Confessions of a Housewife

As homeschooling starts up again after our summer break, I find myself with very little free time--five minutes here, five minutes there. I'm sure there are women who would never fritter away five minutes, but I'm finding pleasure in a few indulgences--even some slightly suspect for the stay-at-home mom! For those husbands and devoted career women who wonder what we housewives do all day, here's an idea:

Guilty Pleasure #1: Played five minutes of Max Adrenalin at gamesgames.com.

Guilty Pleasure #2: Chatted to younger sister about "boyfriend t-shirts" on sale at Old Navy.

Guilty Pleasure #3: Savored three bites of cookie dough and an ice cold cup of Diet Coke.

Guilty Pleasure #4: Got down to "Mercy" by Duffy while preparing a snack for the boys.

Guilty Pleasure #5: Wrote this blog post.

What do you do with five minutes?

The Darndest Things

Seven-year-old calling out from the bathroom where he has been planted for the last 20 minutes: "I wish I were a king, then I could command everyone to wipe me."

Brings new meaning to the term "throne."

In Medias Res

Creating this blog has been angst-ridden for me, the uptight perfectionist. First, the choosing of a template and the arranging of elements. Now, the "first" post! How to begin? An essay of philosophical rhetoric about the importance of journaling? Nope! I'm just gonna dive "into the midst of affairs" -- in medias res . . .

We're potty-training a 3-year-old. (I should confess he turns 4 in a week.) We are doing great--except for the poop. If I knew how to add one of those little counters on my sidebar, I'd keep a tally of how many poops I've cleaned up since we began. He does seem to make his deposits in the same place outside every day; if he were a dog, I'd be satisfied.