Of rotten apples and designer handbags…

I’m having deja vu and realizing that the second week of “back-to-school” is WAY harder than the first. We’ve settled into the reality that the new schedule is upon us and it isn’t slowing down anytime soon. My kids understand now that they HAVE to get up early and so they want out of that reality, no matter how great their new classes and teachers are.

“I have strep throat!” My son shouted this morning with no fever and no other symptoms to back it up.

Does he have it? Well, he could, and chances of that being true are good now that I’ve blogged about it. But really, it is more that he’s looking for an out.  He’s tired. He wants to ease back into this school schedule and there’s no easing at our pressure cooker of an exemplary rated school, trust me.

And, after several unpleasant interactions in the past 24 hours, I think I completely get what he’s doing. In fact, I think my throat is starting to hurt a little too maybe…(fake cough, fake cough…)

To classify them as “PTO bitches” is not really kind or fair to most of the hard-working PTO moms who I know and love. Because, in essence, the people who are REALLY running the PTO are women that I admire greatly. I have several good friends who do this, and they totally rock. But, the moms I am referring to are the ones who go to all the meetings, might handle a secondary role, but manage to gossip, stir the pot up, and cause all kinds of trouble for everyone else. They are also the fierce snubbers of anyone who doesn’t care a designer bag or wear full make-up and acceptable-by-their-standards clothing to everything–even the school pick-ups and drop-offs.

A few rotten stinkin’ apples always spoil the whole cart, don’t they?

Last night I attended a girl scout rally with my excited five-year-old. And, I saw several friends there who are wonderful, down-to-earth ladies who truly believe in girls scouts and give their time for a noble organization. And, then I saw them. The table of rotten apples–whispering, gossiping at inappropriate times, asking “strategic” questions about how many a troop could have, and scanning the other moms down to see who they might think was acceptable enough to be in their troop.

I don’t think I made the cut sitting in my faded t-shirt and khaki shorts, summer worn flip flops on my also worn pedicure. In fact, I’m pretty sure I didn’t even show up on their radar what-so-ever. I am not really all broken up by this, if you can’t tell.

And, so, I’m avoiding the PTO meeting today. Not because I don’t want to help out. I will be a room mom, or volunteer for events as needed. I already work on the yearbook committee. I know most of the moms who do a lot of work at my kids school already even. But, because I didn’t feel like showing up and listening to the apples again or dealing with that…life is too short to be catty if you asked me.

But, I wonder–what possesses a woman to become this way? After 10 years of being home and being surrounded by many of these “rotten apples,” at least I know that I am not susceptible of catching this disease myself. Although, sadly, I have seen it take one or two of the good moms I used to know. And, I just don’t understand it one bit.

Most of all, I keep wondering, if I was working full-time or I went back to my career, how easy would it be to just simply phase these people out of my life entirely? It certainly makes transitioning back to work sound worth it, doesn’t it?