The Relativity of a Good Day

I do not believe in relativism. When it comes to morality, good and bad are black and white. No room for interpretation. But the past three days have shown me that when describing what my day was like once it comes to a close, perception and perspective are everything.
On Tuesday I took Ellie to the Children's Museum, and we had a lovely time together (yay). I had invited friends to come too, as a playdate, but no one made it (ugh). I think it worked out for the best, because it gave Ellie and me some much-needed focused one-on-one playtime together (yay), and playdates are fun but distracting. During lunch there, my flipflop broke, so I had to fix it with a rubber band and some masking tape that I found on a craft table (ugh). We both took long naps once we got home (yay), and then we got a knock on our door. Our neighbor came by to let us know that there was water flowing from somewhere in our yard toward the street (ugh). Turned out we had a busted pipe (ugh). I called Paul, and he was almost home, so he checked it out and called the water company. I freaked out because there was a wasp in our house, and I never did find it to kill it (ugh), but it never attacked us either (yay). Then I got dinner ready and we ate. The water company guy came but told us it was our problem, not theirs, so Paul headed out to try and fix it on his own (double ugh). Ellie and I played outside for a while, then Paul came back inside to ask me to go get some cash because the water guy came back after he was off the job and said he'd help us out. I took the munchkin with me to get the cash, and we stopped for a snow cone on our way back (yay). So we got the problem fixed (yay), but not without mud getting tracked all over the carpet (ugh). It was my turn to put Ellie to bed, so I did, and at the end of the day, after her sweet "I love you", I didn't even think to add up all the "yays" and "ughs", and just called it a tiring but good day.
On Wednesday, we had another busy morning planned. We went to the park for a while and played outside with friends (yay), then we headed to a dance studio to see if Ellie wanted to take a week-long dance camp. She was absolutely enthralled, so we signed her up (yay). Then we headed home for lunch with a quick stop at Target to price out leotards and Payless shoes to price out dance shoes. At that point, she was tired and hungry (as was I), so she politely asked for some goldfish to eat. I told her I had none but that we could buy some at Target, so once I had gathered the pricing information I needed, I picked up a new pair of flipflops for me and a small carton of goldfish for her and headed to the checkout. Then she decided to try to stand up while strapped in her stroller, putting her feet on the wheels, and ignoring my requests for her to stop (ugh). So I told her if she didn't listen, she wouldn't be getting her goldfish. She must've thought I was joking, because she ignored me (ugh). So I put them back on the shelf. And the screaming began (UGH). Yes, I was one of those parents, the one who gets "the look" from total strangers (ugh), and I couldn't figure out if it was pity or judgment that fell upon me, but I ignored the crying, paid for my shoes, tilted up the stroller (because her feet STILL weren't off the wheels-UGH), and marched her out of the door, leaving the goldfish behind. I was livid, but not too mad to head into Payless shoes to see if they had tap and ballet shoes, which they did, and by the time we made it into the store, the screaming had stopped, and I even got an "I'm sorry mommy" (yay!). We tried on some shoes, took note of the price, and after more prodding and negotiating, got out of the store intact (whew). Home for lunch and nap. At this point, I'd think the exhausted child would go right to sleep, but that was not the case. Not at all. All I could hear was the opening and closing of bedroom and bathroom doors, and after almost an hour, the call of "mommy! Mommy!" (ugh), so up I go, to find just about every bath toy Ellie owns strewn about her bed (ugh). I sternly told her that it was not time to play, that bath toys are only for the bath, and that she needed to go to sleep, which she did sometime later. I napped too (yay), but just for a little bit, and then I made dinner. After naptime, I filled up Ellie's pool, and we had fun in the backyard (yay). I talked with my mom on the phone, got soaked by a splashing kid, and all was well (yay). Then Paul called to tell me he would not be coming home for dinner because he was going with work guys after a long all-day meeting (ugh). I had known he'd be home late, but I was still expecting him for dinner, which is why I bothered to cook anything at all. So much for that (ugh). So Ellie and I ate dinner together, then went back outside to play in the mulch and "dig for dino bones" (yay). She even wore her dino explorer hat! We had fun until the mosquitoes started to bite, then we came inside and watched a show and played. Suddenly, in the middle of playing, she rushed to the bathroom, with her hands on her bottom, and went potty. I thought nothing of it, since she is pretty good about going potty all on her own. I even heard her flush and wash her hands, but then she came out wearing only panties and no shorts, so I asked her where they were. Then the tears came (uh oh). She had a bit of an accident, and it was VERY messy (ugh). Of course it wasn't her fault, and she was so upset! Poor sweetheart. I comforted her, cleaned her up and took her up for her bath, and then we read books and did our bedtime routine, which all went fine, though she has been getting more difficult to settle down lately, and just as I was finishing up with our snuggles, Paul got home and snuggled her up a little bit too (yay). So despite the frustrations of poop everywhere, last minute dinner plan changes and an embarrasingly stubborn child, I decided Wednesday was a good day.
Thursday, Paul went into work late and picked up some donuts for a family breakfast (yay). Ellie was so excited! After he left, we went to the gym and then to get her fitted properly for her dance shoes. She loved wearing the tap shoes, and tapped up a storm while trying them on (yay), which was adorable! She even wanted to try on a bug fluffy purple tutu, which she wore all around the store. Then it was home for lunch and nap. We both slept again, but she woke earlier than I would have liked, and I spent the rest of the afternoon feeling groggy and useless (ugh). I honestly don't remember specifics from yesterday, aside from the fact that I was not feeling great, and I had to be a "single parent" at bedtime--again--because Paul had a Knights of Columbus meeting. So I was just feeling beaten down, tired, spread too thin, achy, lonely... I guess all the "ughs" had started to add up and take their toll. My positive attitude had run out, and it didn't help that Ellie was increasingly more difficult to deal with, between her resistance at sleeping times, and her constant questioning of "why?" to every. single. thing. that I said to her. It just wore me down, and the final straw came when I tried, fruitlessly, to read bedtime stories and settle Ellie down. She wouldn't listen, so I followed through with my threats, and walked out of her room as she sat in the corner, screaming and crying. I sat on the stairs, halfway down, and just broke down. I didn't even know Paul had gotten home, and he headed upstairs to try to settle her down. I went downstairs to wash the dishes and cry. I hadn't had a good cry in a while, and though it sucked, I felt better afterwards. I wouldn't call yesterday a good day by any stretch of the imagination, but when I compare it to the previous days, it really was no better or worse. So why did I feel like I had been run over by an emotional truck?
My attitude slowly changed over the past few days. I won't even begin to describe today, save to say that I spent many fleeting moments praying for God to help me have a more positive approach. But both Paul and I were out of patience by the end of the day, and so was Ellie after no nap. So the good parts (our trip to Walmart and lunch at Chick-fil-a), pretty much vanished by dinnertime, and the last sounds we heard our exhausted girl make tonight were sobs. Sigh.
I know she's testing the limits, as all self-respecting three-year-olds tend to do. I know that I am just getting more tired as this pregnancy progresses. I know that Paul's impending Africa trip affects our psyches weeks before he even leaves. I know these things, but I can't keep myself from feeling the frustration, exhaustion, and sadness that all these things bring. So as the days go by, it seems that the tiniest things determine whether or not a day was good... tonight, my sciatica is acting up again, and so are my round ligament pains, so I'll let you determine if today was good or not. Bed beckons.