Don't Act Like You Don't Hear The Baby Crying!

It's amazing what a lack of sleep will do to a person. I don't know about you, but no sleep for me equals psychopath. Well, psychopath is a bit strong of a word. I'll go with lunatic.
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Oh, those middle of the night arguments.

Yes, I'm talking 1:30 a.m. when our 10-month-old son starts crying for his bottle... and my wife and I both clearly hear him, but we're waiting to see who will turn over first to acknowledge this cry heard around the world.

We both know that if we wait too long (meaning over one minute), then there's a chance that our 4-year-old son in the next room may hear the baby and wake up, too. If that were to happen, we might as well order a pizza, blast the radio and bust out the wine, because it's now a party of four. Funny thing, though; I never get the chance to RSVP, "No, I will not attend."

It's amazing what a lack of sleep will do to a person. I don't know about you, but no sleep for me equals psychopath. Well, psychopath is a bit strong of a word. I'll go with lunatic.

Every new parent knows that as soon as you've brought home your new baby, you've just kicked your regular sleeping pattern to the curb. Gone are the days of being bright-eyed and bushy-tailed... unless you hit up Starbucks at the crack of dawn for a Trenta-sized cup of joe. I know, and you thought a Venti got you going!

So, back to these late-night duke-it-out moments. Usually at 1:30 a.m., in the pitch dark, I'll turn over to see if there's any movement on my wife's side of the bed. It's like I can feel her gaze staring at me even though her eyes are shut. I'll then give up and say, "OK, I'll get him." Then not-so-surprisingly, she stretches and says mid-yawn, "Oh, OK. Are you sure? I was just about to get up." That's odd... five seconds ago, you were dead to the world in a supposed deep sleep.

So then starts the back and forth of, "Well, I was up at 11 p.m. when he was crying because of his teething." Then my response, "Well, I got up at 12:30 to rock him a little, too." It's like a competition at that point. And usually, I lose.

I know we can't be the only couple that goes through this. In fact, I've casually brought up the subject of these late night fights to friends of mine who also have young kids and newborns, and they're like, "Oh my God, that sounds like us."

The best part? Once morning arrives and my wife and I meet up at our Keurig machine to get caffeinated, you'd never know that there were any words exchanged during the night. Seriously, it's like it never happened. Think rules of Fight Club: What happens in the bedroom at 1:30 a.m. stays in the bedroom at 1:30 a.m. Yes, there may be dark circles and serious bags under our eyes, but it's a good thing we start fresh every morning or we'd have serious issues.

And I've always found it interesting that the second the coffee starts pouring into my mug, it's the baby's cue to wake up and start yelling for us. Like, no joke... as the first drop hits the cup. I swear our little one has a secret camera fixated on our coffee maker. When our 4-year-old was that age... same thing. Come on, parents... does this happen to any of you guys, too?

Minutes later, the caffeine has kicked in. Dad is ready to combat whatever comes his way. Dirty diaper, teething drama, a half-chewed banana being chucked from the high chair, stepping on a Lego in the middle of the hallway that might as well be a shard of glass, an accidental baby finger poking me in the eye... go ahead, make my day. And please, make me another cup of coffee while you're at it.