Stress Relief

Dear Ishmael,

I've never been much of a "Dear Diary" girl, let alone a diary writer at all. But looking back, that's exactly what this blog has become. I have to say whether anyone reads this or not it provides a much needed stress relief during my A.M. break. So I'm taking advice from Mr. Melville and I'm going to 'Call you Ishmael.'

The second day of my mental slump has arrived, with a stormy outlook. I feel a bit on edge, but am unsure why. Perhaps it is the anticipation of handing back the responsibility of the CIO's schedule to her regular secretary tomorrow upon her return from vacation, or the fact that after my prenatal appointment tonight, I have nothing left for evening activities this week.

Granted, Jeff will be parked in front of the TV for his new addiction of Husker basketball tomorrow night, but I'll jump that hurdle when I get there.

The latest installment of The Alaina Chronicles was a humorous mention from yesterday.

Since Alaina's Val's Day party was delayed because of the snow on Friday, I figured that the catch up event would occur Yesterday. Apparently I was the only parent who felt this way, because I was one of the few that brought their treats in. The teachers get chocolate, while the kids get temporary tatoos. Am I a practical Mommy, or just a mean one? ; )

So the cute little purple bag that all of her treats for said teachers/classmates was left on a high shelf at daycare to wait for the party today. Somewhere during the day, Alaina realized that the contents of this bag were treats.
Not just any treats, but treats that her Mommy had brought which could only mean that they belonged to her.

She realized 15 minutes after we arrived at home that the treats had not accompanied us.

Up until this moment I didn't know that she knew what was in the bag until she asked for her purple bag of treats. I explained they were at daycare and that we would not be going back to get them, then all I could do was laugh at my daughter's attempts to pout in the corner.

You see, she had picked a rather unfortunate corner to pout in.

Jeff and I could see her sneaking glances to check how her efforts were progressing.

Our laughter led to a full out pouting session.

Even that cat was amused. Kitty proceeded to stalk Alaina as she would peek around her little corner. With every peek, kitty crept a few inches closer. Thankfully the pouting session ended before that cat went in for "the kill."

Alaina's father deserved an honorable mention from yesterday too, although I didn't find it humorous at the time.

I have no idea where he found them, but Alaina said she wanted hotdogs for supper. Jeff asked if we had any. For once, I knew the answer because we had just bought a new package last week.

So I left him to prepare her dinner as I prepped to go to my parttime job.

When I came back, the room smelled like feet and he was feeding her a hotdog that was very obviously not a red Fairbury Dog from the new package I had brought home.

I have no idea where he found that hotdog, but when i asked what smelled like stinky dead feet. He held up the plate of hotdogs.

And Alaina was already eating them.

I asked him why he didn't throw it away, and can you guess what his answer was?

"But she's eating them."

Ewwww!

She hadn't gotten more that one bite in before Mommy came to the rescue and brought a new hotdog from the new package to satisfy her tastebuds.

Thankfully she hasn't appeared to have any digestive repercussions from the stinky dead feet dog.

Anywho, its off to finish the work day. If things go well, Alaina and I will be going to visit Grams tonight, a follow up to the guilt-inducing-call from Grams on Sunday as Alaina and I were in the grocery store.

She is either very good at those calls, or I'm just easily rattled. Either way, I hope I can achieve that kind of power over my grandkids when I'm her age.

Take care Ishmael.