Last night, we attended our elementary school’s Welcome Back Fair. The kids got their classroom assignments (both are separated from their best friend; both are happy with their teachers) and I DID NOT VOLUNTEER FOR ANYTHING.

For the past five years, I’ve been a room mom, and for the past two years, I’ve also been in charge of organizing and galvanizing the room parents. I am friends with the new room parent chair, so I promised to visit her booth during the fair and let her pick my brain about recruiting room parents. I was a little nervous about doing this. Would she beg me to be a room mom again? But by the time I visited her booth, both my kids’ classes had room parents!

I have been psyching myself up for this all summer, regularly writing in my journal, I will not be a room mom. I will not volunteer for anything else. I will not be a room mom. I will not feel guilty about this. But I did not realize I had been holding my breath on the room parent front until I saw the signup sheet with parent names in the slots for both kids’ classes.

IT’S DONE.

I won’t be guilted, begged, or blackmailed into being a room mom.

I won’t have to protect my boundaries and feel guilty about taking time to heal from some major, soul-shredding burnout.

My room mom crown has been retired, folks, and my mental load is suddenly much, much lighter.

You can’t see me, but I’m doing a victory dance. Ok, I’m actually sitting on an armchair relaxing, but in my heart, I’m doing the jitterbug and flashing some serious jazz hands.