Of course you don’t know that after months of sleeping on the floor, I’m helping our baby fall asleep and stay in his crib. And of course you don’t know that means that I get less sleep. A lot less.
You can’t be expected to be aware that I spend two hours watching him dance around his crib, waiting for him to lie down because if I leave the room he freaks out. You don’t know that I hold my breath when he reaches out to take my hand because it means he’s finally willing to fall asleep. (Or not. Sometimes he just wants to put his pacifier in my hand, close my fingers around it and pretend it has disappeared. This, to babies, is hilarious.)
There’s no reason you would know how every train whistle, every loud teenager walking by or any other noisy interloper that can be expected at 7:30 p.m. makes me panic that the last two hours were wasted because he was drifting off.
No, how could you know?
But maybe, just MAYBE, letting your damn dog yap away out in the yard directly across from the nursery window at 5:00 a.m. when the baby is falling asleep, without holding my hand, without a pacifier after being WIDE AWAKE (because the cat had to come in and tell us that he had had breakfast) for the first time EVER… well, maybe you should rethink that.
I’m just saying.
P.S. You should know that everything in your yard is creepy. Especially when you dig big holes behind your garage and use your table saw on your back porch. AFTER DARK.