On a good day...

Many people are aware of the fact that I tend to be emotionally labile, even when I'm not pregnant. Any type of strong emotion can bring me to tears in seconds (although I have become rather adept at only breaking down in private). So, when I'm having an emotionally "good day," the little stresses don't bother me quite so easily. On a good day, I could walk into our bathroom to find my 18-month-old sitting in the sink, surrounded by blue children's toothpaste that his older sister helped him finger paint all over the room, and I would not become unglued. On a good day, the gallon of fruit punch Gatorade powder that my lovely children dumped on the floor in my kitchen, dining, and living rooms and proceeded to slide around in, would not have caused me to scream at my kids. On a good day, the fact that neither of my children napped and instead spent the 2 hours alternately playing and crying in their room would have only been a minor inconvenience. On a good day, Bree crying for 10 minutes about putting on socks and shoes to go outside wouldn't faze me. I can handle most anything that my kids throw at me on a good day; nothing they do surprises me, and they're just being kids. But, man, on a bad day, like today, when all of the above happens, I end up asking myself "Why am I having another one again?" Thank goodness for forgiving children (because my crime of screaming at them is worse than their small infractions), for a caring husband (he still doesn't like seeing me cry, but knows that sometimes I just have a bad day or two), and for fast food when nothing could motivate me to cook. And thank goodness I know myself well enough to know that this funk won't last forever. And maybe tomorrow will be a good day.