How I ended up with an all-homeschooled Girl Scout Troop... part 3

In reading the other posts about my first troop, I realized that I've neglected to point out the positive stuff. We did some good things for various charities, for example.

There's a local shelter called My Father's House. It's the only family shelter in our area. Most shelters don't allow families to stay together, instead separating the men from the women.

This place is more like a home. Each family is assigned a large bedroom with its own bathroom. They all share a communal kitchen. We came up with the idea of making birthday party boxes for the kids who were in the shelter. We all met one afternoon at a local 99 cent store and spent some of our hard-earned cookie money on party stuff. Not a party for us, though.

In a shoebox, we wrapped paper plates and cups, napkins, party hats, streamers, noisemakers, a toy or two and some birthday candles. The girls decorated the wrapping paper for a boy or a girl, depending on what we'd purchased. The shelter had a volunteer who baked a cake each time a child living there had a birthday. So the rest of the party for each kid came out of the box.

We did a lot of different activities, and went on a few outings. It wasn't all snotty girls and grumpiness, and we all managed to have a good time quite often. I took lots of pictures of smiling girls having fun.

But things were changing. As the (schooled) girls got older, other activities began taking their attention. We had girls miss meetings for dance class and gymnastics and art classes and because mom couldn't get her to meetings because she was driving a sibling to a class. The Girl Scout troop was not everyone's priority. I began to resent spending so much prep time and not even getting the courtesy of a phone call to tell me when someone wasn't going to show.

My coleader was involved in the PTSA, which for those of you who don't know, stands for Parent Teacher Student Association. Most of the other troop moms were part of it, too. They saw each other all the time. They all had so much in common, and began to band together. So did their daughters. When we went on outings, Alyssa was blatantly excluded. So was I.

We did an overnight at a Girl Scout property, and I felt like the only dog in a gathering of cats. All evening long, while the girls ran around upstairs, the moms sat around downstairs and complained. They complained about this teacher and that. They talked about how angry they were about the testing their kids had to go through.

One of the moms made a remark to me about how I didn't have to "cope" since I had "opted out." (As if I had no idea what goes on in school.)

I smiled and said, "You're right. I wouldn't put up with that crap for more time than it took for me to take my daughter by the hand and walk out the door. I can't imagine why anyone puts up with it."

I'm sure you can imagine how well my retort went over. :-D

The conversation turned to their husbands. To listen to these women talk, you'd think they'd all participated in a contest where the prize was to be shackled for life to the world's biggest asshole. The trouble was, every one of them thought her hubby was first prize and worked really hard to prove it to the others.

I didn't have anything to contribute to that discussion, either. I married a really good man. These shrews were all involved in a game of one-upmanship, aimed at showing just what a stupid piece of shit their husbands were. I would never talk badly about Eric in a gathering. He's a great guy, a wonderful husband and father, and I'm grateful for our good marriage and friendship. I found it an appalling and distasteful display.

I took a walk.

The deal on that excursion was that the girls would sleep upstairs and the moms on the ground floor. The moms agreed among themselves that there would be NO CHILDREN ALLOWED downstairs.

When we had all been lying in bed in the dark for about half an hour, one of the kids came down, turned on a light and wanted to sleep next to her mother. She was summarily dismissed. About half an hour later, Lyssa came down, crying. This time I turned on a light. I don't know exactly what was going on, except that the other girls were making her feel bad, and she didn't want to be with them anymore. I sent her back upstairs to get her sleeping bag and pillow and while the glares of all the other adults stabbed me, got her a mattress from the stack and placed it on the floor next to where I was sleeping. I think it was the look on my face that stopped anyone from commenting, although I overheard a remark the next day. Not that I cared.

We continued on with the troop, but it wasn't all that much fun for us anymore. I began thinking about just quitting Girl Scouts completely.

Tomorrow (unless you're getting bored) the proverbial last straw.