When we moved to California at the start of my oldest child's kindergarten year, I figured volunteering at school would be an easy way to meet people and get to know our new school. I was right — and then some.
Pretty much every year for the next 12 years, I was a room parent for one or more classes. I photographed the yearbook, was a Girl Scout leader, organized teacher appreciation events, and became the parent you could count on when someone needed to send an email, make a sign-up sheet, or figure out how to get 30 kids to participate in something.
My husband rarely volunteered beyond grilling burgers at the annual carnival, which was more of a dad hangout than a traditional volunteer gig.
I genuinely enjoyed my volunteer experiences. Volunteering gave me a community in a place where we were new, and it helped me feel connected to what my kids were doing at school. But by the time my youngest headed to high school, I was ready for a break.
After more than a decade of volunteering, I was ready to step back and reclaim some of my time. With all three kids in high school, I figured our days of volunteering at school were mostly behind us. I certainly didn't expect my husband to jum...