Men prepare for the world of politics on the ball field, in the boardroom, or on a bloodstained battleground far from home, bombarded by horrors seared on hearts, souls, and sometimes, skin. Women prepare someplace far tougher.

The PTA.

Sarah Palin, Senator McCain’s pick for vice president, is hardly the first mother to join the Parent Teacher Association and suddenly discover the politics in her blood. And sometimes the blood in her politics.

“I was just your average hockey mom, and signed up for the PTA because I wanted to make my kids’ public education better,” Mrs. Palin told the Republican National Convention to wild cheers. They heard what she was really saying: I shut up that mom who wanted to spend the whole meeting talking about her son’s test phobia. I got the pizza guy to give us those pies for free. I chose “School of Rock” for movie night and crushed those Commies who wanted the Martha Graham documentary.

Think that’s easy? You haven’t been to a PTA meeting.

“Even after years of surviving boys’ club-type newsrooms, cut-throat business school classmates and starting my own business,” my Upper East Side friend Wendi e-mailed me when I asked, “I still was not in any way prepared for my stint as vice president of the Parents Association at my daughter’s pre-school. You know — the place your kid is only going to be for two years?”

I called for the juicy details.

In addition to tooth and (manicured) nail fights about the auction invitation, Wendi said — “I was supposed to oversee the invitation committee and the next thing I know was, ‘Wait. We didn’t approve this design.’ I’m like, ‘Who’s we? I thought I was the vice president of this committee.'”

Yes, in addition to those invite fights, she said, “You would not believe the fighting we had over what kind of wine and vodka to serve at the school auction. One of my friends wanted to donate the vodka and they said, ‘No. Because then she’ll be in control of what kind we serve.’ I’m like, ‘What is wrong with you people? It’s a fundraiser!’ What was really going on is these women sat there at school all day planning the overthrow of the world.”

See? Perfect place to start in politics. Said Wendi, “After my stint as the VP of the Parents Association, I could eat Joe Biden alive.”

“You do learn all these organizational skills,” the author of “The ParentPreneur Edge: What Parenting Teaches About Building a Successful Business,” Julie Kirk, said. “You’ve got to do planning and budgeting and present your budget, and defend it against the special interests.”

Special interests?

“The people who want to get rid of the wrapping paper fundraiser,” Ms. Kirk said, by way of example. “And they’re so emotional because you’re dealing with their kids.” Defuse a mom who thinks candy sale quotas are crippling her cutie and Putin is a cake walk.

“It is not unusual to find on a powerful woman’s resume that she started on a PTA,” Democratic political consultant Cathy Allen said. These women join to fight for more classrooms, or a safer playground. They chair a committee, march on city hall. “And then they see what a little bit of strength can do — particularly when it comes to choosing principals,” Ms. Allen said. That’s how they learn the first perk of politics: Patronage.

Pretty soon, PTA parents learn political perk no. 2: Pork.

“Teachers will help you out if you try to get them supplies,” Ms. Kirk said sagely. “Like, ‘I can get a couple of new mats for your classroom. Can you support this after-school activity?'” And that’s on top of an even more basic political skill: Using people, period.

“You listen to the things people say. Like, a freshman mom who came to a college counseling night for seniors asked, ‘Can you tell me exactly what would you recommend for my daughter who’s very bright but her GPA is not the highest and she has an interest in journalism but people don’t think she’s as smart as she is … ‘” a longtime PTA president, Kymberlee Estis, recalled. Instead of slapping the droner, “I went up to her later and said, ‘You should try this Web site.'” Nice. Then she signed the lady up to work on a fundraiser.

Lesson no. 3 (or so): You help constituents, they’ll help you.

Which brings us to schmoozing, the biggest lesson of all. When my friend Eileen became head of her sons’ Upper West Side PTA, she was invited to a confab of Manhattan private school PTA presidents.

“Oh my God,” she said. “The energy in that room! These are like the ultimate volunteer women. They’re all really smart and so committed and so friendly — they’ll walk into a room and say, ‘Hi! My name’s so and so. Who are you?’ And everybody’s complimentary and great on e-mail.”

Ultimately, this does not really mean that the president of the PTA is ready to be vice president (or president) of America.

Only that it’s not surprising she’d want to be.

lskenazy@yahoo.com