Fo' Real

My husband's job sucks sometimes. Like now. He left sometime before 6 this morning and it's now 8:34 with no sign of him. This is day three of him not seeing his son and I KNOW he's hating it. I just feel bad for him. I mean, no offense to those of you who put in long hours at a desk, but it just isn't the same thing. He is physically exhausted after days like this, let alone the mental gymnastics. Hopefully this was the last upgrade ride for a while. And to put it in further perspective for you: he called home at 11:10 this morning to tell me he was back on the ground. That's right, they've spent the last nine hours discussing a single sortie. Glad it's not me.

*****breaking news! He just called and is on his way home!!!!

Now about me. Why am I so darn tired at the end of the day? Because really? I don't DO anything that should make me tired. I mean, yeah, I wash bottles about 6 times a day (and through the night), prepare little bowls of "solids" that go uneaten at least twice a day, change many diapers, let Millie out about 12 times a day, run a variety of errands, do a load of laundry almost every day (although if I would just complete a load instead of leaving it somewhere in the process overnight, I could probably reduce that), and figure out how to entertain an infant for hours on end every day, but how does that leave me feeling like I've actually physically exerted myself? I don't get it. And the little nagging voice in the back of my head tells me that if I would actually exercise, I'd end up with more energy. Sometimes little voices are overrated.

Don't worry. The little voice of my little boy is definitely not overrated which is why I won't be requesting a job change any time soon. I'll just be here, running myself ragged for no tangible benefits, waiting to see what tricks Wyatt does tomorrow.