90 Minutes

There's an episode of "Battlestar Galactica" called "33" (nerd alert!) that I am reminded of every day. In it the heroes have to jump away from the bad guys who always appear after 33 minutes. My evil cylons are Jack's fussy meltdowns and my time limit is 90 minutes. 90 minutes of awake time between naps. Naps where I hold him the whole time. 90 minutes. That's all he can do and that's all I can get.

90 minutes to go from this...

...to this.

At first glance, 90 minutes may seem reasonable, but let's break it down. The first 30 minutes after his nap are spent unswaddling and breastfeeding and changing his diaper. The last 15 minutes before he goes down for his nap are filled with fussiness and rubbing of the eyes. So that leaves 45 minutes in between. And that's not 45 minutes where he'll play on his activity mat or sit in his swing. Because the little guy likes to be held. So 45 minutes. Well, I can usually grab something to eat. Or go to the bathroom. We can make short trips to the grocery store or Starbucks or if I'm feeling adventurous, Target. But in LA, driving anywhere can easily take 30 minutes each way. Or, like my trip the other day to my old office, the drive took one hour and the minute we got there he melted down as everyone went to greet him. So, 90 minutes, it's not much. Doesn't leave a lot of room to do things or go places.

I have been frustrated with this, only because I see so many other babies his age who don't have this same problem. They can play at our playgroup in the park for hours with no fussing. Or they can fall asleep for a nap anywhere and without help. But that's just not our little guy. And I think I realize that we don't have one of those babies. And that gradually that 90 minutes will become 100 then 2 hours then more. And then I'll miss all those naps.