By Wendy Pierman Mitzel ~~~~~~~~~
“A Ball? A Benefit Ball!... Of course I want to go to a Ball!”
Count me in for a social soiree anytime. And even better, help support a friend.
Just a few minor details to take care of.
Who will take child #1 to dance?
Phone call to fellow dance mom.
“Help?”
How will #2 get to the baseball game?
Call ex-husband.
“Help?”
Okay, check, now onto the next thing.
A doctor’s appointment.
An errand to run.
No problem, I got this. Look lots of time.
Now, to the dress.
It’s a conservative crowd.
Cancel out most options as winter or too boho and I’m left with the red dress.
Maybe not that one, it stands out in a crowd.
Quick, two hours to go and I need a fairy godmother.
Call fashionable friend with lots of clothes and jewels.
“Help?”
Fashionable friend is on the case but has lent most dresses to working friend, who is not at home but after panicky phone call has generously allowed us to enter home and expansive closet to attack dresses with abandon.
First must pass confused teenage son of working friend who stares at the two car parade pulling into the driveway and women on the move rushing into house past over-friendly Read more... If Cinderella had been a 40-year-old divorced mother of four….
By Wendy Pierman Mitzel ~~~~~~~~~
“A Ball? A Benefit Ball!... Of course I want to go to a Ball!”
Count me in for a social soiree anytime. And even better, help support a friend.
Just a few minor details to take care of.
Who will take child #1 to dance?
Phone call to fellow dance mom.
“Help?”
How will #2 get to the baseball game?
Call ex-husband.
“Help?”
Okay, check, now onto the next thing.
A doctor’s appointment.
An errand to run.
No problem, I got this. Look lots of time.
Now, to the dress.
It’s a conservative crowd.
Cancel out most options as winter or too boho and I’m left with the red dress.
Maybe not that one, it stands out in a crowd.
Quick, two hours to go and I need a fairy godmother.
Call fashionable friend with lots of clothes and jewels.
“Help?”
Fashionable friend is on the case but has lent most dresses to working friend, who is not at home but after panicky phone call has generously allowed us to enter home and expansive closet to attack dresses with abandon.
First must pass confused teenage son of working friend who stares at the two car parade pulling into the driveway and women on the move rushing into house past over-friendly Read more... 
by Wendy Pierman Mitzel
I am a girl with many projects.
Love to start them. Not so good at finishing them.
The beginnings of many novels, short stories and essays germinate on my computer or in the many notebooks scattered about my house.
Baskets with price tags still attached wait to be filled and organized.
The new ceiling fans sit boxed at the ready next to the shelves waiting for hammer and nail.
And inside my head? In there is even worse! I am well aware the state of my physical affairs is a manifestation of my congested cerebrum.
Popping around in there are kernels of ideas. Such as starting a creative center for autism, a place where high functioning kids can go hang out. Then there are the characters from all my novels and short stories. They pace around in that waiting room, muttering and begging for me to pay attention to them. Laying dead center is the long list of boring matters like making doctor appointments and searching for summer camps.
I’ve recently begun to wonder what keeps me from moving forward. A lot of it is just daily life and distractions getting in the way. I spend a lot of time running out for milk and eggs and running