I woke up this morning with a story in my head and an hour or so before the kids wake up, so I throw back the covers and ease downstairs to my computer. I push the start button and run to put a load of clothes into the washer while it boots up. Of course, the dryer is full of yesterday’s towels.

After I fold the towels, I settle down with a cup of coffee. I open a new document and smile at the blank screen. I pose my fingers on the keyboard and glance around the room. My hands fall against the keyboard and the screen fills up with Z's. There's a dark spot on the carpet that wasn't there yesterday. I stand up so I can see it better. “Oh, God, the dog threw up again!”

Back in the laundry room, I rummage through my assortment of cleaning supplies until I finally spy the needed chemical weapons. With the spot finally gone, I return my arsenal to the laundry room, (third trip in ten minutes) add softener to the clothes, and decide to run to the bathroom and put the towels away.

I return to the computer - again. Sit and take a sip of coffee and type, Katie thought she was the luckiest girl in town until - The phone rings. I grab for it before it wakes the kids.

“Oh, hi, Mom.”

I reach for my coffee and look at the cursor blinking on the screen. I am hypnotized by its flashing on and off. The word pneumonia floats into my consciousness. “Mom, wait, who has pneumonia?”

“You remember Uncle Tom’s sister-in-law’s son who ran off to Mexico with that woman he met when he was selling used cars. Are Grandma’s babies up yet?”

With the clock ticking and my mother chattering on like a telemarketer who’s got you cornered, I look longingly at my computer. I glance out the window, and see the mailman with the morning’s mail. Too late, the dog who threw up on the rug, sees him too. She races to the front door her yaps bouncing around the stairwell making their way upstairs where the kids are sleeping.

“Mom, I have to go! The dog is going to wake the kids!”

Too late.

Now,the dog is still barking; my mother is still talking, and my three-year-old is scooting down the stairs on his bottom. I hang up the phone and we go back into the study where the computer sits inviting me to continue.

I sit before the screen with my three-year-old son on my lap. He demands to play a game on Nick, Jr.com. On cue, his five-year-old sister enters the room complaining, “Does Molly have to bark so loud?”

With one last look at, Katie thought she was the luckiest girl in town until- I close the computer window and start Nick, Jr .com. I pick up my legal pad and pen and give up my seat at the computer to my children. I move to the chair next to the computer. I write, Katie thought she was the luckiest girl in town until -

“Mommy, can we have pancakes for breakfast? Mommy, can we? MOMMY!”

“Sure, Mommy would love to make pancakes. In a minute.”

The phone rings. I pick up the phone with one hand and lean over my children so I can type wit the other hand, to be continued.