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Every mom’s a gem, but mine’s the most precious

“Friends” may well have been the best sitcom to come out of the 1990s. IMHO.

I loved those six fictional pals and my real ones will tell you that I can quote any scene from any episode with total recall.

A favorite is the one in which Monica and Chandler break it to the group that they are going to rear their soon-to-arrive baby in the suburbs. Monica explains that they feel moving to a house in a neighborhood is simply the better option for them.

“Why can’t you raise the baby in New York City? Lots of people do it. Ross is doing it. I’m doing it. Sarah Jessica Parker’s doing it!” Rachel protests.

But Mom Monica lays down the law.

Juxtaposition over to another of my fervent TV devotions: Bravo network’s “The Real Housewives.”

Most of the “Real Housewives” are mothers as well, but their parenting styles seem quite disparate from those of our faux “Friends” and probably dissimilar to those of the rest of us in America, too, BT dubs.

The newest addition to the Beverly Hills brood is model-turned-actress Denise Richards. You may have heard of her ex-husband, Charlie Sheen? Think what you will of her, but cut her a little slack for surviving THAT train wreck, at least. Sigh.

One the most poignant moments this season was when Denise cried to her new, hunky husband, Aaron, at the thought of her daughters (two of the three whom she shares with Charlie) growing up so fast.

She tells him, “I’m just afraid that I messed up so much…” as she sobs, lamenting the hot mess that was her marriage to and divorce from Sheen.

That’s when it hit me: At our core, most moms are more alike than different.

We all hope and pray for healthy children who grow to be strong, independent, caring, giving, compassionate, happy, secure and, I’m speaking for a good number of us here, faith-filled adults.

Do we mess up? Um, heck yeah. But don’t beat yourself up, Denise — the rest of you girls, either, OK?

It’s like Aaron told her: “You did the best you could. Don’t look back, be present today and look to the future.” Preach, Aaron.

Look, not everyone’s as lucky as my siblings and me. We snatched up the world’s single greatest mom. Fortunately for my sister, brother and li’l old moi, Arleen didn’t mess up.

I know what you’re thinking: She’s human, she had to misstep every now and again. But the truth is, not my mama.

All I remember about my mother from childhood is that she was ALWAYS there for us. ALWAYS in all ways. She never missed packing a lunch, attending a school play or parent-teacher conference. She and Pop never allowed us to come home to an empty house. Ever.

She was always patient, always kind. She rarely had to raise her voice and never her hand. She let us eat cookies and chips and soda on Saturday nights when Dad was working and brought us to Mass every Sunday. She was the ideal role model for me in raising my very own little miracle.

My mother is, was and forever will be the quintessential madre. And even though I’m 51, I’ll never stop needing my mommy. I love you so much, Mom.

Happy Mother’s Day to her, my Bonus Mom Pat and all you moms out there. You’re all gems… it’s just that mine’s the most precious.

Kimerer is a Tribune Chronicle columnist who hopes she didn’t totally mess up as a mom. Read her mom antics at www.patriciakimerer.com

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