I think the question I have received the  most in the last five and half weeks is: "Are you getting any sleep?" And usually this is asked in a somewhat joking manner. Of course the correct answer to this question is always the polite "Oh, we're hanging in there." But to a person with 90 minutes of rest under his belt in the past 36 hours the answer that is dying to come out is: "Ha ha, babies keep new parents awake. You're the first person to point that out. Yes, I'm tired and it's hilarious that I am wearing one (just one) of my wife's socks today." (Note: The sock did not match the other sock I was wearing nearly as much as you would imagine. Not even close.)

While our nights haven't been quite as frustrating lately (thanks mainly to stuffing Elliott at about 10 p.m. until milk comes out his ears and swaddling him so tightly that he is physically unable to cry) the first few weeks were certainly... we'll say... memorable. Here are a few of our "Shermans: After Hours" stories to date.

About a week after we brought Elliott home, Shelbi and I got into somewhat of a routine at nights. The baby would cry, she would nurse and I would get a bottle ready to supplement since he was underweight. Once, I set the bottle in warm water and then laid down on our couch while it heated. I was awoken to Shelbi angrily asking what was going on from the other room as Elliott was screaming and pulling on both of his ears (a favorite past time). Originally I was a bit perturbed by the intensity of her questioning as my 30 second respite on the couch seemed more than reasonable. Unfortunately for me, it had actually been 25 minutes.

Another time I woke up with a start realizing that Shelbi needed a bottle and quickly flipped on the light and opened our bedroom door. When Shelbi asked why I was doing this, I deliberately slowed down my train of thought to make a very cogent sentence knowing that I was already disoriented and wanting to avoid embarassment. "I'm going... I have to make the bettles," I said confidently.

But my favorite moment to date came a little over a week ago. I had been in the other room with Elliott early in the morning while Shelbi caught up on a little sleep. When he began latching onto my nipple through my shirt and then jamming both fists into his mouth while wailing loudly I figured he might be hungry. I walked into our room and informed Shelbi that it was time for Elliott to be fed to which she responded: "I'm already nursing." "Hmm," I replied. "I don't believe you are." And she retorted "Well, what do you want me to do with this other baby?" Checkmate.



This has nothing to do with the above entry.
I came home from work to find this scene in
the kitchen. As Elliott is not quite big
enough for our Baby Bjorn Shelbi ingeniously
(and somewhat disturbingly) simply tucked the
baby into her maternity jeans.