High: Walking into the boys' room first thing in the morning to be greeted by gigantic, groggy smiles and high-pitched giggles.
Low: Sitting on the bedroom floor in front of my mirror (the outlets in our only bathroom have not worked for five years) trying to apply eyeliner while Ryan repeatedly hops in and out of my lap, yanking my hair to stabilize himself in the process (causing my head to bobble as if I were a dashboard toy) while Jacob is dangling dirty socks in front of my face (and blocking my mirror view) begging me over and over to smell them. It's a miracle any eyeliner comes within a millimeter of my eyes.
High: Kissing my two sweet boys goodbye and sniffing in one last whiff of their baby-shampooed heads as I rush off to work.
High: Walking in the door after work to be greeted by loud happy cries of "Mama! Mama! Mama!" With two pairs of arms bear hugging my legs and torso before I can even get my shoes off.
Low: Exactly 45 seconds after the bear hugs end, Ryan angrily empties an entire bag of fish crackers on the floor because I refuse to give him a sucker, Jacob is pouting and stomping his feet loudly across the floor screaming, "I WANT TO WATCH JEOPARDY!," neither child will finish his dinner, Ryan's tantrum turns into major diva drama as he flings his pathetic body on the floor and cries loudly into the fake hardwood, and at that precise moment, I walk into my room to discover that SOMEONE has emptied the contents of my make-up bag and colored all over my walls with eyeliner.
Low: I fall into the toilet trying to take a pee because SOMEONE forgot to close the toilet lid.
Low: A sticky, half-sucked-on sucker has wrapped itself in my favorite sweater.
Low: Poop. On. The. Floor. (Not mine.)
High: Ending the night with a much-needed Naked Dance Party