Dear Daycare Ladies,
About a week ago, I was crafting a love letter to you all. Every time I dropped in on you, Baby D was being cradled in someone's arms or playing well with older babies under your supervision. I wanted to throw my arms around you and kiss your plump cheeks for making up sweet little nicknames for my sweet little boy. This week, not so much. I suppose its just "working mother's guilt" that is getting to me, but I almost threw the back of my hand against my forehead and let my knees buckle under my suited body when I heard that you let my little angel cry for a few minutes while you tended to other children. I mean, had the cute little one year old not been occupying the nearest highchair, I would have used it to break a dramatic fall. What about the pizza lunches I treated everyone to? Doesn't that buy my little sweetheart some VIP minutes?
Now, if you didn't know, Baby D hardly ever cries. He shrieks, squeaks, growls and doo-wops, but he rarely cries. You've disclosed to me that his favorite ersatz lap-lady is now in the toddler section so that may explain it. New daycare lady, I'm giving you a few more weeks (and maybe a dozen donuts and coffee for breakfast) to win Baby D over. If I hear that my precious little babe sheds one tear from inattention, I'm pulling him out. And taking the ersatz lap-lady from the toddler room with me.
Lawyer Mom Thinking of Becoming a Teacher Purely for Summers Off with Baby D