effect that Tim was handsome. Both Tim and Rachel rebelled. Apparently, Rachel likes Tim, and didn't want that to be memorialized in the play.

Shoot me, I thought. Shoot me now. Then I told them all to grow up, but I said it nicely.

So my boss called me and said Tim is upset about the play. Tim and Adam's mother said that Tim is always the Golden One and Adam needs his chance to be in the spotlight. She wanted to pull both the boys out of the program, but would keep them in if I switched their roles. Plus, Mama was going to give Tim $75 to swap.

I did NOT want to do this. But since they pushed, I did. Subsequent rehearsals have shown that Adam does not remember lines well, no matter how I drill him. I sent the script via my boss to the mother, asking her to work on it with them. I'll know Tuesday whether she has or not. I'm trying not to be a stinking perfectionist about this, but being second-guessed by a mom who has seen one-half of a class this year is so not right. Adam has so far spent his time onstage when he isn't saying a line half-lying on top of a prop suitcase. This bodes ill, I say.

Then today, I got another whammy.

Vince started out in my lower elementary group and complained that it was too babyish for him. His mother complained to my boss that he needed to be challenged more, and insisted he be moved to the older group. OK, that too was done, despite my objections. He did do well in the parent day exercises, he learns lines well and listens to my suggestions and acts on them. So far so good.

Except when I handed out papers to all the students about the upcoming final performance and awards day, his mother hit me with the fact that they'll be out of town that day.

This date has been in stone for months; parents, kids, teachers, everyone has known about it. But since Vince's older brother is receiving an award for some SAT achievement that day, Vince is not supposed to be at his own award ceremony.

Luckily my boss was near when I got the news, and she was exasperated. She asked me to look for another student in another class who might be able to come to the three extra classes in the three weeks before the performance and step in to his part. She told me that if they decide not to come to the performance, he doesn't have to come back to class. Now I am SO GLAD I didn't give him the larger part I debated casting him in. Instead all my actors are girls, half of them playing guys. And now, I have to ask another girl to come play HIS role too in case his parents don't make other arrangements. On top of that, his older brother is in another drama class with a performance on the same day, and they didn't say anything about that brother missing yet, though they knew it as well. I don't even know if that brother is the one getting the award, but if not, that puts TWO brothers out of their performances for the sake of another one.

So I have four weeks. I'm not happy at all about the changes, but I have to make it work. Somehow. I know the problems aren't huge, but when the kids don't do well, I look bad. And when the parents interfere, the kids do less well than otherwise.

I'm going to have to tell them NOT to save the drama for their mama.

Monday, April 14, 2008

Bluebonnets

We went out to the hill country yesterday, looking for bluebonnets and enjoying the view. It took forever to find a decent field, but we stumbled onto one. I didn't know La Quinta meant "next to bluebonnet fields."









Friday, April 04, 2008

Proof that...

a) girls really are smarter than boys
b) boys have too much time on their hands
c) with the YouTube generation on the rise, soon girls will outnumber boys in our country and China will advertise for mail order US brides.

Want proof?

Wednesday, April 02, 2008

Now you don't have to see the long version

If you're one of the three people left on this planet who haven't seen Star Wars (the Little Critter is one of the other two) now you don't have to.

Tuesday, April 01, 2008

Madame Secretary

Well, the local convention was a smash hit among members of my precinct. Out of 13 that I had signed up to come, ten came - amazing numbers. Perhaps there IS a resurgence of political activism in my little neighborhood after all. We were the 4th largest delegation. Yeah, baby.

We only had four slots allotted our precinct to take to state as delegates and alternates. My seat was coming from another pool, so there were 9 people vying for the seats. We filled the 4, and then a fifth person was chosen to go from the at-large pool of spots, and then a sixth person decided to go as a guest or a sargeant-at-arms, so out of ten, six for sure, and maybe seven will go (one is a spouse of a delegate.)

On top of all the state business, we managed to get out in record time, thanks in part to one of my delegates. I took him aside early in the day and prompted him to ask a question clarifying the rules. I wouldn't have had to do this, except the body elected not to have the rules read, and then promptly started breaking the rules they refused to read. Still, we were done with all business at least an hour earlier than any previous convention adjournment, and people left happy and excited about going to state convention.

I had to struggle a little with the chair over how speakers were handled, just because, as secretary, I had to try to keep up with the changes the body was making. Some eager members were so excited over their points to be made that they made speeches before motions, and it kept throwing me off. Then this phenomenon, known previously only on CSPAN, reared its ugly head: 'Will you yield the balance of your time?"

Once again, if one had READ the rules, one would know that the speaker limitations are specific to the NUMBER of speakers as well as the time each may speak. I'm getting the hang of this thing, but I think we need to do a better job of educating the body on rules. If they'll let themselves be educated!

I'm still in recovery, as I was up at 4:30 to get the business started. Note to self: don't volunteer anymore for the Arrangements Committee.

After I am really rested up, I'll go into the science program I'm neck-deep in as well as those pesky parents from drama class. Until then, I'm taking every available opportunity to be a lazy bum.