In My Eyes.

I'm driving home from California through Nevada, going on what felt like at least 23.47 hours, reflecting on the past day. In my eyes life is made up of very small victories. I judge whether a day went well by if I was able to: go to the bathroom just once by myself, get Caden to eat lunch without cramming his hands in his mashed carrots, and end my day with a clean floor. Huge victories for me now consist of using the elliptical, finishing a book, or reorganizing a closet. Anyway, as I'm starring into the dark highway I'm thinking, "I rock; I seriously am amazing; I can take on anything." If only Queen's, We are the Champions, had been playing on the ipod....

Let me explain, the night before Bry and I had gone down to visit his grandparents. Somehow along this extremely rugged terrain, aka driveway, Bryan managed to fall off the edge of the pavement and ruin his ankle. I heard it pop twice. I knew this wouldn't be good. I will give him credit though, before Mr. Injury-Prone fell to the ground he handed Caden off, saving his little baby life. After some screaming, Hop-Along-Sally continued the trek down to see his grandparents and by the end of the visit his ankle was the size of a black and blue softball. I suggested we go to the ER, but Bryan decides his night would be better spent debating his sister over whether the Karate Kid's Daniel son kicked off his broken ankle or healthy ankle in his winning victory. Unreal. At this point Bryan is completely incapacitated. He crawls the long hallway to bed. The next day it is no better; Big surprise. This is where my amazingness comes in. Keep in mind in my eyes very small accomplishments equal huge victories. Alone, I took care of Caden (fed, changed, clothed, entertained), packed our 5 bags, loaded the car, packed our snacks, helped Skippy out to the car, drove the entire way 8.5 hours (to this point of the story), filled the car up at each gas station (normally I never do this, not sure why, it's just Bryan's job), changed Caden at every gas station, fed Caden, kept Bryan's Diet Coke IV going at each stop, and--here's the biggie--I was even patient in waiting for the cripple to return from the bathroom with a screaming baby in the back ground. In my eyes this day has made me Superwoman. My mother would be proud. So, I'm driving along, basking in my glory, and it starts to snow. I think, bring it on snow; I can take you; Did you not just hear my list of accomplishments today?!? I continue on. Then we hit Windover and it's stinking white-out blizzard, my triumphant atmosphere disappears. Humbled, I pull the car over, help Skip To My Lou to the driver's seat, and ride the rest of the way home grateful that I don't always have to be that amazing. Even though I had to turn the car over, in my eyes, I still pretty much rocked this day. :)