Since becoming a stay-at-home mom four years ago, I am often asked what I do all day. Sometimes I have no words to fully describe the experience. After all, anyone  absurd enough to ask such a question couldn’t comprehend the answer anyway. (News flash. Parenthood. It’s tough.)

Other days I have approximately three hundred and eleven. Today was one of the latter.

For the past three days, Lou has been begging to wear her Halloween costume. Because I’m such a lazy amazing mom, this morning I finally gave in.

Come on, isn’t she adorable?! I love this girl!

The kids didn’t want to leave the house (hidden blessing) or do much of anything today. Instead, they happily played beside me while I worked. As I glance up from my computer, I noticed Lou, still in her flower costume, sunning herself in a warm shaft of light coming in through the window. It was so beautiful and perfect that I nearly cried.

“This is the moment…” I thought. “This is the moment when being home with my children—witnessing their daily joys and discoveries, indulging their whims and fancies because… well, why not? The day is ours!”

Being a stay-at-home mom can be the most gratifying, heart-bursting, sublime joy I think I could ever experience. Even though I made the switch to work-at-home mom late last year, I still get to have the little moments. The best of both worlds, right?

Lou caught my gaze and ran into my arms. As I picked her up, I felt a wet spot on her leg. I assumed the kids had just been splashing water or spilled some juice somewhere in the house until I noticed a trail of “dewdrops” leading to the spot where Lou was sitting… and then a puddle.

She had apparently Houdini-ed her way out of her diaper while still zipped IN her costume…

I whipped her out of her costume and into the bath, because yes, I’ve done this drill several times before… Meanwhile I told Scout to just stay in one place until I could clean up the mess.

When I returned from drying and redressing Lou, I found Scout perched on top of my desk. I proceeded to mop the floor as he literally oversaw the process, commenting on all the places I had “missed”…

My life is a fairytale, but some times it feels more like Cinderella before the ball than the happy ending. Not that I ever get to finish reading anything…

Today, Scout have a huge fit because the DVR wasn’t recording “The Cat in the Hat” fast enough. I was so aggravated that busted out with, “When I was your age, we had to watch what was on TV when it was on TV. And if we missed a show, it was NO. BIG. DEAL.”

This outburst was met with bewildered stares.

It is an immutable fact that each generation is progressively more spoiled than the last. It was also an immutable fact that the current generation will lack the basis for realizing this and just think you’re crazy.

Friday night, I wept through the final season opening for Friday Night Lights– partly because it makes me homesick for Texas and partly because this show is SO VERY GOOD!

Saturday night, I baked a pecan pie from scratch. Naturally.

The recipe came from Real Simple’s November issue and sure enough, it was super simple to make. It was my first attempt at making a pie and, if I may say so myself, it also turned out SO VERY GOOD!

I may have to do this again next Friday night, because nothing cures homesickness like PIE… so long as you pronounce it pa-KHAN.