Sometimes it’s the little things that make us feel the biggest. Yesterday, the chain on my garage door snapped, trapping my car inside of the garage until the repair company could arrive.


As these things go, this happened in the morning during the school rush, and of course my husband was a thousand miles away on a business trip. We have a very small two-car garage that just barely fits two cars. Our classic colonial was built in the time before behemoth SUVs roamed the highways and spacious three+ car garages were the norm.


I texted my husband, Do you think it’s physically possible to somehow get my car over to the adjacent garage bay so I could pull it out and get the boys to school in time? From the comfort of his executive suite somewhere in Dallas where he was undoubtedly waiting for room service he replied, Technically I’m sure it’s possible, but I don’t see how it could be done. Also, my robe is very soft and this French press coffee is the bomb, sucker! Okay, I made that last part up, but only because I am as bitter as a steamy cup of Sumatra on weekday mornings.


I rousted my teenager, explained the situation, and he agreed to attempt to be the traffic controller in our cramped garage. I opened the adjacent garage door and surveyed the situation: it looked impossible. How was I going to move my car over to the neighboring parking slot with mere inches of clearance around the sides of my car?


Nevertheless, I persisted. Over the course of an hour, centimeter by centimeter, I cranked the steering column to the left, inched up in impossibly small increments, threw the gears in reverse and cranked the steering column to the right. Lather, rinse, repeat. About 30 minutes in, when it was clear I had scooted my car over approximately five inches, I told my son we should probably give up. He shook his head and kept gesturing for me to continue in a you got this move.


Around 45 minutes in, we hit a tipping point. By the hour mark, I had somehow managed to scoot my car exactly one full space to the right, enabling me to exit the garage just in time for carpool.


I know it’s a small thing. I could have waited for the repair company to arrive later that day and just kept the kids home. But I had things to do. I didn’t like the idea of being trapped at home for even a day. Teaming up with my teenage son during the time of day that usually finds both of us feeling rather crabby felt really good. In fact, we both  felt so victorious on the drive in to school that when I said I felt like Wonder Woman and Hercules he didn’t roll his eyes at me. 


Happy International Women’s Day, PlanHero nation. Big or small, we’ve got this. What’s something small that made you feel powerful recently? Tell us in the comments!