Today was not a morning of victory. A baby pulling open cabinets over and over (and over) while I tried to brush my teeth and pee, a fussy baby who wouldn't let me put her down while I tried to eat the breakfast I was ravenous for, an extra-early wake-up, etc, etc.
When Lucy balked at the clothes she'd asked for my help choosing, I lost it. I yelled, and I contemplating throwing things.
Lovely. They're clothes, honey.
A few minutes later, we left the house. We went to a nearby park, and the sky was blue, and the grass kelly-green, and the sun was warm but the air cool and Lucy found herself friends across the playground, and I thanked my sweet Lord for the outside.
And by the time we came home, it was naptime.
Sweet victory.
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