As a Homemade Mother, I pride myself on my spirit of self-reliance.  I like doing things on my own, and I take great pleasure in working out simple solutions to everyday problems. But, tonight I was faced with the most daunting of challenges:

The car battery died. And I was miles from home. With all three kids. At dinnertime.

I hate to turn myself into a stereotype, but when it comes to car problems I am a total girl.  I am only too delighted to leave flat tires and dead batteries and loose mudflaps to my husband.  In our house, he fixes broken electronics and kills the bugs and grills the meat.

When I realized that the car battery was dead I called my husband in a state of panic: how was I supposed to get the car started (with three kids strapped into their seats getting angrier by the second)?!  He calmly talked me though the portable battery charger we had in the trunk.  Of course it was out of power so I had no choice but to track down a stranger and ask for a jump. In the chilly and darkening parking lot I recruited two adorable and lovely twenty-something girls who sweetly came to my rescue.

It took the three of us five minutes just to figure out how to open the hoods of our cars.  Then another 10 minutes to cautiously attach the cables – yes, there were sparks and yes, it freaked us out! In so many ways, the scene was the epitome of a bad anti-feminist joke “how many girls does it take to jump start a dead car battery?”

Meanwhile, Vivian was wailing with thick, wet tears streaming down her red face. And Mack peed his pants (poor guy!). And Evie was freaked out because she thought I had been hit by a car.  It was my own personal hell.  After many tense minutes, we got the car started and I promised those sweet young women  that I would pay their favor forward.

When the engine started I was overcome with an immense wave of pride. Since getting married, I’ve gotten lazy with tasks like this; I take for granted that my handy husband will come to my rescue.  But, its my job to teach my girls that they can confidently navigate any challenge.  Being a Homemade Mother means more than just self-sufficiency at home – its self-sufficiency in life.

After saying good-bye to the girls and closing the hood, I sat in the driver’s seat and gave myself a moment to decompress before starting the drive home.  I just needed a few deep breaths to calm my frazzled nerves. As I exhaled, a little chirp came from the back seat: “Mommy, I have to go potty.”

Sigh.