Little Victories

As I was driving my older boys to school this morning, the unthinkable happened.

A little indicator light on my dashboard lit up.

I had dreaded this moment, as I knew it would happen eventually. You see, things like this always happen when DH is out of town. One time, we were in the parking lot of the airport and the minivan wouldn't start. He hadn't even lifted off yet, and I was stranded in a parking lot with five children, and no cell phone. If you ever need a good prayer story, call me.

Anyway, it seems I have a fear. A fear of pumping air into my car's tires. I know this may sound really dumb to most of you, but it's a fear. And let me tell you, I know fear. I've given birth. Many times. Sometimes with no drugs. To 9+ pound babies. So why am I afraid of pumping air into my tires? Anyone with a pulse can do this, right?

But, what if I do it wrong?! What if I accidentally let all the air out? What if I over-inflate, and all the tires spontaneously blow out as soon as I get up to speed, sending me and all my little innocent passengers to a fiery doom? What if I lose that little valve cap thingy?

So of course, the little tire pressure indicator light went on as I pulled out of the driveway, and I can honestly say, I was spooked. I quickly pulled over to make sure we weren't running on empty somewhere, but all looked well. Thank goodness. But that blasted light was still on, mocking my fear.

After dropping the boys at their respective schools, I made my way to a nearby service station that I knew had a free air pump. As a side note--why do some gas stations charge for air? Does that strike anyone else as rude, and a way to add insult to injury? "I'm sorry ma'am, but you have no quarters. No air for you!" sheesh.

To make a long story a little less long, I did it. I pulled out the owner's manual, found out what the tire pressure should be (33 psi--and I even know what psi stands for!), and got out the nifty tire pressure gauge that my husband bought for me. Noooo, not that little silver stick thing that shoots a white plastic rod out--those are waaay too inaccurate for me! He got me a lovely little digital thing that has a read-out and everything. If only it would do the actual pumping...

Yes, indeedy. We had a low tire. I pumped it. All by myself. And you know what? When that little indicator light went off, I had my own personal victory dance. Well, as much as you can dance when you're driving around with a toddler in the backseat. I think that makes the score Me--1, Fear--0. woohoo.

Anyone else like to share? How do you overcome your dumb fears, and what does it take to do it? Feel free to share your little victory--it's empowering!