Let me tell you about my first born. He is a little blond angel (although not so little anymore and a bit less blond these days too). His eyes are grey, like the sea during a storm (ha, get it?). And you never know when the storm is going to hit. He's been a challenge, er, spirited , since he popped out and was first declared a boy. ("Here she comes, here she comes, here she... uh...it's a boy!") He did not sleep as an infant. Like, ever. At least not in his crib. He'd fall asleep nursing and nap in my arms until I laid him down and he'd start to cry. We used to joke about his altitude sensor, although it wasn't funny. Honestly, nothing during the early days with that child was funny. This baby cried a lot. He did other things too, but the crying is what I mostly remember. I couldn't go to the bathroom. I couldn't shower. I couldn't read a book. I couldn't sit down to drink a cup of coffee. He'd cry and cry and cry. I would have panic...