When people ask me what I "do", I too often answer that I'm "just a mom". Well that might be an understatement...In the space of my day, I work 50 jobs;  at least 20 before 8:00 a.m. My alarm goes off. No one but me hears so I become alarm clock to the three remaining sleepers. At times, this involves two different alarm settings and three different snoozes. I wake with coaxing for one, rocking for another, and tickling for yet one more.Coffee service is provided bedside and did I mention that I am an excellent television remote? I adjust volume, move antennae, or shift input as necessary. Pillows are fluffed and lights switched with the best of valets, I move on to bathroom attendant. After, I go upstairs to begin my kitchen duties.Along the way, I begin collecting. As a professional collector, I gather all like things and organize them. I collect dirty clothes and place them in a hamper. I collect dirty dishes and place them in a sink.  This collection is clearly dear to me as I am the only one that adds to and edits from each.After clocking in as cook and beginning breakfast, I moonlight in dishwashing. When plates are made, my butler duties resume and I set the table. I return to the half-awake trio with clothes in hand. My punch card now displays “Dresser”. Time keeper interrupts to scream “5 minute warning!” As child number one remembers his report card, I slide on my notary credentials. This is quickly followed by banker for lunch money and coat check girl.While I referee between two seeming bare-fist fighters, I begin as dentist; ensuring teeth are brushed. I double-team here as I also serve as conservationist -- turning off the water between brush-ings. We are in a drought, after all. If only, Greenpeace knew the battles I have waged for the environment!Before running to the car, I serve as a safety monitor. I check that all burners, etc. are turned to the appropriate “off” position and lock all doors. I buckle in child number two and as chauffeur, I drive to school.  I sing “You are My Sunshine” to my grumpy daughter serving both as singer and therapist. Time keeper returns to exclaim that they have three minutes before tardy. Before they run off, I do indulge in my favorite of the morning – official hugger – I then send them off to their day and return to mine and the remaining 30 on my list.