Year 1, Day 289

Dear Boss,

A few months ago, I wrote you an apology letter describing the reasons why I am habitually 10 minutes late to work everyday.  As Jackson has matured immensely since then, and I am arriving to work on time now, I thought it best to update you on my current reasons for my mid afternoon nap. Though you are not in the business of being a Nosy Nellie, I find it best for you to have an honest portrayal of life AFTER work, so that you can see why my eyes glaze over around 2 in the afternoon, and I am unable to be the productive employee that you hired 6 years ago. Thank you for your flexibility and understanding.

Jackson's screaming/crying causes me temporary hearing damage during our hour long commute home each day, so by the time we settle in as a family, I am deaf for the first hour or so upon arrival.  Easy to tune him out in that case, I make supper while Mike entertains the little one.  After toiling over a home cooked meal, Jackson throws the majority on the floor and asks for ice cream. Chocolate ice cream. It is my fault. It is all I gave him in the womb. However, I do not concede. A tantrum begins.

Assuming warm water and an opportunity to pour it out all over the floor will make him happy, we plop him a bath. A half hour later, I slip in a puddle, suffer a contusion, and carry my martyr self to the bedroom.  It's time to read books.

I read truck books so many times that I can recite every vehicle that exists on the face of this earth and beyond. From articulated haulers to suction excavators, I know my stuff. I no longer have room in my brain for admission statistics and the names of families I met yesterday. I apologize if this causes any great inconvenience for you or the mission of our school.

We watch "CHOO CHOOs" as a family. Thomas the Train is most often described as rather "daff" (to act the part of a fool as I soon found out after googling). I know that you are not a fool. You are well aware that if you can't find me at 2:00 in the afternoon, I am more than likely pulling a George Costanza  (you can find me under my desk.)

Under my desk is where I find a moment of solace in a hectic, but fulfilling day.  So while I have become prompt in my arrival to work, I have taken upon myself to adopt the siesta lifestyle in order to make up for the evening prior.  Thank you for being so flexible. When Jackson turns 2, I promise I will make up for my unproductivity.

Gratefully,
Kristy