I was doing well, really I was. Especially with the amount of stress I've been under trying to get everything done: I lost the better part of a month due to Duckie's play, then we've been booked solid between activities and other stuff. Duckie's been a pill: overtired, cranky, asthma kicked up. I get it: she doesn't feel well. So we used her 4 foot artificial Christmas tree in the children's pageant on Sunday, brought it home that afternoon. I worked on cookies that afternoon, picked up our sty of a house and went to a concert with husband that evening. I cooked, ran errands and shopped yesterday. I absolutely needed to get my cookie tins/platters taken care of last night. She complained because I couldn't get the family room cleaned up and her tree set up so we could decorate it. She had a fit. And then I had a fit. Good grief!