Well, it's been a lifetime in the making, but I'm making significant steps. Today, I did it. I said "no".
Middle's gym called. The gym where she spends 7+ hours a week training to be a gymnast. This weekend is the Pikes Peak Cup. It's a local meet here. It's a big meet and lots and lots and lots and lots of folks come to particpate. Lots of gymnasts. Lots of parents. Lots of their loved ones. All of their siblings. It's crazy busy. From t-shirt sales and tickets to snack booth, ribbons, timing, posting scores. It's crazy busy . . . and level 5 through elites compete in sessions that run from Friday afternoon through Sunday. It's a qualifying meet for more meets down the road. It's a biggie.
Well, when you agree to allow a child to compete at club level, you sign some papers in blood that say you'll be part of the booster club. You agree to volunteer and pay through your bum. You'll sell jerky or popcorn or whatever, whenever. You agree to volunteer to man these meets and hide the chaos behind a facade of complete organization.
Today (yes . . 48 hours prior to the first session beginning), the gym called to offer me the "opportunity" to "get my feet wet" and "see what we'll be dealing with when Middle competes."
Speechless me. Offer me the opportunity? Eh? How about rope me into something. Get my feet wet? What, I'm drenched from the crotch down already. See what we'll be dealing with? Dude. Do they really think I'd agree to pay $285 every month with no goal in sight? Do parents really shell out that kind of money with blind trust? She's 4 months from the big "move-up" . . . .it's a little late for dipping a toe in.
So, to the sweet, sweet gal that called, I said, "No. We're planning to come to the elite session to watch . . but there's really not time for volunteering this weekend." And I'm left wondering . . . where are all the booster club members that are committed already? Why are there 32 slots to fill?
It felt kinda good, in all honesty . . . to just say, "no, thank you."