What do you do all day?

So.  About six weeks ago, I started taking a class at this very cool writing center in Norfolk.  The class in itself is a blog topic for me, but for our purposes here today, let me just say I LOVE IT!  From my amateur perspective, the "Beginning Fiction Writing" class:  there is not a dud writer among us, everyone is just a little whacked out and the teacher is (in addition to being a fiercely talented, published author) more like a minister of creative essence than a writing instructor. 
Alas...
I digress.

One of my fellow students in the class is a stay-at-home dad.  After class one afternoon, we were standing around the parking lot, discussing how fabulous Montessori education is (his son is in Montessori as well), engaging in general chit-chat.  Here's the question that stumped me:

"What do you do all day?"

Well shit, I thought.  When the stay-at-home moms and I chit-chat, we all roll our eyes conspiratorially and immediately begin our lists of things we should be doing, have done, won't ever be doing, etc, ad nauseum.

Cleverly, I replied, "I don't know."

At which point, my friend says, also quite cleverly, "You don't know what you do all day?"

Here's the thing:  I don't know what I do all day.  I am temperamental (polite word for moody or flaky) and have an unfortunate disdain for scheduling.  Probably because I suck at it.  Some days, I might clean some obscure corner of my kitchen, or wash and fold laundry. 

More often, I drop my children at school (45 minute round trip) and then explore Walmart.  Consumerism is a most excellent drug...I can enjoy ten minutes of choosing lunch meat for the onerous lunches I make for the kidlets.   It's way more fun to choose the lunch meat than it is to make the fucking sandwiches.  Usually by the time I have finished inspecting Walmart (do they have a new nail polish color I MUST have?) and get my gatherings back home, it's lunchish time.  Hell, I'm ready for a nap.

Most accomplished house goddesses (or gods, I can't forget my stay-at-home men friends) are having palpitations as they read the previous paragraph.  They have schedules and do productive things like packing their childrens' lunches the night before!  Their childrens' socks are clean, matched and in drawers.  My children always have clean socks:  they just have to leap into a mountain of clean laundry to find them!  I consider it my own version of character building.  Plus, now they will have plenty to share with their therapists one day.

The point is--I have no freaking idea where my days go.  My children are mostly clean, mostly happy and are capable of thoughtful conversation (well, except the 3 year old, who is fond of hurling trucks in lieu of conversation--everyone has their limits).  I'm sure I could perform adequately if there were some bitchy house inspector who checked my work daily--so far , the health inspectors haven't been summoned, so I'm on my own.

I read a lot of good books, have a lot of good conversations and can take my family members to doctor's appointments if need be. 

Will this hold up on a resume, do you think?

I'll keep you posted!  :-)