You know you are having One of Those Days when you arrive at work and those two words are going through your head. Specifically, today: I have a cold and possibly mastitis. Baby -- who as far as I'm concerned should be sleeping through the night, and is, sort of -- has developed his first cold, poor dear, although that doesn't keep him from giving me his adorable, lopsided grin when he wakes up -- at 11:15, 2:07, 4:41, and 5:17. Our Indespensible Nanny arrives at work this morning and has a cold, too, on top of the fact that the severe thunderstorms overnight caused her kitchen ceiling to flood and cave in. Really, "cave in" are the words she used. Eldest Child and Middle Child are off to two different camps at two different times, and did I mention that the kitchen construction has become the project that ate our checkbook, our home equity loan, our marriage and now, apparently, my health?

Of course, there are moments of comedy. To wit: when, at 7:15 a.m., Eldest and I are looking out the back windows at the pool (love/hate situation, came with the house, source of anxiety and ridiculous financial outlay for maintenance), when a not-small skunk emerges from the bushes, runs along the edge of the pool, and falls in. Eldest and I root for him as we watch him struggle at the edge and finally, thank God, pull himself up and stagger away. (I fleetingly wonder if I'm going to have to go rescue him, remembering what a former farmer once told me, which is that skunks have to do a little hop to spray, and surely he can't hop when he's swimming.) Most Loyal Dog (this photo is from the Product Hall of Fame story that ran in the magazine last March) is finishing up his breakfast (total time to inhale: 25 seconds) and has to pee. Eldest lets him out and I silently plead pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease let him not go after that (no doubt extremely mad and vulnerable) skunk. We dodge the bullet on that one and MLD comes back in, looking for food or at least someone to pet him, for pete's sake.

All the while there are various sorts of vans pulling up at the house with men who need to do various, expensive things inside. I'm still in my pajamas and wondering if I've got time to breastfeed one more time before I have to leave for the train, and if I'm going to be interrupted as I was yesterday morning by the footsteps of an electrician coming up the stairs.

On the chaos meter, I'd give today an 8 on the scale of 1-10. I finally get on the train, which is not running according to schedule because of extensive track flooding, and go through the mental Why I'm Lucky list: my kids are healthy, my marriage is healthy (for now; we'll see how it looks at the end of the renovation), and the chaos created by a kitchen renovation is truly a First World "problem." Complaining about renovating your kitchen is like complaining that your diamond engagement ring is too small -- both problems borne out of luxury, and both situations you've brought upon yourself.

But despite my manifold blessings, I do hope tomorrow morning is a bit less, shall we say, FULL.