Some days I think the Mommy part of my job description is the hardest, other days the Social Worker seems daunting.  Then there are days when the two collide and leave me broken wide open.  This past weekend was one of those times.

    Friday I was in full on Mommy mode.  Hunter was home and we were preparing to go out of town for Christmas with my Dad's family.  I was busy packing and running errands.  Somewhere in the day I looked at my Twitter feed and commented almost casually to Hunter "there has been another school shooting."  Then we finished our errands and went to pick up our oldest son from school and hit the road.  For the first time all day I was able to see the details of the massacre at Sandy Hook Elementary School.
 My heart broke with each detail I read.  As a Mom I thought back to Robert's casual announcement a few weeks ago they'd had an "intruder drill" where they hid behind things. At the time I was a little shocked they practiced such things, but now I couldn't stop thinking about it.  Wondering if those poor children had practiced the same thing with their brave teachers.
       As a social worker I thought of all the hurting people young and old who manage to inflict their pain on others.  And how hard we work to prevent that from happening, and how often we fail.  I want to say we need more regulation on gun ownership I want to preach about the benefits of early and meaningful mental health treatment.  But the sad truth is sick people do sick things all the time.
     I carefully shared the major points of the situation with Robert, he was going to hear it and I wanted to control the information.  He asked me "Did they go into lockdown?'  When did that become something my nine year old knows about and understands?
     Bedtime in the hotel came quickly and exhausted we all slept preparing for our Christmas party the next day.  When I woke I had several messages from the crisis group I contract for.  Another shooting, this one in Birmingham, at St Vincent's. Birmingham- my hometown.  My Dad worked for years at St. Vincent's- I've been there more times than I can count.  Three people shot, the gunman dead. Could I go?  Could I not go? Social worker/mommy.  Our party was quieter than usual.  My cousin left for Afghanistan the day before, my aunt passed away this year and her absence was felt. But still we corralled children and ate dressing and sang Christmas carols.
    On the way home Hunter dropped me off at St. Vincent's to make rounds with chaplains, to do what I could.  As we pulled up to the ER entrance there were police cars and news reporters.  Robert seemed anxious and questioned again what I was doing and why..the mommy and the social worker were both working overtime.  Hunter wrangled all three tired cranky boys through the zoolight safari while I roamed the mostly empty hallways of the hospital, looking at bullet holes and listening to stories of near misses and doing a whole lot of waiting around to wait some more.  I spent most of that time thinking about how quickly life goes from being an ordinary day to a day that marks your life as before and after.  I've born witness to many of those pivotal days as a social worker.  I hope I don't as a mommy.
    It is so hard to reconcile the world I hope for my children, and the one we are given.  Hunter reminds me that there is so much beauty and good around us if we only look for it.  I know he is right, but this weekend the Mommy in me just wants to cry and hold my babies close.  The Social Worker just wants to hold everyone's babies close and sit with those who cry.  That's what being a social worker/mommy is about sometimes.