Holy buckets Batman! All crazy on the Western Front…as in OMNISHAMBLES?

Yup.  Got our very own “omnishambles” going on here.

In case you missed it, that’s the Oxford University Press British word of the year.  A humdinger of a word, wouldn’t you say?  And why is it the Brits have all the fun?  The American word of the year?  Gif.  G-i-f.  Really.  As in…graphics interchange format.  Whatever.  I’m going all British on this one (though that really pains me as the Irish blood runs thick in the family.  And the last thing an Irishman–woman in this case–wants is to consider herself a Brit.  But I digress.)

So…omnishambles is defined as “a situation that has been comprehensively mismanaged, characterized by a string of blunders and miscalculations.”

Ooooo-eee that’s harsh.  But let the chips fall where they may.  (Are you getting tired of the hackneyed phrases, cause I’m thinkin’ I should stop using others words and start writing like a big girl.)  Oh!!  That reminds me of the newest ‘quote of the day.’  Ah, but that would make such a great post.  I’ll sit on it a bit and share later.  If I can hold it that long. 

So back to that whole omnishambles of a miscalculated, blundering, comprehensively mismanaged mess of stuff we’ve got going on here.

Where to start?  I really don’t know.  All I do know is that it is the middle of November, I haven’t got the umpteen bazillion items I needed to sell on ebay even close to being listed and will then miss the holiday selling season not to mention the winter clothing season, the puppy is into the tween years and is not remotely close to being trained in any sense of the word, the holidays are fast approaching, the Thanksgiving tree made last year to be used nightly during the month whereby the family writes out gratitudes on cut-out construction paper leaves and applies them to the tree is still rolled up in the Christmas wreath box in the supposedly mouse-proof closet in the garage, there is no snow to speak of and thus the desired family photo for the upcoming Christmas cards yet to be designed and purchased has not actually been taken (due to lack of snow and no pending white stuff in the forecast), and I believe this just might qualify as one of the world’s longest run-on sentences so I better stop and take a breath and restart the train of thought.  However, that’s not the way this old mind works and once the train is derailed (due to stoppage) there’s just no getting it back on track.

And that my dear friends is precisely it in a nutshell.  The reason for the omnishambles that is the present state of being around here.  The train got derailed along about June (sorry mom, but June 13 will be a day that lives in infamy) and just hasn’t been able to be rerailed.  And not that that one single day did it…well, that’s when the derailing occured, but there were a series of events that unfolded–wasn’t that a childrens book series, something like Series of Misfortunate Circumstances?–that resulted in our present day disarray.  I honestly don’t know if I’m coming or going.  In fact, I’ve taken to not unpacking the bag used for toiletries and such..rather it just sits on the bathroom corner cabinet, waiting to be taken on the next trip.  The princess and I went on a short excursion to Laramie today for the Mother and Daughter Sugar Plum Tea (and the Kingdom of Sweets–and they were NOT kidding about that–pure mom’s nightmare as to the insane level of sugar consumed by every girl there in just under 45 minutes…moms’ eyes were bugging out just imagining what the rest of the afternoon was going to look like).   But as usual I digress.  The point I wanted to make was that this was on the heels of returning late last night from the latest veterinary sojourn to Casper, in which roughly 27 bags were taken for 3 days and 2 nights.  The princess daughter remarked once we were in the car that mommy had only taken 1 bag with us to Laramie.  Was that OK?  Did I have everything we needed in that bag? 

Which then started me thinking, as most things are wont to do, that perhaps something is remiss with this picture.  Our life has become a series of packing, then unpacking, then repacking, then unpacking once more, and so on, and so on, and so on.   And she tells five friends, and they tell five friends, and…oh for pity’s sake.  Does anyone else (that was born way before the oldie 80’s) remember that commercial about some hair care product????  Again, I digress.

Back to the packing and unpacking, which is interspersed with some laundry, some floor sweeping, some dish cleaning, occasional plant-watering, etc.  Somewere along the line I have comprehensively mismanaged this situation, replete with blunders and miscalculations.  (Hence, the omnishambles.)

Trying to be mom, homeschooling mom at that, veterinarian, physical therapist and general Betty Homemaker is just not working out so well.  I know, to all on the outside looking in this might seem like a no-brainer.  And you might, at this point, be saying to yourself…”really?  Really Debby?  Really.”  And then sighing and shaking your head in disbelief at my utter lack of common sense at what is and is not practically possible.  Ahhhhhhh…that brings to mind a dear role model of mine.  The inestimable, unflappable, eternally cheerful, practically perfect in every way Mary Poppins. 

OMG we’re back to the Brits.  (Sometimes I just don’t know how I do it…end up where I started in a gigantic, weaving, wobbly circle.)

I think it’s time to visit ebay.  I know I always feel better when I can mark things off the lists I carry around.   

So until the next time, I’ll leave you with this:

supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!

 

About madranchwife

Mother, Mad Ranchwife(as in--at times-- crazy, nutso, loco, off-my-rocker insane), Veterinarian, Physical Therapist, "Liberal, pinko, gay-loving, Subaru-driving Socialist" (as I've been called), proud to be a totally tree-huggin', climate change believin', granola girl environmentalist, ObamaGirl, Pro-Choice (don't even get me started here...), and in my younger days a feminist vegetarian as a result of time spent at CU Boulder (this lasted approximately 14 months, until all the Jimmy Buffett I was listening to caused me to crave a cheeseburger). Now I just get pleasure out of swimming against the stream and ruffling a few feathers here in the wild west state of Wyoming!
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