Normally, I don’t think too much about all the hats I wear, usually at the same time, but having to readjust my schedule to accommodate the puppy has made me realize how delicate a balance it is, and how close I am to losing it at just about any moment.

I’ve read tons of articles about the additional workload that women who work outside the home have, “the second shift” as it is sometimes called. I’ve seen the numbers that put the potential earned salary of a mom at well into six figures, if she earned the salary associated with a chef, house cleaner, babysitter, etc., etc., etc., and for the most part, I take it all with a grain of salt. I always planned to have a career and to be a mom, so complaining or feeling overwhelmed by either of those things seems to be a little hypocritical.

But, this week, the balance is precariously close to the edge of the abyss, and for the first time in a long time, I am feeling a little bit stressed out. It all started innocently enough. When we got the puppy, I realized that we needed to free up a little bit of time in the afternoon to really play with the dog. He deserves it after waiting patiently for us to come home from work and school. One of the things that fills in our “after-school, in between activity time” besides homework is practicing the various instruments. Since it all still had to be done, I needed to rebalance the schedule.

I realized that every morning, between the time the boys leave for school and E leaves for school, we had a 20-minute window of time that we really didn’t do anything productive. On days she would have quizzes, we would study, but otherwise, we found ourselves watching something mindless on Netflix. It dawned on me that this would be the perfect time slot for her to practice the piano.

I was shocked to see, after only a week, that E was suddenly more enthusiastic about practicing and she finally seemed to be enjoying playing the piano. When I stopped to think about it, I realized that she wasn’t tired from a day at school, and she also knew that piano practice would end when she had to leave for school, so her attitude changed dramatically. Combining that parental win with a good solid block of family time in the afternoon as we all went for a walk or played in the backyard together, and I was feeling confident in my ability to “do it all.” Naturally, it was time for a reality check.

Since I work from home for a few hours in the morning, I usually have my computer and my phone nearby, and once E settles in to practice, I get back to reviewing emails and planning my day. The other morning, however, we had some crises brewing. In the middle of her practice, my phone rang. I answered it, and it was a co-worker who had some questions she wanted to go over before our meeting later that morning. I slipped out of the music room, and closed the door, while E finished practicing. Nevertheless, my co-worker could hear the piano in the background. “What is that?” she asked. I laughed and explained my multitasking morning. She also laughed and said she was doing the same thing work-wise but sitting on her couch with her cup of coffee and her cat, enjoying the peace and quiet. “We’re at different places in our lives,” she said.

That morning was the start of a hectic day that followed me home from the office. I had no sooner walked in the door, started something on the stove for dinner, and was in the process of pulling clothes out of the washer and loading up the dryer when my phone rang again. Same co-worker. I was trying to get the dryer started while she laid out the next series of challenges we had, and of course, I dropped the phone. Again, my co-worker laughed, and said something along the lines of how when her day was over, it was over, but when I went home, I had another whole job to start. As I got back on track with work, I vaguely noticed the smell of something burning. I think the turning point of my week was when I went to investigate whether the dryer was melting down, completely forgetting that I’d had beef browning on the stove.

Couple that all together with children who needed help with homework, a dog that most certainly needed exercise, a swim practice to prepare for, and it all just came crashing down. For the first time in a long time, I wondered if maybe it was too much. Maybe choosing this craziness was a bad idea. Maybe I was making all the wrong decisions. I had a few moments of self-pity before remembering that whatever was on the stove was probably on fire by now, all the work that I’d needed to do before still needed to be done, and now I’d robbed myself of five minutes of time by pouting. I’d regret that lost five minutes for the rest of the evening.

I frequently worry that I’m trying to do a lot of things and I’m not doing any of them terribly well, and there are definitely some days when that’s true and things just have to suffer. But, like most moms, and dads, out there who try to “do it all,” tomorrow is another day to buckle up and try to enjoy the ride. I do ask myself what I can cut out or what I can drop, and at the end of the day, I’m never going to regret skipping doing the dishes, or letting a load of laundry sit in the dryer too long. As I ran into swim practice that night, late, of course, I said to one of the other coaches that maybe it was time to start thinking about cutting back. She laughed and me and said, “but what would you do with all that free time?” I don’t think I’m ready to answer that question for a few more years.

Liz Pinkey is a contributing writer to the Times News. Her column appears weekly in our Saturday feature section.