It’s 2 or 3 o’clock in the afternoon and the breakfast dishes still aren’t done, there is a load of laundry in the washer from yesterday, the kids are in the bath crying, and daddy will be home expecting a nice dinner soon. You sigh to yourself and look in the mirror. A lop-sided ponytail and tired eyes look back at you. You have a choice. Hold a grudge against the house, your kids, your..