Getting everyone ready to go is always stressful, trying to convince them all to get dressed without anyone killing each other. The best part is always hunting down four pairs of shoes, because God forbid we ever take our shoes off in the same place twice. I have absolutely no idea what would happen if we did that, but I have fantasies of how pleasant it might be.
Then Josh refused to even talk to the therapist, and wouldn't let me leave the room, so the poor therapist (who is a sweetheart, by the way) had to sit and beg Josh to talk while the two little kids made as MUCH noise as humanly possible (why on earth would she have LOUD toys in there?).
I got to sit in the waiting room with the world's WORST children (not the ones I brought with me; they were fairly manageable up to that point, actually). I wanted to go around slapping some sense into all the children, and their parents too, for raising such monsters. I know they are there for a reason, and it's probably because they are especially difficult children, but today there was zero tolerance in my brain.

Long story short, it was a huge waste of the entire day. It's a good thing I'm not an alcoholic, because this would be the part where I drink myself into oblivion if I were.
I know most of this is in my head. Kids are just being kids, and really they were probably not worse than usual... my anxiety is just making everything feel worse than it is again.
Even the girl with the adorable, brand new, 6-lb baby was making me angry. She came in (way too skinny to have a brand new baby) and made all the employees ooh and ahh loudly over the contents of the car seat. Yeah. That's where I'm at right now. I hate babies today.
All I want in the world is a little bit of time to lay quietly with the lights off and come down from this high-anxiety place. Instead, I will go make dinner and clean up after the kids I [usually] adore, while I curse Mother Nature for making two weeks out of each month Hormone Hell.
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