Selective Hearing

It's a little after 4 a.m. Sound asleep, I become vaguely aware of a sound. It's a familiar sound, and it easily incorporates itself into my dream.

It continues for a while - how long I cannot tell. But at some point, the subconscious mind finally yields to the conscious, and recognition sets in.

The baby is hungry.

I've compared the first few weeks of a child's life to boot camp. You know it's supposed to be difficult, but nothing can prepare you for just how hard it can be until you are in the throws of sleep deprivation. And those around you that have never experiences the "joys" of parenthood just don't understand why you just poured salt instead of sugar into your morning coffee -- and didn't seem to notice.

In fact, I believe the real reason that friends who already have children are so excited upon hearing about your impending pregnancy is not that they're truly happy for you.

They're happy for them.

For now they will have someone to commiserate with. NOW you will understand what they have been enduring. And they are just giddy at your impending joy - and misery!

So here you are at 4 a.m. with a baby wanting a bottle. The funny thing is, I've been through this before. Sean is child number two. And he's four months old. He's actually slept through the night a few times - and that is when you get spoiled.

At the beginning, you know the baby needs to be fed every couple hours. If your wife is breast feeding, dad gets a bit of a break. That is, unless you do what we did and Dad ends up getting the baby, changing the diaper and presenting him to Momma.

You get into a routine and embrace your sleep deprivation. You're coasting on fumes, but adrenaline kicks in and you get stuff done.

But I've found that as your kids get older and start sleeping better, and you actually get a few good nights' sleep, when a "bad night" comes along - it absolutely kicks your ass.

Now there are bad nights and there are "bad nights." "Bad nights" are when you are up and down several times a night. It could be a cold. It could be teeth. It could be the Flyers lost again (oh wait, that's me). But he's not happy. And you're not sleeping.

Thankfully, last night was not one of THOSE nights. But when you're roused from your slumber and you realize you have to get up, sometimes it takes every bit of energy to get your legs to respond.

Mine were choosing not to last night.

The boy wasn't in full meltdown mode, just a "fuss." Otherwise my "Super Dad" instinct would have kicked in. That's where some autonomic reflex kicks in that literally spring me out of bed launching me in the direction of a screaming child.

I think it's a hereditary skill. My own dad has told me about being able to hear us kids from a deep sleep. But this is a bit different.

When we moved here about 2 years ago, my then-2-year-old daughter and I ended up living in a cheap apartment behind a strip mall while my wife stayed behind to sell the house. Unbeknownst to me before I rented the place, the dumpsters from the strip mall are emptied EVERY NIGHT between 1 and 3 a.m.!!!

You can imagine the terror a 2-year-old in a strange, dark apartment, sleeping on an air mattress experiences when she's awaken by an extremely loud BANG BANG BANG in the middle of the night.

So I would come running in to comfort her in a full sprint. This went on for a month before we were able to sell the old house and buy a new one.

This led to night terrors for the poor kid. So I developed this Pavlovian response to 'screaming child' that flings me in the direction of the noise before really gaining consciousness.

Apparently, the "I'm hungry" fuss doesn't quite trigger that response.

But after a couple minutes of coming-to, we start the middle-of-the-night route: grab the robe, hit the bathroom, make the bottle, pick him up, change his diaper, into the rocking chair, bottle in mouth and zzzzzzzzzzzzz.

I pass out in the chair, baby tucked into my body and going to town on the bottle.

I wake up 45 minutes later, bottle is almost empty and he's asleep, too. So, I try to get a burp to no avail, put my little angel back into the crib and return to my comfy bed.

And I just nod back off to sleep when it starts.

"Waaaaaaaa"

SON OF A ....