Last night, as I was putting the girls to bed, I picked up a dolly off the ground and handed it to Lexi. She cuddled it immediately and gave the plastic, bald headed dolly a few loving strokes. I could see Lily eyeballing the love fest from across the room.

Lily: Mom, I think that's my dolly.

Me: Oh man, I can never keep your dollies straight. Sorry Lil.

Lily: That's okay. But mom, I think you need to put your brains in.

Me: Great idea! If you can find them for me, I'll get right on that.

She looked over to the nightstand and spotted her favorite Brobee figurine.

Lily: I think Brobee has them.

She grabbed miniature Brobee, made a few sound effects with concurrent hand gestures as if she was performing robotic surgery on the green figurine and then deliberately walked back to me, drilled an imaginary hole in my head and returned the brains I have been missing since getting knocked up in 2005.

Many thanks to my little Lily and to the glow-stick-carrying-ravers creators of Yo Gabba Gabba for bringing back my brains. I have seriously been missing them for a long time.

We'll know if it worked if I can remember to get the clothes out of the drier or to shave my legs before my date night.

Somehow I doubt it.

I had high hopes of posting PART II of How Wayne Brady and "The Secret" Conspired to Make Me a Stay At Home Mom, however, the past 24 hours have been a little nutty.

Yesterday morning I took the kids to LEGOLAND, our favorite local kids' spot, where I almost got in a mombrawl with another mom who didn't reprimand her son after he bullied Lily and then kneed her in the back, with full force, causing her to go careening down the slide. Though I was mad as hell at the little boy, I was insanely livid with his mom who was nowhere to be found at first and then once she learned of the situation from another mom, did nothing about it. She didn't even apologize for him.

In those situations I really wish I was quick on my feet with something brilliant and biting, like "Is that really the lesson you want to be teaching your kids?" (I got that one from Ooph)

But instead I clam up because my words get all tangled in my flusterediness and the only words that come easy are those of the four letter kind that would not be appropriate or mature, so I just say nothing. But I do shoot wicked daggers with me eyes; that I am good at.

Then during the kids' naps, my usual blog writing time, I was busy doing this video, proving to the world that I am the LAMEST DORK BIGGEST GLEEK.

Then I went to "book club" and learned way more about the art of performing paps and rectal exams from my PA/NP friends than I ever needed to know. Apparently foot funk can be almost as bad as the odor down under, so their advice (besides be sure to bathe--you'd be surprised): wear socks next time your saddling up in those stirrups.

I also learned that Pluto is no longer a planet and that drinking epson salts will make you poop for days. We may not read books but we talk about highly intellectual topics.

My favorite quote of the night..."For Valentine's day, my husband took me to the Gun Show."

At first I laughed thinking she was using the term "gun show" as in the Urban Dictionary definition, meaning he showed off his biceps and flexed for her in a provocative, sexy sort of way. But nope, they actually went to a real NRA sponsored gun show. Our collective next questions were, "who holds a gun show on Valentine's Day?" and then "who GOES to a Gun Show on Valentine's Day?" But there was no judging, I mean many people certainly wonder who choses to make a rap video on Valentine's day. To each his own. When we learned that she had walked away from the ammo-rific event with a stun gun and a camo skirt we all threw some high fives and said, "well played girl, well played."

Then this morning came around, WAY too quickly, and after rushing Lily to school in the mismatched outfit she picked out and her hair all disheveled, I stopped dead in my tracks when reading the ENORMOUS reminder on the school's front door -- TODAY IS PICTURE DAY. Oh Crap! I exclaimed, forgetting to sensor myself. So we ran home, grabbed the adorable matching rompers that I just bought at Target for $5.00 each and ran back to school. After changing them and brushing their hair, they looked ridiculously cute. I let the photographer take them to the cheezy park photo backdrop to work her professional photographer magic and I sat back thinking about the precious pix I was going to be able to frame for my family.

And then, Lexi, my 1.75 yo, had a melt down of epic proportions. "No, I don't wanna sit down," she yelled at the photographer, after throwing the fake fuschia flowers at her face.

Enter crisis management mommy:

"Here Lexi, here's a teddy bear, look at the cute teddy."

"No!  I don't want to!"

"Lexi, look at your cute outfit. You and Lily are matching, can you sit with Lily?"

"No!  I don't want to!"

"Do you want a lollipop Lexi? I'll give you a lollipop."

"No!  I don't want to!"

Then, as I threw my hands up in frustration and bent down to pick up Lexi, my slightly cloudy, PMSing brain made me say, "Oh Mothah!"

I though it was under my breath. But it wasn't. It was loud. Loud enough for the photographer, both my kids, the Center Director and 4 other kids to hear. Nice work Mama Mary!

That was a really LONG way to tell you that Part II of my favorite story of all time will have to wait for another day. Happy Friday!

Oh, and if you haven't already, would you be so kind as to vote for me HERE. The Mama Mary Show has been nominated for Best in Lifestyle at influenceSD (which should be best mom ever as apparent by this post). Just click the gray arrow by my avatar and watch it turn green. Only one vote per person, though you can also vote for others in the same category. There are some awesome other mamas that are up too, so be sure to check them out as well. Or just vote for me, whatever.