The Yellow Brick Road

Today I thought it was a good idea to pull a wagon containing a 47 lb boy, 35 lb girl, 12 lb dog, diaper bag, ice pack, water bottles, & lunch for all to Fell park, maybe a mile away. This wasn't too terrible since my miniature dauschund mix, Ollie helped pull as best he could. It was the next leg that hurt. It began after a half hour of playing the part of the Cowardly Lion to my son's version of the Tin Man, my daughter's Dorothy, and of course Toto was there. Then the Tin Man decided we were to follow him "down the yellow brick road" which is also known as "the longest way possible to the Illinois Wesleyan quad" where we had agreed to go to see the huge metal sculptures. Upon arrival, we learned the sculptures are no longer there. The Tin Man started to wail in the pre-nap time way that Wizard of Oz characters do. So I did what was right and lied to my 3 year olds and explained the sculptures had gone for a walk to visit sick children in the hospital. Then I pulled them home in the sun in misery, neither willing to walk, neither willing to refrain from touching the other, both sweaty, whiney messes.
 Now, the redeeming part of this story is this: We did all this without a potty break or accident, except for the dog but those were no accidents.
I was about to Facebook how exciting that was until I realized I was essentially telling everyone I've ever met, "I went for a walk and no one wet their pants." Sometimes my brain temporarily shifts back to pre-kids mode at just the right moment and I'm able to see how different things are now. What excites me now, seems lesser and greater depending so much on perspective. I guess, all I'm sure of is, I can't recall feeling so grateful for so many small accomplishments, especially the ones which must seem miniscule from the outside looking in.