Mom

If I had to describe myself it one word, it might be Mom. Yes, I have three wonderful kids, and love taking care of them. Nothing makes me happier than spending a fun day with my kids, making sure they are well fed, clean and dressed. I love hanging out with Tess-a-Bess reading a book while we rock in the rocking chair. Building Legos with Boo allows me to spend some quality time with my boy. And shopping with Sister makes me realize why I am so lucky to have a daughter like her.



Now, granted, I never said I was the world's greatest mom. I am notoriously a bad housekeeper. I can't count the number of papers I forgot to turn into school or the snacks I forgot to pack. And, yes, I do occasionally lose my temper and yell at my kids with insane proclamations such as, "If you don't behave I will pop that balloon you just got!" (Seriously, I did say that. Mother of the Year, I know). But nobody is perfect, and no one wants a sickly sweet, do-it-all supermom, do they?



My "Mom" title doesn't just apply to the kids, I kind of think it is how I approach many situations in life. I always seem to be the one my friends come to at work for advice and maybe even a hug or two. When I deal with patients I always want to be sure they feel cared for and secure. And I always seem to jump when some random kid falls at the playground or seems to be lost in the mall. When I see a situation that needs someone to take care of it, I just jump right in.



One year ago my "Mom" title served me well. After seeing a 47yo runner, Carolyn, collapsed on the running trail, I just jumped right in, knowing something needed to be done about the situation immediately. Now what I did was probably the most laughable, non-textbook version of CPR. But after having a massive heart attack, Carolyn just needed something to make sure she was here to mother her two children. I'm happy to say that whatever I did that day, with the help of a few other bystanders, was enough to ensure that Carolyn was here for her children, her husband, her life. Now, I'm not proud of my CPR abilities, because they suck. But I am proud of my ability to jump right into a situation and take care of what needed to be taken care of. I am proud of my ability to be a "Mom" and make bad situations okay.



Now, this post would be amiss without mentioning my own mother. My Mom - who raised a set Irish twins by herself, working two jobs, sending us to 12 years of Catholic school, and ensuring that we became strong, independent, loving women. Today on her 62nd birthday, I can say she is one of the reasons I am such a good Mom.



Tonight, we celebrated my mom with a nice dinner and an ice cream cake. And after the party was over, Tess-a-Bess fell and split her lip. I picked my little girl up, kissed her lip, and made everything okay.