Three Hours

My life now exists in three hour increments. Jack is sleeping, I have three hours. Jack just ate, I have three hours.
If you asked me two months ago I would have told you how long three hours was. I can take care of whatever I would need to with that much time. Three hours was forever.
The reality is that three hours are hardly ever enough. I feel like I am always running, to keep the bottles washed, to keep the dishes done, to keep the living room and kitchen from turning into larger areas of destruction. I'll be changing Jack's diaper and realize I need to open a new pack to put in the organizer. "Oh" I think to myself "I have plenty of time before I'll need to change him again. I'll just do it later when he's laying down". Yes, I am terribly naiive and innocent. At least when it comes to the reality of babies.
Jack turned 6 weeks this past weekend, and for most new mothers this is when they return to work. I look around at all I have to do, and how much I doubt I'll ever get done, and I cannot imagine if I had to work on top of it. All praise Joe and his desire and ability to support us and let me be Jack's mommy.