60 minutes

60 minutes. I'm missing about 1 hour of sleep a day while R. is in Dienst (military service), and it's amazing how much it matters. I just spent an hour reviewing back issues of a magazine I'm considering submitting to, to see if their style fits my style, and I can't remember a thing I looked at. In the next room I can hear Small Boy and Grossmütti (R's mom) playing. It's their regular Thursday gig. Grossmütti walks in the door and Small Boy takes one look at her and smiles and points to the stereo - she plays a lot of Baby Mozart for him. The theory is I'm getting some work done while they play, but my eyes are glazing over and I should probably just take a nap.

60 minutes. Who knew?

R. usually takes Small Boy, who's an early-to-bed-early-to-rise kind of boy, in the mornings. When Small Boy wakes, R. goes and gets him and brings him back to bed where I nurse him; when he's done, R. takes him out of the bedroom and spends the morning with him until it's time to leave for work. R. does the first diaper change of the day, feeds him his Morgenbrei (morning cereal) (because although I'm still nursing him my supply low and he needs additional food in the morning), plays with him. Depending on when Small Boy wakes and what R's schedule is that morning, this can give me anywhere from 45 to 75 additional minutes in bed. Let's say an hour. It's only been two mornings and I'm wiped out. I miss my hour!

It makes me wonder, how wiped out is R. all the time? Yet he keeps taking the morning shift, letting me roll over and burrow back under the covers. Yeah, he's a keeper.