I spent Sunday trying to recover from Friday night. I am sorry to say that I didn't have a two day hangover from some go crazy binge of alcohol and partying in the city. Nope - I was witness to Madeline pulling her first all nighter. She wasn't necessarily angry all night long but she kept getting fussy and bored and would cry without constant paternal or maternal entertainment. So throughout the night I would sit with her and attempt to provide this entertainment in the form of holding a blue rhinoceros in front of her, holding and rocking, playing with the settings on the many battery operated sleep inducing toys that are all running low on batteries. So by Sunday morning I was ready for a full day of sleep given that we were out and about on Saturday. But Madeline also was happy to make it clear on Sunday that she is not ready for Sunday morning cartoons and prefers that human form to provide proper activities to keep her calm.

So I finally have succumbed to a weary feeling of lack of sleep due to having an infant of my own. We had been proud of ourselves and tried to hide that Madeline was sleeping well and that we had found good tricks like breastfeeding in bed to get us sleep in the first few weeks but whatever consistency we think we can create with a 7:30 PM sleep schedule Madeline can easily break through with a whopper of an all night party on a Friday night.

So I have decided that having an infant of your very own can often be most like driving on a long cross-country driving trip. I'm not talking about a trip where you get to Montreal after six hours and cut loose once you get there. I am talking about a trip where you are driving at 11PM at night and you are lost on the highway two hours away from your hotel. I am talking about a trip where you have to get from Tijuana to Seattle in four days and you can stop only long enough to egg Starbucks headquarters before a four day drive to pick-up some cowboy boots in Austin Texas. The trouble is that you can't take your hands off of the wheel for long. Someone is always responsible for making sure that the baby doesn't starve, burn, cut, freeze, fall, drown, suffocate, dehydrate, stain, bruise, scratch, rash, defenstrate, wither, or bore.

Any attempt to do otherwise will land you, your wife, your parents, and the baby in a fit of crying so loud and piercing that neighbors will explode the building with TNT with you and them in it in order to make it stop. You can try to type or think or make a phone call but it won't work. The baby is in charge and you need to concede defeat and start providing some entertainment or milk. Just keep your hands supporting her head and keep driving all night long. Then maybe you can catch a few winks while your wife lets her wrap her hand around a finger for a few hours on Sunday afternoon.