I usually get upset. I shoulder the blame. I get very upset because things did not happen perfectly. Tonight, I snuck on some lingerie under my sweat pants and was waiting for the right moment to share with my H. Before that moment could happen, my 2 yr old walked into the living room, crawled into my lap, laid his head on my chest and emptied the contents of his stomach all over me and my surprise attire. Typically, this would have destroyed my evening. I would have flipped from anger to tears as easily as a light switch flips from off to on. But tonight, I wasn't. I took care of my son. I cleaned us both up and got the whole mess of clothes into the washer. I got him back to bed and took a good, scrubbing shower and spent the rest of the late evening relaxing with my H. He's in the shower now and instead of crying and feeling guilty about what went wrong, I'm here, waiting to see what else will go right.