I've been mulling starting a blog for awhile. It seems every day includes something stupidly eventful with my kids, my job or some combination of the two. So, with a little push from our publisher and Lauren as my partner, we're opening the door for all to see the chaos in our lives as working moms.

And chaotic it is. I've been here in the newsroom since 9:30 this morning and just finished editing what I hope is the last story that needs my attention today. We've had no shortage of death-related stories this week.

It's already 10 minutes in to my son's baseball practice. Despite the fact I told my husband this morning we could "all go to practice together," there was no surprise in his voice when I called at quarter till 7 and said, "I'll have to meet you there honey!" Par for the course. Ten years in, and he knows so much better than I do the blackhole I get sucked into as soon as I enter the newsroom in the morning. God bless him; that's all I can say.

If I close this introductory post here, I can still make the second half of my son's practice and get home to throw together what I can pass as a healthy family dinner (frozen meatballs thrown in some spaghetti sauce from a jar and heated in the microwave with whatever kind of pasta I can dig out of the cupboard, and some sort-of fresh broccoli on the side).

Super Mom I am not, but they love me the same — at least they say so.