Dear Daycare

Dear Childcare Worker Person

First of all, thank you.

Thank you for watching the Pres-ler this week, all those hours that you did.  He was happy on Thursday afternoon despite the shitty diaper he'd been sitting around in.  And when I arrived to get him today and some other boy twice his age was dragging him around by his pant leg, he hardly cried at all. I saw firsthand this weekend the hours you ladies work. There's a LOT of baby-ness craziness that goes on in that place in the afternoons, and man, kudos to you.  I barely cope with one, so I dunno how you do it all day long.

Thank you for providing care even though, technically because I was at home this week with no real plans or obligations, I didn't need Presley to be in day care at all. Thank you for giving me that break.  Want to know what I did for roughly half my hours of freedom ? I alternated between sleeping and dozy daydreams, in a darkened room with a heater blanket on.  Four hours. I think I'll call it cocooning.  And man do you come out of it feeling like a different person!

3 p.m. on my second day of cocooning was when my guilt caught up with me.  Rather abruptly too, sneaky bastard.  One minute I was fine, the next I was all "What am I doing leaving my bubba on the other side of town so I can watch afternoon t.v.?" and "Where are my car keys?"

Motherhood, Child Care Worker Person will actually change the way logic works for you. Be warned.

Anyway, thanks for the break from reality, the chance to laze around and knit like a mutha-fucka when I was awake.  I think you're underpaid as a profession, but I'm still upset about your accidentally charging us full price for 3 weeks and never saying a goddamn word about it.  Its an internal conflict.

Thanks to whoever taught him to blow raspberry kisses today. That one's super cute :)