I am a doctor.
I am “Doc.”
I am “Doctor Amelia.”
I am “DOOOOC!!!”
I often wear scrubs, but I’m not in the operating room all day.
I sport comfortable shoes with my scrubs, yet I don’t run marathons.
My hair is usually tied back because 1) I haven’t had a moment to deal with my gray strands, or 2) I haven’t managed to wash it today—or for a few days.
My nails are chipped, my lab coat doesn’t match my scrubs, and I sometimes wear funky socks, often adorned with cartoon characters. That’s just how I roll.
On other days, it’s business casual, but definitely not “doctor casual”—I know better than that.
I do dress up for professional gatherings, but I’d rather be in my favorite pajamas, curled up on the couch binge-watching old episodes of Grey’s Anatomy and ER, knowing my kids are sleeping peacefully in their rooms.
I am in my mid-30s, balancing a busy career and family life.
I may not be the best housekeeper, but my home is filled with warmth and laughter.
I’m not a fan of cooking, and I admit I’m not great at it either. I wish I could change that, but I know I won’t. My freezer is stocked with ready-made meals, and there’s plenty of instant noodles in the pantry—don’t judge!
I currently have six piles of paperwork to sort, five reports to finish, and four patients to follow up with.
I am the official chauffeur for the family minivan—affectionately dubbed The Blue Cruiser—decorated with stick figure stickers of our family, a “my kid is an honor student” magnet, and the remnants of snacks from the kids. It’s a sweet ride, if you don’t mind the chaos inside.
I am far from perfect. I sometimes let out a curse word. I lose my patience. Occasionally, I need a break.
I love to scroll through medical journals and parenting blogs, but I rarely implement what I learn. It’s like Pinterest for parents—so many ideas, so little time!
I’ve spent countless hours caught up in medical dramas on TV, neglecting my own self-care. I think my kids should probably each get a puppy to teach them responsibility.
My children are compassionate, and my spouse and I strive to set a positive example, which makes me proud.
I often find myself laughing at inappropriate jokes and not keeping up with current events, but I am fully engaged in my children’s lives—they are my universe.
Sometimes I feel guilty for not spending enough time with them, yet at other times, I relish a moment of peace. And that’s alright.
There are days when I might not like my kids, but my love for them is unwavering every second of every day.
I consider myself a best friend to my children, and they reciprocate that bond. My hope is that this relationship stays strong.
I don’t pressure them for straight A’s; I just expect them to do their best. If they falter, they receive support—not punishment.
I believe consequences should fit the actions. Certainly, we shouldn’t cry over spilled milk, but if someone intentionally hurts another, they’d better be ready to face the music. (And please, clean up the mess yourself; I’m your mother, not your maid.)
I mediate sibling disputes regularly. Sometimes, I secretly cheer for one over the other!
I respect my children, and I expect the same in return—this is non-negotiable.
In my mid-30s, I contemplated returning to medical school, but life had other priorities for me. Still, my “healing hugs” and magical band-aids work wonders for little scrapes.
I could never teach, but I have immense respect for those who do.
My schedule limits my ability to coach my kids’ sports teams, but I’ll always be their biggest supporter, cheering just as loud for others’ kids.
It saddens me that I am not a stay-at-home mom, but my career keeps my sanity intact.
I’m a storyteller, a tear-wiper, a bug-squisher, a toy-seeker, an event organizer, a peacemaker, a homework helper, and a counselor. I get paid in hugs and kisses, and it’s absolutely worth it!
My kids might spend too much time on their tablets, while I’m glued to my phone—clearly, we all need to address that.
Sometimes, I embody “that doctor mom,” and that’s perfectly fine because we all have those moments, even if we don’t realize it.
I am thankful.
I am fortunate.
I am a mother.
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Summary: This piece reflects the humorous and relatable experiences of a mother who balances her demanding career as a doctor with family life. She shares her daily struggles, joys, and the chaos of motherhood, all while maintaining a sense of gratitude and love for her children.