On a recent rainy morning I bundled up my girls, made sure they had their raincoats and umbrellas and issued the same warning I issue every rainy day before school. "If you get your feet way on your way to school you will have wet feet all day long". We trudged to the bus-stop (slowly) in a cold downpour. The girls both listened perfectly. They avoided puddles. The took their time. They kept their hoods up and their umbrellas overhead. When I saw their little bus round the corner I let out a relieved sigh. No fighting, no wet feet, no puddle jumping. I took Abby's hand first to help her over the puddle in the street. She jumped to get over it, misjudged (as she so often does) and landed right in the puddle. Her poor little foot (shoe, sock and all) were soaked.
The bus was their and even over-prepared me didn't think to bring extra socks along for a short trip to the busstop. As the bus pulled away I wanted to cry. I watched her go to school with one wet foot. I know it isn't much but at that moment the thought of my tiny little girl spending the next three hours with cold feet (and I knew she wouldn't say anything to her teacher) made me so sad.
Some days it isn't the big things; scolding them when they misbehave, having to say no to "one more book before bed" or dealing with their "issues" it's the wet sock that brings us the most Momma guilt.