It’s 4am on Friday and Oliver just woke up. He’s crying for his Dads’ who are both awake but pretending to be asleep and ignoring his pleas. Neither Chris nor I say anything to each other. We just lay there pretending not to hear him and feeling extremely guilty. What if his diaper is wet? What if he rolled onto his stomach and he can’t roll back? What if those spots on his thigh where he received the shots yesterday are bothering him and he just needs to be loved on?

I think to myself that I can listen to this for 10-15 minutes then I’ll get up to help him regardless. It’s now 4:15 and he’s still at it. Not really a full on cry, but lots of moaning and groaning. I figure I’ll wait until 4:30 and then I’ll definitely run in there. Papi and I still haven’t said anything to each other. He can’t be sleeping through this, can he? Why can’t we talk about how this makes us feel? (I don’t know, maybe because it’s 4am?)

It’s 4:20am and the moans have softened to a purr. He’s back asleep by 4:22am. I however am not. I get up to go check on Oliver now. I need to know he’s not on his stomach and not sitting in his own feces. Papi speaks! He tells me to let him sleep and not to wake him. (Did he really think that I wasn’t sticking to the plan all this time? Did he think I did not hear Oliver moaning for the past 20 minutes?) I sneak in and look at him regardless.

Oliver is on his side, back arched and head tilted back to keep from lying in the huge wet spot on his mattress created from his own drool. He looks totally uncomfortable, but at the least he’s breathing. I carefully adjust him, cover him back up and tuck him in before going back to bed.

Once I am back in bed, Chris is already back to sleep (or pretending to be), and I continue to stare at the ceiling. I’m now thinking about everything I probably should not be thinking about at 4:30 in the morning: My friends and their crazy lives; The war in Iraq, or whatever the administration is calling it these days; The numbers of soldiers that have died or been injured; the fact that ABC News finally showed images of the flag-covered coffins on the airplanes that contained the dead; Why is every terrorist who is captured these days called “the most wanted”? I thought Osama was the “most wanted”? Didn't Kaysar from Big Brother kind of get all terroristy on Maggies ass last week? I think about the fact that I have not seen many of my friends lately; I hope they are well and that they are not staying away because we are now parents; Are they lying awake at night thinkng about me? I think about the usual work issues; I think about whether or not the Toyota Prius really should be able to drive in the carpool lane even when only one passenger is aboard? Seriously, isn’t it better for that car to sit in traffic? That is when it’s actually electric. It’s better for the environment if that car is idle, no? Am I the only one that thinks the new Pope has something evil in him? Maybe it’s his past involvement with the Hitler Youth thing… I’m not sure.

All these thoughts run through my head until around 5:50am when I hear that familiar cry again from the other room—or at least the build up to a cry. Like a stealth bomber I swoop in, roll him onto his back, change his super-soaked diaper, re-cork him with his pacifier, cover him up and exit the room as he immediately falls back asleep before even knowing what hit him. I return to bed, Papi is still asleep, or doing a damn good job of pretending. It’s getting lighter outside, and I have been up since 4am, why should I try and sleep now? The Kid will be waking for real soon enough.

I wonder if this is what life will be like from now on. If I will constantly be taking care of this little boy without him even knowing that I was there. Did he know I was home with him for three months? Does he remember that I was there waiting for him when he was born? I wonder if the lack of sleep is only the first of many sacrifices I will have to make in order to see that he is raised well. I think about this now at 7:10 am with my cup of tea, awaiting Oliver’s awakening and these thoughts make me smile. Come on kid, wake up already! I am ready to play with you. Of course he decides to sleep in today until 8 am. After I have been up for hours making home-made apple sauce for him. Damn he's cute when he just wakes up! It's all so worth it.