The day starts out as usual. I manage to get three cranky children out the door and drive them to school. I arrive home to a blinking answering machine, a ringing business phone and our adorable new puppy marking his territory – for the second time this morning.

After I answer the phone and return some calls, I gulp down cold coffee and eat the remnants of what I hope was my daughter's leftover bagel. A shower is next on my agenda, usually my 10 minutes of peace, but our puppy yelps at the shower door as soon as I close it.

The telephone rings again. It is my son, pleading for me to deliver his assignment he left "somewhere" in his room. With wet hair and little make-up, I deliver the paper and drive home to find the answering machine blinking again. My daughter isn't feeling well and would like to come home. After retrieving her and settling her with pillows, blankets and a juice box, I return to my duties: preparing for one of two parent meetings at school this week.

Things are looking good until I get a phone call from my husband requesting I type and fax a mega amount of important documents to his associate. No problem. Make more coffee, check on sick daughter, clean up another puppy mess.

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