The Unbeatable Foe

Every morning I get up between 4:00 and 4:30 to change and feed Reid. The idea is to get him comfortable and dry... fill his belly, and get him back to sleep so I can get ready for work. I hear him stir so I get up and heat a bottle and then go into his room to change his diaper. We then walk out quietly to the dark living room where the flickering TV is diplaying the news so I can feed him and catch up on current events.

All is well, he fusses while I try to fit him with a burp rag and shove the bottle into his mouth as quickly as possible... then the feeding frenzy begins. He frantically tries to speed eat... the goal... to beat his last time. After about 30 sips he settles into a pace not unlike that of the cross country runner or a time trialist settling in for a gruelling 40K time trial. During the course of the 6oz, he begins to fall into what can only be called "trance eating"... then there's the sound of empty bottle... which sounds something like the last few drops of a Slurpee being sucked up forcefully into the straw until making that sound... you know the one.

So, now we get to the title of this story... I try to burp him a bit to take the pressure off of his tiny belly. He burps... then again and finally a big one. RELIEF! Then begins the battle. The fight against that nasty foe...SLEEP. He does this move that can only be described as "bearlike". He thrashes back and forth, pushing his head against me andforcing it back the other way. More pressure, the battle ensues... he is losing... he battles back with more thrashing until... the right arm falls... limp. Then the left one... The eyes finally succumb to the evil forces of the all too familiar foe... SLEEP. Reid thinks to himself..."I'll get you next time you evil one... Once I wake up". So, I tip toe into his room, limp arms and all... and lay him gently into the sleeping apparatus that Jen has assembled in his crib and cover him up. "Mooo--waaaa---haaaa-haa HAAA! I win again", SLEEP says. SLEEP 1, Anderson's 0

I gently tip toe back to the living room to watch the news. Then I start drifting off to sleep, all the while thinking that I shouldn't go back to sleep or I'll be late. Too late ...

SLEEP 2, Anderson's 0