Mother. Of. God.
Yesterday ranks as one of the worst days of my life. I was a puddle of tears by 3:30. Four-year-olds defeated me.
But they did not defeat me today. Well, not entirely. I have two that are especially fractious - one that might have something a little off upstairs, and another who's just oppositional. Not "just," I suppose. He called me a bitch. He's four, remember.
So this will be a challenge.
I still hate my body, but at least I'm not thinking about it from 8:40-3:30.