(I initially posted this to Instagram but moved it here so I could edit it a little more)

I had one of those moments as a mother today that you know you’re going to remember forever.

Austen got dressed this morning and then came into tell me that she felt like she needed to be the kind of girl who wears glasses. I was amused by this and told her she could wear her fake glasses to school, if she wanted. She looked for a bit and couldn’t find them. Now, typically I am the type of mom who spends weekday mornings yelling such platitudes as, “DOES IT REALLY NEED TO TAKE THIRTY MINUTES TO EAT HALF A BAGEL?” but something about her sense of urgency this morning struck me. She seemed to really need those glasses. I am fairly certain I sent them to Goodwill during our move –but instead I told her that maybe I just misplaced them during the move. #momwin

So, I started helping her look. And before I knew it, we were six minutes passed our necessary departure time. I am well versed in running late and I know that when we hit the eight minutes passed mark, I am going to have to slough it into get her a tardy pass. I crouched down to her level.

“Honey, why do you need glasses today?”

….she hesitated, “Because, mom. Smart girls wear glasses.”.

Ugh. Heart punch.

They don’t tell you when they give you that little baby burrito that you will watch in agony as your burrito tries to find it’s identity. Something about this morning struck me as the beginning of that sort of thing. It was all very Full House-ish and I was determined to make the most of this little moment.

I said, “What we wear does not define who we are. If you wear pink, are you girly”…”Yes!”…”Ok, well if you wear blue, are you no longer girly?”….”No!” ….See? We can change our outsides but our insides remain the same. And I know that your insides are very, very smart.”

We hugged. We headed for the car. I pantomimed a fist pump. NAILED IT! I mean, we might be late but I am Mother of the Year so write that on your tardy pass Secretary McJudgerson. But…in true humbling fashion, my child put me right back in my place. After a few moments of reverent, reflective silence, she announces,

“Mom, I have decided to forgive you for losing my glasses”.

And there you have it. I may not be the sage mother in her mind, but I am worthy of forgiveness.

A win, nonetheless.

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