My thoughts this time of night seem to center around the youngest. It wasn't always this way. I remember being centered on my wife. Maybe when the kids move out. Tonight's observation centers around the fact that the baby can come into the house in her mother's arms and flash a smile that could reboot a linux server. She giggles and coos and I am in love again. So I take her in my arms (the baby) and give her a smile in return. And she cries. I check to see if she is dry. Check. Ha...

So there I am watching the kids while Susan is at work. She made sure they were fed and clean before she left. She gave us all a hug, stressed how important her work is and how far behind she is. Tells us that she loves us and heads out. Peace reigns. We coo. We sit up. We creep around a little. We play with little animals that crinkle or beep or play poorly digitized nursery rhymes. Now what to do with the NEXT ten minutes . . . Maybe a nap. Maybe the play goes on for a while...

The baby is crying in the room next door. She's much more demanding than my last daughter. The last one would wake up and contemplate life with a zen-like attitude. This one . . . she wakes up and crys in a way that you know translates into "Pick my ass up!" But she is five months old and waking twice a night. The wife and I are fried. We are always tired and not being great partners. The other three girls are suffering too. It's nice that my boss is a woman who raised kids and underst...