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I just typed out a whole post about how absolutely terrible my evening was. It was 105 degrees, Landon screamed almost non-stop from the moment we got home, my cul-de-sac was taken over by emergency vehicles and my neighbor tried to kill herself and may have succeeded. It was horrible and I threw Landon at JP when he finally got home from coaching and burst into tears on the driveway.

But I don't want to publish that post. The Landon stuff, while frustrating as all hell, is temporary, and my neighbor's story is too awful and not mine to tell. And after writing out the whole thing I cried again, cuddled with JP, watched The Fashion Show, and decided not to share any of it with you. Not because it isn't important or because I'm not still affected by what I saw, but because I think sometimes you have to choose to focus on the good, the little things - the frivilous.

And today, the bulk of it, was actually a really great day. Work is good, the assignments are interesting, the flexibility is real. I wore heels again and an outfit that made me feel good (the shirt below, black pants, white cropped jacket). I like what I'm doing. I went to a real salon with a real stylist (I'm normally a quick trim at the mall kind of girl) and lost nearly 6 inches of hair. I told the stylist I wanted to look like an attorney -- a young attorney, but not a swimmer or a student any longer. I told him I had to be able to style it in under 5 minutes with a toddler attached to one leg and two dogs running in circles around me if necessary. And I still had to be able to pull it back in a rubber band. And then I closed my eyes and let him do his thing. And I think I like it.

I don't hate it and the reaction at work was overwhelmingly positive. In fact, two partners stopped by my office to say they'd heard there was a great haircut nearby, so that felt good. I left work after a happy hour feeling light-hearted and happy and then felt it chip away when Landon started a continuous stream of raging tantrums as soon as we left the daycare center. And then he choked and stopped breathing on some graham cracker honey bees in the back yard right before I locked us out of the house. And then a fire truck, ambulance, and four police cars took over my cul-de-sac.

And now I wonder if I should publish this draft either because I've gone and ended up talking about some of the bad and maybe frivolity doesn't belong. But it must- because I tried to type an all somber email and felt it was too heavy to share, and then I tried typing this one and still ended up including the sad. It was just an odd day and the awful ending doesn't eliminate the happy beginning and apparently I need to share both.