A few weeks ago I had a conversation with my sister-in-law about volunteering. We concluded that you either are a volunteer or you’re not. Stay-at-home status versus work-outside the home career, a house-full of children or none; it doesn’t really matter because a volunteer is just something that you are.
And any volunteer will tell you that sometimes they wish they could just say “no!” and shirk the sign-up sheet but like a moth to a flame, it’s impossible.
September is looming. I feel it. I have already noted that my summer is half-way over and before I know it the weather will turn, the snack-packs will reclaim their front of the cupboard real-estate and I will sit down with “The Schedule” and shuffle swim times with soccer games and tumble tots. Somehow everything will fall into place and within a few weeks we’ll run like a well-oiled machine from pool to field to court and back.
Every year when I organize the kids fall activities, I promise myself that this year I will stake those two precious hours from 9 am to 11 am to do whatever I want. Focus on me.
Groceries be damned!
But those sign-up sheets get me every time! Like an addict, I scrawl my name under bake-sales and fun fairs, class parent and field trips.
I try to live my life by following this simple rule: what you put in, you will get out.
Great communities don’t just happen. Great schools just don’t happen. In fact, very little of anything great “just happens”.
Although it sounds trite, I am happy to do my part because as much as I put in, I get so much more in return.
As this past school year was winding down, my six-year old came home from grade one and announced that he had volunteered to bring a snack tomorrow for his class party.
My head was swimming in the way that only a mother who is “limping across the finish line” knows and as much as I wanted to blurt out, “Why’d you do that!? Don’t you see how crazy it is this week!?” it made me proud to know that my son is a volunteer.
He’s one of us.