When debating whether to return to work after maternity leave, the straw that broke the camel’s back might have been knowing that if I went back, in order to continue breastfeeding, I was going to have to sit in a closet to pump.

My workplace was full of glass walls with only one real door – on a tiny phone chamber/closet. So it became the only private place where nursing mothers could pump.

I seriously could not stomach the thought of it. Pumping at work was hard enough the last time around when I had my own office with a door I could shut and keep some semblance of privacy. God knows you need it for those moments when a nozzle slips and you dribble milk on your favorite Ann Taylor pants.

But the idea of walking across the entire office, lugging my huge pump, attempting to discreetly slip into the phone closet – hoping like hell there wasn’t an intern using it to call her boyfriend – then walking back out 20 minutes later with bottles of milk to put in the office fridge next to someone’s lunch. UGH. No thank you.

I am a huge advocate for more mom-friendly work environments – whether it’s a proper place to pump, flex schedules, telecommuting. I’ve seen some amazing women leave work once they had kids. Obviously I think it’s great if the decision is based solely on the desire to spend more time with family, but it’s a shame if it’s also because they don’t think the environment is supportive enough to balance both.

I haven’t read this book, The Custom-Fit Workplace, yet, but I love that MomsRising draws attention to these issues in a way that’s actionable and meaningful for both employees AND employers.

Adding one more notch to my awesome belt, it appears I’ve grown a bunion on my foot.

My foot has been hurting for weeks but I never thought to look at it closely. Then when I was watching TV the other day I pulled my eyes away from CNN (or Survivor) long enough to notice a bump on the outer edge by my pinky toe that didn’t used to be there.

A little doctoring research on the Interwebs found that this delightful protrusion is actually a bunionette. At least it’s the feminine version.

In the interest of cutting costs I’m not going to the doctor yet. It’s almost sandal season, so I’ll be able to avoid the pain of shoes for a while. Meanwhile my new friend Paul Bunion will get the chance to breathe and enjoy the sights of summer, while scaring away small children and unwanted solicitors.

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On the upside, I successfully hemmed my IKEA curtains. It took me an embarrassingly long amount of time to do it, and my husband had to assist with some basic math and measurements, but whatever – it’s done. And they are only slightly crooked. Not enough to bother fixing.

Next stop – homemade pillow cases for the bedroom and couch.

My husband once again out-crafted me recently when he came up with this clever little art project on a Saturday morning – making flowers out of coffee filters.

First my daughter drew some patterns on the filters with markers.

Then they soaked the filters in water so the colors could spread.

Mr. Mom then twisted them around wood skewers, affixed them with a rubber band, and voila! – fun flowers that are so cute I still have them in a vase on the mantel.

As if I’m not insecure enough about my domestic abilities, I have a husband who is not only a better cook, but is also superior in craft-making. I am staking my claim as Lord of the Laundry, damnit.

You can see coupons were used as the placemat for this project…that’s the most use I’ve gotten out of those…

My hygiene has taken a serious nosedive since I started staying home. I can go for days without showering before I realize it. I think my sweatpants are driving a wedge between my husband and I – he’s always making jealous comments about them.

But one benefit of this decline in cleanliness – I have finally begun to master the art of dirty hair. I was never able to do it before – my bedhead doesn’t rejuvenate well, and I can’t stand that dirty hair feeling when I’m otherwise bathed and dressed for the office.

But lo and behold, when I’m rocking casual clothes all day (i.e. pajamas), the dirty hair somehow looks and feels fine. (no third party opinions represented in this statement)

Three days without a washing. Can you tell? Crap I think you can...

I was discussing this revelation with my stylist at my last haircut and he informed me that you can buy dry shampoo to use when you don’t wash your hair, but don’t want that dirty hair smell. I HAD NO IDEA.

Sure enough, I Google’d and even found an entire website devoted to the stuff. For busy moms on the go, homeless people, or anyone else who may lack shower access, I say this is genius.

I went to IKEA yesterday, and I admit that part of my motivation was the hour of free childcare in their Smaland play area. Even though the thought of the germs inside the ball pit skeeves me out, my daughter loves it and I couldn’t resist the chance for some kid-free speed shopping.

But as is the case with all IKEA trips, what began with excitement and opportunity, ended with me sweating, stressed and desperately searching for that freaking exit that is so hard to find. Like a rat in a maze.

Trip highlight – these Ribba picture frames. I’m itching to create a photo wall in our house and just ordered a bunch of Pottery Barn wood frames for it. But I’d been feeling guilty about the purchase since we have no cash to spare these days, so I’m stoked that the IKEA frames look just as nice and are only $5 vs. $20. Score!

I also bought some cheap sheer curtains for the girls’ rooms.They are the kind you supposedly can shorten by ironing a strip on the bottom and cutting off the excess fabric…

I’m skeptical. Particularly because I know my skills in this area. But I previously paid a tailor $30 per panel to hem curtains, which made me ill even when I was making an income, so I know this is not something I can outsource. I also know it isn’t very complicated, which is why it will bother me greatly if I jack it up somehow.

Trip lowlight – apparently IKEA will not sell its meatballs without the cream sauce on top. WTF?!

Given my inability to eat dairy, and the hunger that accompanied my aforementioned state of stress at the end of the trip, this was a major disappointment when I tried to get a $1 cup of meatballs at the cafe by the exit.

Thankfully I bought a bag of frozen meatballs so I could enjoy them at home instead. After microwaving a bowl for lunch today, I think now I understand why they won’t sell them without the sauce. Meh.

Tonight I tried again to make a non-dairy mac-n-cheese using this recipe. I had a hunch once I saw all the ingredients on the counter – coconut milk, mustard, onion powder – that this might not suit the palate of a 3-year-old…or a 37-year-old who has the tastebuds of a 3-year-old when it comes to mac-n-cheese.

Sure enough, as soon as I set the bowl in front of my daughter, she muttered, “I can smell that and I don’t like it.” Nuff said. Dead on arrival.

Though it was better than my first attempt, I also wasn’t a fan. The combo of flavors was just too exotic for my elementary school taste. Sadly this batch was even bigger than the last, so I’m holding out hope that my husband might take a liking to it when he gets home.

Alas I will leave well enough alone and won’t bother trying to make mac-n-cheese again until I’m back on the dairy train. Only about 280 more days, but who’s counting.

I have been vigorously researching and pinning new craft ideas to help keep my burgeoning Picasso entertained. She loves to use her scissors, so this one looked super fun – a faux haircut! Great idea!

But after I spent 15 minutes meticulously cutting and gluing the hair for her to trim, my worst fear was realized when it took her not even 1 minute to snip it all off, then ask me “Now what?” Shit.

Ok sure, I may have been a bit lazy and didn’t have as much hair as the example, but I do not have the patience to cut and paste 50 paper hairs. Seriously – where do these crafty mamas find the drive?

Lesson learned. This scrap rainbow project had a much higher ROI. Sure, I had to help cut a bunch of little squares, but she spent a good 30 minutes gluing them on.

I used those precious minutes to urinate, wash 1 dish, and make my bed. Ahhh that feeling of productivity and accomplishment – how I miss it sometimes.

But I drew some pret-ty awesome clouds on the rainbow.

Staying home with the baby I think I can handle. However I am getting a wee bit nervous about my ability to entertain the 3 year-old. This morning she was telling me she was already bored after completing multiple crafts and exhausting her toy options. It was 8:15.

In the interest of keeping her occupied and entertained, I thought it would be fun to give her a new play space where she can hang out, talk to her animals, read to her babies, smoke weed, etc. Nearly every inch of our house is taken, so I’m going to convert the bottom of her closet.

There’s gotta be something fun I can do with all that dead space. I’m thinking carpet squares or a floor pad, flowers and butterflies on the wall…maybe lights somehow to make it cozy. Of course I fear it will take me hours to create, she’ll like it for 20 minutes and then be tired of it – but I’ll get her involved in creating it and that’ll hopefully stretch out the entertainment value. Or at a minimum, it better at least buy me until 8:30.

This week marked the height of my domestic achievements with my first ever banana bread. Behold:

That thing not only looked good, it tasted good. I was so damn proud of myself I couldn’t stop talking about it. I told my husband his reign as the domestic deity in this household is clearly coming to an end.

Once again it was fun to get the kid involved. She liked mashing the bananas and mixing the ingredients.

I’m realizing that baking is a lot more kid-friendly than cooking. Something about hot stovetops and sharp knives that kill the opportunities to involve a child in many meal creations.

Now that I have an inflated sense of confidence, I think I’ll look for another treat to bake. Right after I go eat another piece of banana bread. So. Damn. Good.

Baking has always seemed far too time-consuming and difficult. But I do want my kids to have the experience of walking in the door and smelling freshly baked cookies. Or have fun baking cookies themselves while I lay on the couch. So this is one more beast I’m going to try and tackle.

My starter project was rice krispie treats. I realize now there is no baking involved here – go figure – but it still seems like a home cooked treat that signals someone loves you, so it qualifies in my book.

Holy sh*tballs these things are easy to make! The best part was that my kid thought they were awesome, had fun licking the spoon and “helping,” and thanked me profusely for making them. So did my husband.

They were actually kinda hard and stiff, which I blame in part on my inability to use butter. Next time I will use this Earth Balance no-dairy, no-soy butter, which I just bought and used on my second baking achievement – peanut butter cookies!

Unfortunately they were also extremely hard. And I burned the first batch. But still – my kid had fun helping and licking the batter, and she didn’t mind at all that she almost chipped a tooth while eating them.

Look out Betty Crocker – I’m on to you.