Ballistic

Last night was rough. At 1 o’clock in the morning, the baby started crying, and he didn’t stop for three hours no matter what my wife tried to do. She fed him, which has lately been his biggest complaint. But after he was done, he went on screaming. She woke me up crying that she couldn’t figure out what was wrong, and she was so tired. After checking his diaper and unsuccessfully attempting to use the pacifier, I finally got him to burp and shushed him until he settled into a restless sleep. He slowly relaxed into a deep sleep, and I sat there on the bed holding him for next three hours, trying not to move and shushing him back to sleep if he startled.

I saw the colors of the dawn cast their pale blues and pinks across everything as the sun slowly came up. I saw the birds awake and begin to sing. I watched the naked trees sway gently in the wind outside. And I watched my son sleep in my arms, feeling trusting and safe.

When my wife finally came to relieve me after a much-needed sleep, I was exhausted. But I couldn’t sleep, because there were diapers to change and mouths to feed. Maybe I’ll get a nap later...