As is clear from Julie's day-in-the-life, this mom can write. Of course all moms wear a lot of hats in their day-to-day lives; hers include radio personality on 93.3 FM, realtor and most recently, author of "From Conception to Confusion." Julie wrote the book about raising her sons, 14-year-old Miles and 13-year-old Max with her husband Charles. She explains that she started writing when people would comment on how much they loved her "funny, tell-it-like-it-is holiday cards."

Check out Julie's day in the life!

5:00 a.m.: My alarm goes off. What? Already? Who stole time? In my mind there is a battle with the alarm clock. Don’t open your eyes. Because if you don’t see the numbers in all their bright red colors, then it doesn’t exist. And once the dog realizes I’m actually alive, her tail wags, shaking the bed.  “Okay. Time to poop.” (the dog, not me).

5:15 a.m.: Check the kids’ rooms. I need to make sure all the bodies that went to bed are still there. No more, no less. I gently begin to wake the others up. One needs the light on. One needs the light off but shades opened.

5:30 a.m.: Yes, that’s right, I'm showered and out of the bathroom in 15 minutes. Did I mention we have a one-bathroom house?

6:00 a.m.: My blood pressure begins to rise as I begin pleading with people to get up. Bribes begin. “I’ll make you eggs. How about a bagel? McDonald's?”

6:15 a.m.: Others begin to rise. The dog! “Did anyone feed the dog?”

From 5:30 to 6:30 a.m., there is a continuous line for the bathroom. One by one they lay claim to that much coveted room in 20 to 25 minute increments. By 6:30, if you haven’t taken your shower, forget it. Time to start the laundry. Hot water is now hogged by the washing machine.

7:00 a.m.: My husband is ready to leave (I mean for work. Just to clarify). This is when I begin to loudly do a countdown until departure time. “Thirty minutes! Did you eat? Get dressed and bring down your backpacks. We need to leave by 7:30. Thirty minutes!” It’s like the announcement that your favorite store makes when they close. People hear it, but no one really listens.

Inevitably, there is last-minute drama that involves, but is not limited to, a sock without a mate, an empty milk carton, a sore throat or the dreaded wad of backpack mail now finding its way out of the overstuffed backpack. “Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait. Now? You need this signed, now? It was sent home last week!”

Of course by 7:40, I’m in full panic mode.

7:45 a.m.: Head count. We’re all accounted for and head off. I try my best to keep the conversation light on the way to school. I figure the boys have enough on their minds.  Typically I fill them in with the plans for that day. "I’ll get you at carpool. Unless you have an activity after school. Then I’ll be there later. Wait…I might have a meeting. Well, don’t worry. Have a great day and I will see you at the end of the day.”

8:00 a.m.: Carpool! We made it. I’m geeky with excitement and wave when I see my mom friends as we move along that seemingly endless line of vehicles. I watch my boys exit the car and sling their backpacks onto their shoulders as they head toward the school entrance. I drive slowly (mindful not to hold up the drivers behind me) and watch them enter the building, hoping maybe they might come back and give me a big hug. Doesn’t happen, but most days I get a goodbye smile.

8:05 a.m.: Ahhhhhh…time for  Starbucks. Just after I pull over to check a few emails. And a few more. Milk!!! I forgot to get milk. And eggs. And bread… To the store I go.

8:15 a.m.: Stop in the store and pick up a few items to tide us over. Do not go past the bakery. Do not go past the bakery.

I stop back home at 8:30 and quickly unpack the groceries. The voice in my head reminds me that someone needed something special to wear tomorrow. Laundry. Yes, switch the laundry to the dryer.

Back in the car and on the way to the office at 8:45Who times these traffic lights anyway?

9:00 a.m.:  I'm meeting with the team. Now I feel grown-up. We discuss the housing market, our new marketing strategies and the trends of buyers and sellers. Carpool seems like a distant memory.

From 10:00 until noon I’m on the phone with clients, checking in and scheduling appointments. I sneak out for lunch when I can. I have appointments with clients throughout the afternoon.

What???? It’s 3:00. But I’ve got stuff to do!Quick. ThinkAm I picking the kids up from the carpool line? Wait, I think they have an after-school activity at school. Or maybe just one of them.

3:30 p.m.: I'm in the carpool line. On the phone. Cell battery dying. I love to watch the kids as they come practically skipping to the car. I try to finish all business calls so I can be present for the kids.  Really present.  This is their time to decompress.

3:45 p.m.: We are heading home. As we drive, I hear tales of which kid barfed in the hallway. They tell me how much homework they have. I find out what happened in gym class, what they ate for lunch, what they wish they ate for lunch, what that one kid who has the cool mom got in his lunch.

4:00 p.m.: We are back home. “I call bathroom!” And it’s round two of bathroom traffic control.

4:30 p.m.: Homework is started. Unless it’s math. Please don’t have math homework. Please don’t have math homework.

5:00 p.m.: Dinner time. Uh oh. I go through the fridge and the cabinets. Five food groups? Not tonight. Why didn’t I get more at the grocery store? I’m just looking for five different things to put on a plate. Unless Cheez Whiz is a food group. Canned veggies will do. Bagels. Sausage and crackers.

By 5:30 my husband is usually home. He’s exhausted, but as the dog and the boys put a full-court press on him, he cracks a smile. Many evenings  by 6:00 I’m out meeting with clients or sneaking in time with friends. Home by 8:00. Just in time to hear some sort of commotion between the boys upstairs. I wait to hear about who started what. The dog is pacing back and forth.  Has anyone let you out?

8:30 p.m.: I make lunches. Really? I forgot bread too? Forget it. I resolve with the idea that we will leave early tomorrow morning so the boys can pick out their own over-processed, but oh-so-convenient Lunchables box.

9:00 p.m.: I check in to see if my publisher has sent any emails. If I can keep my eyes open and I’m thinking halfway clearly, I will write. I’ll send out a few out pitches for editorial pieces, marketing material for my book or work on a freelance project.

It’s time to start rounding up the guys for bed. From the bathroom I hear, “I was in here first!” And the day winds down much like it started.  First-world problems. It feels good to be home.

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