Living At Wit's End

So I sat down today to write a blog post on my new resolve, to take the bull by the horns, and how I plan to do something about the chaos and mess, starting with baby steps.   Well, I quickly realized I hadn’t finished part two of “In the Moment”.   Must finish part two before I can compose a new post.   Has it really been almost three months since I wrote that?   Let me see, I know I made notes on what I was going to write about in part two, where are they?   Dining room table, last I remember.   Oh my!   Look how much stuff has accumulated on this table in three months.   So many piles and containers filled with papers, school stuff, who knows what?!   How have I gone three months and not seen this mess?!   OK, let’s back up, regroup…notes, notes where might you be?     It was clear I was not going to find any notes in that mess quickly, only one thing to do, clean up the mess, go through everything piece by...

REPOST from August 23, 2013 I have written on my blog about the heroism of and my admiration for the Organized Child's godfather.  I was in awe as I learned even more about his bravery and heroism at his funeral.  I had an admiration (and still do) for the Godfather be cause of his patriotism and devotion as a man, father, grandfather and soldier.  However, I am ashamed of my lack of admiration for another man who deserved it just as much as The Godfather did. For years growing up I heard the story of my grandfather's heroism, but that's all it was, a story.  A story that went along with a picture of a handsome, young, man that hung on the wall. The story was never quite clear and seemed to have a few variations.  I knew that he had died saving some men in a fire.  What I took away from the story was the devastation and pain it had caused my grandmother, aunts and mother because he had died. After my grandmother died I l...

When I was little probably five or six, I took ballet lessons along with my friend that lived across the street from me.   To be honest I don’t remember a whole lot about the lessons themselves.   What I do remember is the recital we had.   This is probably because of the two 8 x 10 pictures, featuring the group of us little girls, in our costumes, in my baby book.   (I just went looking to see the pictures and verify there weren’t more photos.   When my parents moved into their motorhome I was sure my mom gave me my childhood photo albums, but if she did I don’t know what I did with them.   So, note to self, check with mom about photo albums.) Anyway, what I remember is being able to wear make-up, and getting to dress up in costumes.   We must have had two numbers that we performed because we were all wearing two different costumes in the pictures.   In one of the pictures we are all wearing pretty, royal blue, sequined ballet costumes. ...

There are several Mom Parodies using the “Let It Go” song going around right now.   Some of them are hysterical.   This one in particular brought tears to my eyes .       In the beginning she sings of aggravation and the day to day stuff mom’s deal with, dirty socks, laundry, fighting, tantrums, trash etc.   However in the end she nails it!   The lines that got me, put the lump in my throat and the tears in my eyes…. let it go let it go I just have to keep my calm let it go let it go cause I’m their only mom here I stand and here I’ll say cause I’m their mom that stuff never bothered me anyway Wow!   It hit me like a ton of bricks because I very rarely keep my calm and all that stuff usually bothers me a lot!   I’m working on letting go VERY slowly, at a snail’s pace.   I wish I was mastering it at Turbo’s pace, but not the case.       The line that reall...

    This will be the first Mother’s Day without my mother-in-law Lynda Allen.   She went home to be with the Lord on Black Friday last year, a truly black day for our family.   In honor of my mother-in-law I thought I would share my eulogy with you. December 6, 2013 - Over the past week, preparing for this funeral I have learned a lot about the woman that raised my husband.   Part of me is sad because I didn’t learn about these things while she was alive, but another part of me knows it’s because in many ways Lynda was a very private person and didn’t share much of her past with us.   So, let me tell you a little bit of what I learned about the woman I called Mom A. Lynda was born in Chicago, Illinois on Jan. 20, 1925 she was one of 5 children.   Her mother Susan was born in Poland and came to America when she was 17.   Her father Jim, was American born, of polish descent.   Lynda grew up in the Chicago area and had a happ...