I wanted to take my son out and finish our book.  I grabbed the jeans from 3 years ago (meaning 2 sizes larger)—the ones with the ill-placed pockets.  There was a chill, so I got my cardigan—not a cute one, one that was marketed to an older crowd.  Hair in a quick bun, rimless glasses.  After reading the last chapters of Farmer Boy, I stopped by the bathroom and THERE WAS A MOM IN THE MIRROR!  A MOM I tell you!

I know that I spawned more than seven years ago.  I don’t just mean that I saw a literal mom in the mirror.  I saw a stereotype in the mirror.

I should have seen this coming.  I’ve heard, “You’re such a mom!” and “You hug like a mom.”  (I’m not really sure what that last one means.  I think that both were intended to be compliments.  I think that they can be translated as “You plan/prepare well.” and “Your affection is firm and heartfelt.”)   I define a car’s quality by how many carseats can fit in the backseat.  I feel the urge to remind people to say “please” and “thank you.”  I look for the I-have-to-go-potty facial expressions.  I use the word “potty” even when talking to adults.  Yes, it’s entirely reasonable that there’s a mom in the mirror.

It still weirds me out a little.

Now, to embrace or run from the stereotype?