pancake breakfast = yummy
Even though I'm not writing about it much anymore, I'm still deep in the trenches of a stressful volunteer position, the one I took on five months ago when I was under the impression that it would involve an hour or so of monthly meetings and a few other easy tasks throughout the school year. Of course my faithful readers know--or sort of know--that it turned into something along the lines of EVERY PARENT VOLUNTEER'S WORST NIGHTMARE. And by that I mean that circumstances changed dramatically due to some major administrative shifts, and that my fellow volunteers and I have since invested countless hours into, basically, saving a little school. I am fortunate that I adore this school, its teachers, its new director, its families, and my fellow parent volunteers. Everyone involved deserves a medal. But people, it is extremely stressful to hold other people's livelihoods in your hands, to gaze at an agency's budget and be faced with decisions about staffing and hours and salaries. When you're just a mom, and you never thought of yourself as an employer; you were just thinking of doing things like donating cookies to the school carnival. You didn't expect to lose many nights' sleep over keeping a preschool open. You didn't expect that your life would open up to include an entire additional endeavor amidst the mothering, housewifery, cooking, running, and writing--that now you would also have "help run the preschool" on the list of things taking up your time. And that it would be really hard.
So maybe it's not so surprising that I'm losing hair like a postpartum mama? Or that my adrenaline is in overdrive? Or that running five miles now feels not like a challenge but an escape?
I am praying and praying about the election. I've been so disappointed by human nature in the last several months; people I thought I knew have stomped all over me and others, people I trusted have turned out to be anything but trustworthy. There are people out there--people in my very own hard-core liberal state!--who truly believe that Barack Obama is "an Arab" and that he is someone to be feared, apparently because he's black with a name that doesn't sound like their own. There's a lot of disappointing behavior out there--in the larger world and in my own little world as well--and I'm just holding thoughts of the truly good people I know close to my heart and hoping against hope that November 4th brings some redeeming news. Because things are better in my life these days than they were last summer--the baby screams a little less, the mean former friend is over and done, the volunteer job has morphed from immediate crisis into chronic challenge--but that's not to say my hair isn't falling out in clumps. Which is never a good thing, people.