It's Wednesday, right?

I’m looking around at all the boxes still to be unpacked and trying to decide what to tackle next. We’ve lived here a month and there’s still so much to be done. I got dinner going in the crockpot (PS I love you crockpot) and as I sit here looking out the window at the rain and listening to my toddler hollering “Ya-hoo!” joyfully from her bed (riding her stuffed dog like a horse, I imagine), I’m tempted to go sit down on the couch with a bag of pita chips and a DVR’d episode of Grey’s Anatomy (PS I love you Lifetime Network). Then I realize that my favorite Claire Murray rug is still lying in the driveway, soaked and looking woefully unloved, where I left it out to dry in the sun three days ago after cleaning cat yack off of it. And then I think, this is a fairly typical day for me, and my husband will laugh when he gets home from work and hears my stories, so why shouldn’t you read them and feel entertained—if not comforted—as well? So here I am, attempting to blog once again. I’ve tried it before, at least three times, and failed. I was a journalism major, for Pete’s sake, this should be easy! I’ve felt the need for a theme, something important or poignant or clever, but nothing’s come to me. So here’s me. A mom willing to be honest about motherhood. My day-to-day. Me, wanting to grow as a writer and as a person. Take four at blogging. Go!