Rocks in your Back Pack

I often find myself running a concern through one of my sons,  Michael Jr. While he is not a practicing attorney, his law school education truly taught him invaluable critical thinking skills.  As a result, when faced with a problem, he   “nets things out” basing his opinion on facts not emotions,  quickly gets to the bottom line of what needs to be done, and takes action. He is a tremendous resource for me especially since I do not have even a glimmer of that skill set.

My lack of critical thinking skills also describes  one of my clients,  a young woman struggling to get her life on an even keel.  We spend considerable time on the phone going over what she wishes to change to improve her life, yet something happens from the point of our agreed upon plan on the phone to actual execution of the plan. More specifically, there is no execution. I shared with Michael my  frustration with her lack of progress and my lack of success with her, and he said quickly and simply,

“Some people add rocks to your back pack.”

Interesting, I thought. Yes, some people make our lives more difficult, more cumbersome, actually heavier. We can attempt to work with them carefully so that they create a plan they are comfortable with, but we cannot make them follow the plan.  Maybe for them just having someone to listen to their plight gets them though the immediate struggle and that is enough. I will continue to be there to listen and will have to recognize my limitations to do much more.

We can all think of one or more people in our lives who “add rocks to our back pack”, but all of a sudden I am questioning if I  add rocks to someone else’s back pack. I will give that more thought. I do not want to add weight to anyone’s life with my own concerns about the chaos in the world, with my anxiety about traveling, or my increasing concern about the aging process. Women with high successtrogen use critical thinking skills to resolve their own worries and concerns, and rather than just complain, they seek the resource they need to resolve their own  issue.

How about you, are you weighed down by the rocks someone else has handed you? Oh and by the way, are  you in any way adding weight to someone else’s back pack?



Slow Your Roll


Over Easter break, my daughter-in-law, Lisa, and I took her youngest daughter, Eliza, to American Girl in NYC. To any of you who have never experienced it, the store is a little girl’s dream.  Thousands of dolls dressed in haute couture are carefully arranged as though they were real children in the park, at a birthday party, or on a camping trip.  One wouldn’t dare bring a little girl here just to “window shop”.   Once a visit to this store is on your calendar, you have committed to purchasing an over-priced, yet impeccably dressed  doll.  While Eliza already had many American Girl dolls at home, she was excited to be getting a new one. Together, we spent an unusual amount of time reviewing all the new dolls and their personal stories, and selecting just the right one.

As if picking out a new doll weren’t enough of a treat,  we had reservations for brunch at the American Girl cafe.  While the decor is as you would expect, girly, very pink and sweet, the food is clearly an opportunity for improvement. What was spent on brunch could have fed many families in a struggling community.  I am not sure why this organization known for its exquisite life-like dolls cannot make a decent pancake1 But they cannot, they just can not.

While waiting on-line  for brunch outside the Cafe, I noticed a little girl clinging to her new American Girl doll, Gabrielle, one of my personal favorites.  The child begged her mom for a second doll.  Her mother explained that the child should be grateful for the one she was holding.  But as children often do, the child opted to push her luck and hopefully wear her mother down. “Pleeeeze, pleeeeze mommy.  Gabriella needs a friend to go home with!  Who is Gabrielle going to play with? Why can’t I have two dolls? Pleeeeze, mommy!”  While I was getting irritated by the whining, the mom was not at all rattled or influenced.  Instead she offered in a very quiet voice,

“Slow your roll. Slow your roll.”

I had not heard that phrase before but it stuck with me.  “Slow your roll.”  In just three little softly spoken words, the mom said:  “Stop your whining, it’s getting annoying”, “Stop carrying on and on”,  “Enjoy your new Gabrielle doll”, “I said no and I meant no”.  I liked what I heard…“Slow your roll.”

The phrase applies to me as well.  I need to slow my roll sometimes. as my behavior  can be out of control.  For example,  while shopping  online I might stumble upon a new style of Tom’s, and begin ordering the same shoe in navy, white, and black.  I need to slow my roll, order one pair, and  test them out before ordering them in every possible color.   When I am at the airport, once I locate my gate, I immediate go to Hudson News and get not one snack for the flight but two or sometimes three!

Still other times I worry about something, and I continue to go over and over it creating a much bigger scenario than actually exists…again, I need to slow my roll. Women with high SUCCESSTROGEN are not out of control with their shopping habits, behaviors, or their worries.  While the American Girl organization should improve the quality of their brunch, more important,  I need to slow my roll, be less reactive and less impulsive.

Just as I was about to tell the mom how much I liked the phrase, “slow your roll”, we were told that brunch was ready.  While Eliza was excited  I knew we were about to experience  the worst and most unappealing pancakes on the face of the earth because I had gone with her older sisters years ago.  But before I get carried away about just how awful and overpriced the brunch is, I think I will slow my roll and stop here.

Where are the opportunities for you to “slow your roll” in your life, so that you are less impulsive, make better and more informed, well thought out decisions ????


The Excitement of a Snow Day

Last Thursday someone mentioned we might have a snow storm headed our way.  I felt myself getting excited about the prediction. Over the weekend,  I found myself looking at several weather channels to fully understand what was about to happen. The weather reports are not always accurate, so I like to hear several weather reporters to see if they are all seeing the same thing. They were!  And now by Sunday evening reports were not about a few inches of snow, now we were talking of some real accumulations!  As a matter of fact they bantered around the term  “Nor E-easter”!!

I immediately googled  nor easter to get a good look at what I hoped was coming…something that every child wishes for when she hears this kind of weather warning, a SNOW DAY!!  My heart was pumping . Talk of the impending nor easterner took front stage on the news channels, even my Amazon Echo concurred! No one was talking about some dumb Trump tweet, or the latest Hollywood divorce–it was all about this huge snowstorm.

Yes! Finally it was here, a day where I could hang out in my pjs all day long and drink hot chocolate, and read and maybe watch a movie on Netflix. And then the absurdity of it all struck me:  I am retired. I can hang out in my pjs and drink hot chocolate, or read, or watch a movie any day at all, regardless of the weather.

The fact that I was so revved up about just hanging out sent a very clear message to me. I am always doing…fun things, good things, obligatory things, nice things, social things but I rarely, almost never  “just hang out”  with me. While I have made many changes in my life, I have yet to learn to enjoy being with just me, in pjs, with a good book.  I read all the time, sometimes all night long, but always with the purpose of learning something I didn’t already know.   But rarely do I just read a book to just delve into the imaginary world of the characters and the setting and just become part of the scene the author has created for me.

Women with high SUCCESSTROGEN are better than me at relaxing, at “not doing” and at reflecting by themselves. As a matter of fact, it is one way they refresh and re-energize themselves.  They know when they need to and they do not wait for a snow day to do so. It is time for me to work on still another needed change in my life, to enjoy spending some quiet time with just me.

Care to join me?  I do not mean together of course as that would not reflect any change for me! I meant, care to join me and enjoy your own alone time?


Apple and the Tree

Lots of things make me smile.  Surely a warm, sunny day is at the top of my list as well as watching my grandchildren in a school performance or competing on a school team.  When my daughter Shannon and I laugh out loud about the absurdities of life, I smile for hours later. When someone from years ago emails me and says thank you, I smile as I recall how long it took me to win that person’s trust.    And, then, what also makes me smile is when I witness an old axiom  right in front of my eyes.

I have many favorite adages that I live by, such as “a stitch in time saves nine”, and “bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.” Unfortunately I have never lived by the old adage, “dollar saved is a dollar earned”!!!

One of my favorites, is …

“the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,”

and this is the one I recently experienced with sheer delight.

This past Christmas holiday  our entire family was together, with the exception of one grandson who plays for the Kenyan College basketball team. On a given day we all went to my son’s office, a huge open space where we could all play Corn Hole, Ping Pong, run around and play hide and seek, and hang out with pizza and soda.  Noticing the absence of two grand daughters in these activities, I quietly sneaked around to see what they were up to.  Expecting to find them raiding the cabinet abundant with snacks or the refrigerator with the soft drinks, I went there first. No site of the two girls.

As I turned around the corner, I heard someone on the phone, and there they were in an office sitting at desks talking to “customers” on the phone, selling their pet care services.  I learned later that they had both current and potential clients they were calling, obviously well aware that a good business keeps in touch with current clients for repeat business and consistently reaches out to add to the client base.  I had a quick flashback of the times as a child that I too played office, in my grandpa’s store with phones and cash registers. And my favorite old adage was right there in front of me,

“the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

Mae declared herself the Chief Marketing Officer because of her excellent telephone skills, and Eliza self-appointed herself as CEO, boss of everyone. And so it was. And so I am happy that the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.






A Valuable Sweaty Headband

Last night my son gave me his four court side tickets to the Wizzards VS Bucks game. I couldn’t think of anyone more fun to take than my three grandchildren so we bundled up and Ubered to the Verizon Center. Before the game, the kids tried to educate me on their favorite players:  Bradley Beal, John Wall,  and Otto Porter were the names pronounced ever so carefully to ensure I would learn them and cheer for them, too.

Diehard Wizzard fans that they are, my grandchildren also admitted to liking one of the Milwaukee Bucks players, Jason Terry.  They called out his name every chance they got to get his attention.  At the end of the game Jason Terry came over to “high-five” the kids. He immediately zoomed to the top of their favorite player list  when he  gave them  a head band and towel. The kids were delirious with these gifts, worn, sweaty and I might add, smelly . They hung on to them for their dear lives. There was no question that the kids placed a high value on these things.

I was well aware of how cool it was to capture the moment with these mementoes but I was also well aware that one day, their value would greatly diminish.  Because that’s what happens as we grow and change. I wondered what would one day take the place of the revered sweaty headband from a favorite NBA star.   Surely in my own life as a child I valued a favorite doll, until I outgrew her. Then my most valued thing was a Teen Queens album featuring “Eddie my Love”, (written about me and my high school boy friend, Eddie Lillis), and then that was replaced by my wedding band, a symbol of  love that was to last me a lifetime.  Sadly, even the wedding band lost its value one day and was replaced by a simple photo of my grandpa Esposito standing in front of the market he created, where I spent a good deal of my childhood.

I have written often of how many once valued treasures I have either lost or given away as they became less important, less valuable to me: my Santa collection, mementoes from my many international trips, a menu from The Chinese Laundry in Napa Valley, and my favorite-ever chandelier to name just a few.

As I glance around my new condo,  there is truly no one object that I value so highly that I would be heartbroken if it were to break or all of a sudden be missing.  What I value that cannot be broken or stolen, is those experiences and relationships that exist in my heart and soul:  my faith and my family and friends, whom I treasure far beyond any one or combination of valuable things that have passed through my hands over the years. My time with my grandchildren has become my very top thing I value so taking them to the Wizzard game is one of those experiences that will remain in my heart as a favorite time forever.

For right now, the sweaty headband, has tremendous value. But one day it will be relegated to a junk drawer  with other once revered objects, in favor of a photo of a new boyfriend, an acceptance letter into the college of my grandchild’s choice, or maybe even a photo of our time together at the Wizzards VS Bucks game.


A Christmas Poem

I sense a feeling in the air, so it must be time

To send my annual Christmas rhyme.

Almost thirty years ago I wrote a poem to share

My holiday thoughts with friends everywhere.

I moved to Bethesda this year, mid summer

Leaving my Sarasota friends was quite a bummer!

But here at The Darcy I have come to see

That Bethesda is truly where I wish to be.

Two children live in town, a daughter and a son,

The others live in NY, Philly, and Rumson.

Together with 12 grandchildren they are my reason to be

It doesn’t get better than spending time with family!

So this very December I offer this thought,

In the event that the election has you feeling distraught,

Let’s respect one another, and welcome all others,

Can’t fix America alone, not without our sisters and brothers!

I wish you good health and a whole lot of laughter

Energy to reach your goals, whatever you’re after.

My newest revelation is to wish you “just enough”

This move has taught me to value getting rid of stuff.

Merry Christmas! Happy Chanukah! The best to each of you!

If I haven’t yet met you, please know I plan to.

Happy New Year to each and every one of you

I hope that you find your WHY in all that you do.

I have to end now, there is so much to do,

Gifts for the grandchildren and baking too

Please remember to be kind and offer others a hand

And smile and bring joy all over this great land.

Mary Ann

Christmas 2016

A Three Minute Boundary


In September we celebrated the life of Michael O’Neil, Sr, my former spouse of 32 years, and best friend of 49 years.  It was fitting for me to give the eulogy. My dear Catholic Church that doesn’t really know me at all,  permitted  me a whopping three minutes to wrap up what Michael meant to me!   The Church no longer allows a lay person to give a eulogy during the Mass, so prior to the Mass I had  three minutes to tell the world that Michael swept me off my feet many years ago and saved me from what could have been a most ordinary life, and that he knew I was smart, although my college grades did not indicate that.  He knew I was creative although  I rarely engaged in creative activities. He taught me how to parent, how to be a good friend, how to start a business of my own, and most important, how to give because others needed.

Being a rule follower, I of course kept within the three-minute time frame. I had rehearsed the eulogy a number of times (and moaned about being limited to only 3 minutes) to ensure I stayed within the rules. Funny, as I looked over the congregation, not a person moved, all eyes were on me, and when I completed the eulogy, the crowd applauded.  I took that to mean they got the message, only three minutes yet they got it.  There has to be something said for the three-minute talk, rather than a rambling 40 minute attempt at capturing the deceased person’s life. When pushed to a 3 minute time frame, I had to choose just the right words, there was no room for extra adjectives, ramblings or repetition.

Surely there are other times when I take far more time than necessary to make a point, to complete a task, or to teach a concept.  (You might want to interject here  that sometimes my blogs go on too long!).  Women with high SUCCESSTROGEN are succinct, taking just the right amount of time needed for things. They do not stretch things out, or beat around the bush until they bring home a point. They know what the point is and they make it. I have room for growth here and will continue to work on being  to the point, capturing my listener and holding her attention, then giving her time to draw her own application.

Thank you Catholic Church for the boundaries you provided that enabled me to deliver a message about Mike that truly captured his time on earth. The time boundary forced me to be precise and to the point. When the parishioners left the church  that morning, they knew the essence of Mike, that he gave not out of convenience but because another was in need. And when I left the church that morning, I had more respect for the three-minute boundary.