Life in a small town (or near one)

Small towns are "perfect" to raise your children in.

Or at least I think so since I turned out so well.

However, I'm in awe of my mom and my mother-in-law. Either

a) things were considerably different in the 1980's
b) I'm a sucker and do too much or
c) they were superwomen.

Or maybe all of the above.

This week I'm feeling highly overwhelmed and underappreciated. I have given myself the new title of "club mom" for the figure skating club. I'm helping out the president, the secretary didn't know how to take minutes, so I helped her, I schedule the ice, I help pick up the littlest kids so they can learn to skate (and get a sore back and bruises where they kick me), I do the budgets (at least that's my job), I get workers for the kitchen, I explain the programs to the CanSkate co-ordinator (and try to explain the concept of independent practice to the transition parents) I sort out the various activities for the test skaters and I communicate to the community. Actually, I'm about ready to take the girls to skate in Brandon. Yes, I'd pay a fortune in gas and more in ice fees, but I wouldn't have so much work to do!

Now, I know that both my moms served long-term on figure skating executives. My mom did president - I think more than once. And she worked! Kaye did her part too - and she had four kids! I don't know how they managed working at rinks, keeping us clean and busy, keeping school and clubs going, and driving - everywhere.

I'm already tired, and it's just October.

I could quite happily crawl into a hole right now - I have halloween costumes to sew today, need to get myself and the girls ready to skate (and do the general meeting for skating), need to make supper for the rink (we're there from 4 until potentially 8) need to get ready for enrolment tomorrow and should do laundry so I can pack for the weekend. Dale has had to take over the work on the festival poetry, the girls have cooking club at school tomorrow and I still need to get some paperwork done for the farm.

And we need to get things from Brandon...maybe. Our trip west may have to be put on hold - this weekend looks like it might be okay to spray on. So I'm not actually counting on it either way - which means I may be packing like a mad fool on Friday. Or not. I'd like to get away, but I'm not going to get excited...

So, I'm off to go try to figure out my serger. It has been here for months, but I haven't had time to play with it. Charli's costume will be my test run - that could be pretty scary. Took me an hour to thread the thing last night. Wish me luck!