housewifery.

Years ago, when I'd picture my future self as a mother, I envisioned myself being one of those women who used nap time as an opportunity to cook, bake, clean, exercise and be crafty. You know, things that I never did nor would I be any good at.  However, being a stay at home mom was the exact opposite lifestyle of an international flight attendant, so if I could make that transition... anything was possible. Perhaps one day I'd be that domesticated super-mom that my younger self imagined.

Let's fast forward a few years, shall we? I'm mom to a 5 month old baby and a not quite 2 year old puppy.  I'm married to my best friend, and I'm essentially living the dream. It wasn't my dream... but dreams, like individuals, tend to change over the course of a lifetime.

So, how am I doing as a housewife? For starters, our house is a mess. It was a mess before we were parents and I'd be lying to myself if I'd honestly expected to suddenly become an organized clean freak after all of these years.  I apologize to company, but I'm not really sorry. This is our house, we live in it, and sometimes we'd rather watch a movie than clean up right after dinner.  Sometimes our dog drags every single toy out onto the floor and leaves paw prints all over the hardwood. Sometimes I leave baby outfits (and socks, oh the tiny socks) scattered throughout the house.  If you show up unannounced, you'll probably just have to deal with our mess.

I'm still no chef, but Ryan and Carley can vouch for the fact that I certainly try.  As the only adult home during the day, I feel obligated to figure out dinner each evening. This is a long shot from my former self, who lived on Subway sandwiches.   It helps that once each week we receive a box full of fresh produce, called "The Organic Box".  Could we go to the store and buy all of the same items for less money? Sure, we probably could. However, we are less inclined to eat out when we know that there are vegetables that must be eaten at home. Not only that, but I've been forced to experiment with new ingredients that I'd probably have never thought to buy otherwise... you know, like rutabagas and tomatillos. 

I don't bake, because baking leads to eating and when you are me, moderation is an unknown concept. I love cookies and cupcakes and cake, so much so that I try to avoid having them in my house. Baking can only end badly.  Of course, certain neighbours (yes, I'm talking about you Christine) occasionally send my husband home with half of a cake, which leads to evenings of overconsumption and regret. Mmm, regret.  

As far as being crafty goes, I'm still a "wannabe" crafty mama.  I have a Pinterest board full of ideas and projects that I'll never make.  However, the other night I was overcome with a rare burst of creativity. I'd finally got the baby to sleep, and I marched down the stairs, announcing to my husband that I was going to Michael's. I've never left home without my husband or baby, so this was a rather monumental occasion.  Carley joined me, and after browsing every aisle I left the store toting rolls of beautiful colourful tulle.

  As a mother to a little girl, I'm slightly obsessed with frilly, girly things such as tutus. I've spent a small fortune acquiring numerous items, justifying them by the fact that I take my own baby photos rather than paying an expensive photographer.  Of course, if I could make my own tutus, I'd be only more justified, right?  So that's exactly what I did.  The next day, I worked away while my baby napped, and by the end of the afternoon I had a glorious, pouffy tutu fit for a princess. 

We tested it out, and I feel as though I've started something bad. My original intent was to save money, but now I'm overcome with the need to make more tutus, in every colour of the rainbow.  My baby is only a baby for a short time, and I plan to take advantage of choosing what she wears while she is still too young to offer her input.  

Once upon a time, I was a world traveling, independent girl who desired nothing other than passport stamps and international cuisine. That girl is just somebody that I used to know.  Today, I'm a tutu-crafting, Strollercizing mama, who wouldn't change a thing... besides the messy house.