Death of a Wolf

I usually don't hold a grudge when Connor gets in trouble. He gets time out or whatever, but then I forget about it and move on. But tonight I'm holding a grudge. In addition to missing my old life, my sweatpants, my kids. In addition to feeling like Tristan is so used to my not being around during the day that he doesn't seem to miss me when I'm gone. In addition to not being able to keep up around the house, tonight my circuits are in overload, because today while Connor was having quiet time in his room... although he had pooped before he went up stairs... he pooped while he was supposed to be either quiet or napping and repainted the mural wall with it. I of course was at work during this time, so Jorma did most of the wall washing. It was two hours after I got home before I could even face the damage.
It came off most of the mural pretty well, except for the wolf. The wolf that I spent hours painting now must be repainted because when the poop was cleaned off, much of the paint came with it. The carpet's been steam cleaned and the fecal matter has been removed from the base boards other parts of the wall and the window sill. The clothes have gone into the wash and the entire upstairs smells like poop. Because he opened up a container of cream I had so carelessly left in his room, the upstairs actually smells like poop and oranges. And steam cleaner formula.
I truly believe in the power of forgiveness and I know it's the right thing to do, but tonight, I just want to wallow in my misery, because not only is all of my work lost to poop - of all things, but because I really want to repaint it and I just don't have the time.
I'm so fucking bummed out.