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Before I could write word No. 1 of my debut column last year, I had to clean my kitchen.
The counters were wiped until they were spotless. The stove was de-greased, the floor was thoroughly swept, and all the dishes were washed and put away.

Something about seeing a sparkling white sink jump-starts my writing process.

Quirky? Maybe, but that has been my ritual ever since I first signed on to write about life as a stay-at-home mom, which I will have been for one full year come next week.

A whole year? It doesn’t seem possible. I still remember how excited I was about my new life outside the corporate world: I could sleep late. I could wear sweats every day if I wanted. And most important, I could spend more time with my family.

So far, I’ve done all that.

But looking back, perhaps I was a little too idealistic about some of the other goals I imagined myself achieving at home. I had a pocket full of good intentions but no real blueprint.

Let’s start with the plan to teach my two preschoolers all the things they would have been learning at daycare. I even asked their teachers for the curriculum so I could follow it daily. (I know; don’t laugh.)

I whipped up a color-coded calendar and scheduled lunch, naps, playdates, crafts and lessons on their ABCs and 123s, with only about an hour per day of TV allowed.

Um, yeah, that lasted about a week. Now, my 5-year-old can tell you that "Clifford comes on first, then SuperWhy, then Dragon Tales" on PBS.

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