When I'm having a crabby day, I sometimes imagine being the garbage collector. You sit in your car, use the robotic arm, and get waved at by kids throughout the neighborhood. Except when their moms come outside and shake their fists at you for being too loud and cutting a nap short (to which I say, the trash truck comes at almost the same time every week, perhaps it's time to change your kid's nap time.)
Last night as we were talking before bed time, I told Ellie that today was a going to preschool day. She informed me that she was going to cry, and cry she did at drop off. But when I came back for pick up, she was sitting in one of the little chairs, happily eating her lunch. Someone else's little angel was busily screaming his head off instead. Of course, the second Ellie caught sight of me, she burst into tears, but then she also told me she didn't want to go home. I think we're all going to survive! And learn! And thrive!