It's Always 3 O'Clock in the Morning

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We saw the neighbors taking a walk with their newborn yesterday. Kathy was chatting with the happy mother as I spoke to the father. He explained that he was going out of town the next night and that life was tough when the kids are so young.

I thought back to those days and nights when sleep-depravation was part of life, and I felt bad for the poor bastard.

"She's just beautiful," he said. "I wouldn't want it any other way."

"Of course you wouldn't, but tomorrow night when your wife is chasing the kids around and you're laying in bed watching a rerun of Friends, you'll really feel bad."

My neighbor laughed, but he sort of cautioned me with his eyes to keep my voice down as if his wife didn't know that his night out would be restful.

And I thought back to a meeting I had with a woman last week - after raising a 16-year old she found out that she was pregnant. At the age of 40 she was planning to have a second kid with her husband. She seemed happy - "After all this time, God is Blessing us again."

I almost said - "That sucks!" when she explained that it was an unplanned event. I thought of her husband - the poor bastard.

And through it all I thought back to one of the first conversations I had soon after Jake was born.

My buddy Tom said - "It's the greatest day of your life, but within a couple of months, you're going to stand in the middle of the kitchen at 3 in the morning - and it's always three in the morning - and you're going to wonder why you (screwed) up your life."

All of this was swimming around in my head as I laid down to sleep last night. I was startled awake by the sound of my dog shaking her head violently as she tried to battle the ear infection that has been driving her crazy.

I was upset to have been shaken from such a sound sleep, but I turned to the clock, wondering how much time I had left.

The digits blinked back at me: 03:00.

Right on the button.

I thought of my neighbor and all the fathers out there stuck in the middle of their kitchen rocking a baby back to sleep.

"Lay down," I said to the dog, and three minutes later I was sleeping again.

Those poor bastards.

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