Waking The Dead...(GREAT Movie for Cathartic Grieving)

“You can shed tears that he is gone,
or you can smile because he has lived.


You can close your eyes and pray that he'll come back,
or you can open your eyes and see all he's left.


Your heart can be empty because you can't see him,
or you can be full of the love you shared.


You can turn your back on tomorrow and live yesterday,
or you can be happy for tomorrow because of yesterday.


You can remember him only that he is gone,
or you can cherish his memory and let it live on.


You can cry and close your mind,
be empty and turn your back.


Or you can do what he'd want:
smile, open your eyes, love and go on.”

~David Harkins, British Poet

That is an accurate summation of the inner dialogue I play tug-of-war with DAILY, following my dad's death in late July.  It's safe to say: I'm no longer the life of the party.

I apologize to my readers for shutting you out as I continue grieving for the only man who has ever loved me unconditionally.  It's been a dramatic six months.  I'll repeat that statement, again, in case you missed it--It's been a DRAMATIC six months.

I've come to the conclusion that: Drama + Mary = Two Peas in a Pod.  A pod that is crowding me and threatening to overshadow the real pain that MUST rear its head in order to find closure and heal properly).

Regardless if you join this ride of self-discovery, I hope you'll be able to find the humor and hope I am so desperately in need of at this particular junction in my life.  Bottom Line:  When you find yourself having a "bad day," tune in to my blog, grab a cup of joe-or vodka-and enjoy the stories. 

I couldn't make this sh*t up.

Dad gives Sara the Terror his favorite side dish: Grilled Liver!  Ewwww.

Even worse?  Homegirl LOVED it!

Oral Fixations and Other Obsessions

[Trying to get 4-year old Kenny to give up his security blanket]


Jack Butler: "I understand that you little guys start out with your woobies and you think they're great... and they are, they are terrific. But pretty soon, a woobie isn't enough. You're out on the street trying to score an electric blanket, or maybe a quilt. And the next thing you know, you're strung out on bedspreads Ken. That's serious."


I have an arsenal of movie lines I LOVE from this 1983 classic, "Mr. Mom" - but as I try and wean my girls of different security vices, including Josephine's blanket (a.k.a. her "D") made of soft, pink silk which she lovingly and sometimes obsessively demands as soon as I pick her up in the afternoon from school - I am beyond exhausted and don't want our remaining few hours before bedtime to be filled with misery and inconsistencies...mostly on my end...Mother of the Year, I know:(

But honestly, her eyes seem riddled with anxiety until she is able to clutch that soft material and hold it close to her cheek, fingering the soft edges in a zen-like fashion; exhaling slowly--her body visibly relaxing.   Kind of scares mommy to see the dependency in her three-year-old daughter's eyes.

Dare I share my indifference towards other mothers whom, even as bystanders, seem comfortable offering unsolicited advice by drawing from their own successful ventures as mothers who weathered the storms of toddler-hood.

"My (insert child's name) got ride of her blanket at eight months!"..."We threatened to take away their toys for a month, worked like a charm!..."Just tell her she is a big girl.  In fact, she is a big girl.  Literally.  What are you feeding her?"

All this unsolicited advice and I can't help thinking, "When you're a single mom, who is hands on and giving 110 percent of energy towards a career and then towards two adorable, and a bit manipulative, little girls while trying to squeeze in dinner, laundry and keeping up with bills and a tidy home...then explain how your were able to take away the one object your 3-year old holds dear to her heart and soul...I double-dog dare you...

Oh well, things could be worse.  I could have gained 12 pounds in six weeks while partying with my boys, Ben and Jerry...Oh wait...I did gain 12 pounds by eating their array of pint sized heart-attack-waiting-to-happen pints of ice cream!  Curses...A girls gotta live - right?

.                                                     Josie asleep with her "must-haves."

Introducing My New Feature: Random Movie Lines With Mary

I've always felt that certain people can be gauged on a level from 0 to 12.52 based on both the movies they watch and the scenes they find as emotionally compelling - or comedic - as I do.


During my post film-school dating years, I wouldn't look twice at a guy who didn't appreciate the comical genius of the Cohen Brothers "Raising Arizona." In hindsight, my taste in movies proved to better than my taste in men.

I know many people will relate to some of these and MAYBE, just maybe, they will become enlightened and intrigued enough to check out some oldies, but goodies they weren't interested in BMB (before my blog). That sounded quite harsh and a bit superior, no? As if my blog could change people's lives. Muwahahahah.



If fitting, the movie lines I post will pose as some parallel reference I'm experiencing in my life - while sharing some of my most beloved dialogue created to emote feelings we sometimes never realized we had until seeing "that" movie...Ah, the power of good filmmaking. I'm sure glad I majored in it. It's done a world of good for my career *insert sarcasm.*




Movie:  "Office Space"  (Definitely ranks on the top ten list...)

Bob Slydell: What would you say ya do here?

Tom Smykowski: Well look, I already told you! I deal with the goddamn customers so the engineers don't have to! I have people skills! I am good at dealing with people! Can't you understand that? What the hell is wrong with you people?

HQ ~ SWAGGER WAGON ~ MINIVAN RAP ~

It's The Hard Knock Life...For Us?

On a recent trip to our local grocery store, girls-in-tow (of course!), the trip was filled with "the usual" chaos: Josie wanting to walk instead of ride complacently in the shopping cart, which usually is the beginning of the end of what could have been a journey of wonderment and surprise, discovering new sights and smells among the aisles of Wal-Tart.

Between the free-for-all grab fest on my end as I watch the girls tear thru the aisles, it becomes increasingly clear that I am losing control of the situation. How can I get these two angelic partners-in-crime to mind me? And as if God was showing me the answer I so desperately sought, I just happened to view a stepford wife in the check-out line, smiling peacefully as her pristine looking brood of four stood silently beside her.

Making sure Josie and Sara hadn't torn down the entire junior rack of clothing, I do what I do best: Ask questions w/o the fear of feeling ridiculed. "Wow. You're kids are SO well-behaved. How do you do it?"

As I took in a more detailed glance, each child was holding a small treasure in his/her hand. Chocolate bar, Barbie and the smallest two had dvd's, clutched tight to thir chests.

"Bribery." She answered, smiling knowlingly at me.

Hence, the movie "Annie" was purchased due to good behavuor. Sara mow wants a new dog called "Sandy" and sings "It's The Hard Knock Life" on que. I've begun to join in, although our choreography needs some work.

The Hills Are Alive....

...With The Sound of Mary's Fresh Faaaaaccceee... That's right my friends, I was on the receiving end of what had to be one of the most AMAZING hours of my life. My First Facial. If I was 12 and texting, I would just use "OMG! MFF!!" The again, guess that could go either way:) All I know is that my skin is "dewy" - and "dewy agrees with my skin. Now, if I could just get rid of those triple D breasts, I'd have a perfect view from the top. (pun intended). In all honesty, my mom almost had to push me out the door to go to our local spa (www.thymedayspa.com)as I usually prohibit taking care of myself in such frivolous ways. There are many times I could kick myself for not arguing for a higher salary "grade." Not too mention when I argued my case for a higher salary grade after returning to the work force, had I known child support would not be part of my monthly income, different measures would have been taken:) Oh well, a day late and a dollar (more like $43K) short. At least I have my sweet, rambunctious beautiful little ladies. "Lady" might be a stretch for Sara - she was heard using the "s" word at her parochial school on Friday. I banned cable over six months ago. I am desperate for advice on how to handle this situation and look forward to replies. She KNOWS it's a bad word. Ive even washed her mouth out with soap (which Josie found partially goodtasting - a real shocker.) As most people know, I am very open and approachable, and I am certainly not one to turn a blind eye if my children are acting up. Have you ever had a night when you got home from a grueling week of work, the house is around 36% clean, yet you just remembered you need to buy diapers or your daughter's bed will be flooded by the yellow sea. It is at times like these, that I wish I had a "partner" to tag team. Or a nanny to pay to get something that seems small out of the way, but in my household, it would be a major production to drive up to the local grocer. Did I just use the word grocer? God, I'm getting old. Quote of the Day:

Every sweet has its sour; every evil its good. - Ralph Waldo Emerson, 1803-1882

What do Snakes, Staph and Turbo Tax Have in Common?

They have caused Mommy to panic. Bigtime. The snake inflicted fear in my three-year old (Josie tinkled on herself as we came face to face with it...in our hallway!) She stood paralyzed, literally shaking with fear. This fight or flight syndrome and crippling fear of anything that depicts a reptile, insect amongst other things, has been passed down from many generations on my mother's side. Not to mention the girls and I have NEVER seen a snake in our lives, aside from those that seem relatively complacent behind the glass wall at the zoo. Staph has caused misery for my babies...and me. Dispensing meds to a screaming, back-arching kick-inducing three year old hasn't been a picnic. The sweet little pumkin head finally had to have the doctors "lance" (cut it open). I won't go into the gory details, but let me put it this way. Even our seasoned pediatrician was taken aback when he saw what was hiding under that red, hard skin...It was a blood bath that I wouldn't wish on anyone. But it had to be done... And then there is the $59.95 I paid to Turbo Tax (like I have time to calculate my deductions and everything else financially above my head). Turbo Tax assured me I would receive close to $6200 back...finally, good news! I merrily planned how I could use this "bonus" from the government; school registration fees ($1300!!!), new tires on my minivan and the rest towards medical bills. A blessing indeed... Cut to April 23, date of alledged direct deposit. $1569. WTH? Are you kidding me? Apparently IRS call centers are not the most jovial folks to deal with (before, during and after tax season). In the end, it was faulted by Turbo Tax, and I would receive the $1300. At least day care registration will be paid for. Whoo-Hoo! Living the dream baby!