Just like the Dodo bird.

I think I'm one of a dying breed. A woman who has chosen to stay home, wear kitten heels and an apron while vacumming and have a steaming hot dinner on the table when Husband comes home from a day at the office. I guess it's not quite like that.

Yes, I am a stay-at-home wife and mother, but I'm a long ways off from being a 50's housewife. I'm not perfect, I'm easily distracted and I'd live in my PJs if i didn't have this nagging feeling in the back of my head that it would put me on a spiraling path to leaving the house in jeans and a bathrobe. I'm terrible at gardening, mainly because I don't like bugs. I'm an excellent baker and a pretty good cook, though I'm a picky eater and don't eat half of what I make. I'd rather make jam than clean the house but I'm definitely happier when the dust rhinos are no longer taking over the house (I'm pretty sure they are headquartered under the bed). My brain is usually in the clouds, dreaming up new business ideas, new ventures and new ways to make money from the comfort of the couch. I have an amazing baby that slept through the night at 6 weeks, yet I still sigh if she wakes up "in the middle of the night" (before 6).

My dreams are simple. I want people to come into my house and feel welcomed and special and loved. I want the house to smell like freshly baked cookies and cinnamon, and sound like laughter. I want Girl to grow up loving herself and those around her (with a good measure of brilliance thrown in) and realistically, all this can happen even if I don't move stuff off the mantle before dusting it.