It was 5 pm. Arsenic hour. The pot was boiling over. The toddler was clutching my crutch to steady her wobbly legs, another kid was wailing "his finger's on my chair and he won't get off."

I grabbed the ringing phone. A deep male voice asked: "Would you like to come for a drink?" (It was a business acquaintance who did not know me well.)

"A drink," I gasped enthusiastically, "that's just what every mother needs at 5 o'clock. can you give me 10 minutes to brush their hair and put their shoes on?" He hung up. The Billabong probably wasn't his style, anyway.

The telephone can be a mother's umbilical cord to sanity - unless she dials another mother. Within seconds an ear drum can be shattered by bellows of "Get off the roof. You'll break your bloody neck!" Or, "If you're going to kill each other do it OUTSIDE!"

Calling a mother with toddlers is slightly less traumatic. Your train of thought will probably only be gently derailed by something like: "That's a lovely road, sweetheart. Now can you pop the flour and the sultanas back in the cupboard." Or, "clever boy! Now go and tip it in the toilet."

Just when you know the baby's asleep, or the older kids are six metres up a tree at the back of the yard, you assume it's safe to make that important call. Ever so quietly you dial the number. Within seconds the baby will be bawling, you'll become a jungle-gym to toddlers, and if you have teenagers they'll find it the perfect moment to ask for money.

Some calls can't be put off. The bank manager isn't there at 3 am, is he? And if he was, you could bet the brood would wake up and fight... "Who is it?" "I asked first."

There I was, talking to a very important person when my son interrupted. "Excuse me, Mum."
"Yes, darling?" I asked in my gentlest, perfect mother voice.
"What kind of kissing is oral sex?"

A learned child psychologist recommends modifying attention-seeking behaviour while you're on the phone by using star charts. He obviously doesn't work from home - with real kids underfoot. I tried, I really did. But my daughter picked the stars off her chart, struck them on her nose and painted the rest of her face with my best lipstick.

While I was on the phone, of course.

About 15 years ago, when one of our kids answered the phone, she loudly told the caller: "My mummy just wants to do a poo in peace and quiet." Then she hung up. If you were that caller, I'd still love to know who you are. And how you've been all this time. Please call me back. She doesn't say things like that any more.

But now that he's a teenager I can't guarantee when the line won't be busy.