The Ups and Downs of Volunteering at school

So, last week during the curriculum night at kiddo's school, they passed around a volunteer sheet for the school's annual walkathon. Since I'm technically a stay at home mommy right now, I jumped at the chance! I mean, how fun to watch all those little guys walkin' their tails off to support their school?
Soooooo...I hopped on the bus down there, attempting to be as timely as possible. I realized quickly that the transfer I had would expire before I got done, and prayed that kiddo's bus driver would allow me to hitch a ride back with the kids. They all know me from his drop off anyway, so it's not like I was a perfect stranger. As I walk up to the volunteer sign in, the gal marking off names seems quite relieved. "Your a first grade mom, so you'll be marking off the first grader lap cards. The SPE teacher was glad you came!" I know a couple of kiddo's classmates from all my time popping in there, so I was definitely excited to see all those glowing faces.
As I walk over to my purple (yay!) station across the feild, I realize I am the only parent there. All the other grade tables have 3 or 4 parents...where were my companions? Hmmm...maybe because it's first grade the parents aren't used to needing to help out at school? Ah well, here's hoping all the coffee I downed will give me the energy to keep up with them!
As I sit there and ponder my solitude and look across the feild, I also realize I am "not dressed appropriately" in comparison to the rest of the parents (who several of them decided to shoot me some oh-so-lovely looks from nearby stations). According to my observation, a mommy is supposed to be wearing yoga pants, a hideous parka, and track shoes. I am wearing a pink sweatshirt with skulls on it, rolled jeans, and a big bulky set of black boots. hmmm. Apparently the large hot pink Nightmare Before Christmas tote bag is getting a few glares, too. Greaaaat.
Finally another parent wanders over to my station, trailed by one of the office workers that appears quite frantic. I quickly discover the office worker is the only person who speaks spanish, and quickly explains the task at hand to my new companion. I stammer a greeting in my bastardization of this poor woman's language, and realize this now makes the day infinitely more interesting. Luckily she speaks about as much english as I do spanish, so we stumbled through small talk while waiting for the kids to get out on the field. While we're talking, another staffer walks up. She had one of those atrocious boxy pink sweaters (the kind Martha Stewart wears), and starts lamenting that had she known she'd be with us, she would've tried to match her clothes to the station. Really, lady? I just kind of laughed, and made introductions.
"oh, I am a sub teacher for the district, and I actually did the spanish class all day today!" she crowed.
My partner looked very relieved, and asked her which grades she taught (in spanish). Sadly she was greated by a blank look, because apparently Super Sub here didn't actually speak a lick of spanish. I am now thoroughly impressed with the district's idea of adequate substitutes.
As the kids are released, I discover that the little balls of energy that they be are interpreting "walkathon" as "run like hell for the next hour and a half", and get to giggle my head off as I watch the little buggers go tearing around the track. Anthony and his classmates all ran up to me and gave me high fives, and I cheered them on. As the first grades completed a lap around the track, they were supposed to come up to our station and get heir card marked. They were so cute! One little gal had me laughing so much. About a full size smaller than her peers, this precious little asian girl was giving her classmates a run for their money. Apparently she decided to train for a 5k, because as the others settled down to a walk by the third lap, she ran through 15. I think she had the most in her class, and would do this little hop to a halt in front of me every time to get her card marked. She must have been exhausted, but the grin on her face when she finished was priceless, right down to the two missing teeth. I swear to god I almost took her home.
The SPE teacher certainly had her hands full, trying to herd the little group around the track. My favourite little person, Anika, was trailing a lot, but since she knew who I was she'd eagerly come scampering over with her huge grin, screaming "mark meeeeeee!" Kids like her make life amazing, ya know??
Meanwhile, Super Sub and some other horrid little blond gal began cackling over teacher life, and scooting up away from myself and my spanish pal. Conveniently we were so distracted by all the kids, we were occupied enough not to worry about it, although it was mildly irritating that they were waving the kids away from us to sign off the cards. Apparently we were inferior box-crosser-outers.
As the time came to a close, Super sub and Blondie snatched up all the cards and started a weird form of organizing. When I asked what they were doing, they explained that they were alphabetizing them for the next round (parents were invited to come down and walk with their children's cards in the evening). As I watched, I discovered that they had invented a whole new way of arranging the alphabet, half from right to left, and a pile that was up and down. Sheesh, no wonder our kids are suffering in school.
I gave up, wished my spanish pal well, and wandered off to kiddo's bus. Now, there is a part two to this story, and it's one hell of a part two. But for now I shall sum up my lovely experience thusly:
First graders are awesome.
Grade schoolers in general have far more energy than we adults we could ever imagine.
Suburban parents are awful dressers.
When I become a teacher, no matter how temporarily, I will stick out like a sore thumb in their bad sweater wearing, obsessively controlling, awfully catty ranks.
Our district has some craptastic sub teachers.
Teachers like my son's SPE and general class ones make it ok, because they are awesome.