Joys of Motherhood

I really should know what I’m volunteering to do. Really, I should.

We’ve moved in the past year, and swim teams are big here. Very Big. Other parents remember you’re child’s last and best swim times kind of big. I’m still unsure where they even publish the swim times. And trust me, where I grew up, swimming holes did not have swim teams.

However, being the most wonderful, supportive mom I am, and also one of the few mom’s just sitting around simply watching her child swim without an actual job to do at the last three swim meets, I caved and replied to the desperate email for a Marshal for tonight’s swim meet. Now, if I’d taken about 2 seconds to consider what the title “Marshal” usually refers to (as in Marshal Dillon from Gunsmoke) maybe I wouldn’t have hit that reply button so quickly.

Imagine my joy when I was instructed that the job of Marshal is so highly important that it is the only job required to wear a neon orange vest at the entire meet. Lucky for me, I’m sure this will only highlight my Marshaling capabilities.

Oh, yes, the actual job description. I required to keep order on the pool deck and not let people walk around when and where they’re not supposed to be walking. Right.

Did I mention that I am ridiculously allergic to conflict? I mean I can boss a group of 4 year old preschoolers like General Swartzkoff. But tell other adults, that I don’t know, to stop walking? This should be one of my most impressive moments as the new girl in the neighborhood.

I’ll let you know how it goes. Right now I need to pick out an outfit to compliment neon orange and fix my hair. Because maybe if my hair looks good enough, they won’t care if I’m just standing there sweating while wearing the vest.