Sleep Strike '08-How do you negotiate with a baby???

Miles' sleep patterns are rivaling that of a see-saw: good day, bad day, good day, bad day, and on and on and on!  Today has been a bad day.  Jesse reported that the little man has taken only three tiny cat naps, 30 minutes a piece, today.  That's it.  When I got home from work, Miles was giggling and showing off his new baby growl.  Jesse looked frazzled and wiped out, battered by non-stop baby duty.  The only naps came from 3 car rides.  Doesn't this child know of our current economic crisis?  Lord knows he listens to enough NPR with me to be a correspondent for Market Place.

Jesse and Miles are out right now, driving donuts around the downtown area.  Earlier, we took a big family walk through the historic district.  Our plans were to have Miles knocked out within the first half a mile, and then we would snag dinner while he sawed logs (snored).  Nope- silly us.  We completely forgot that the infant is calling the shots these days.  The glorious low humidity, slight breeze, blue skied afternoon was too delicious and enticing for Miles to pass up.  We walked for an hour through many yawns and spells of glassy-eyed stares.  I took Miles out of the stroller and tried to feed him to some sheep.  They were not interested as that he is not made of grass.  I told that flock his green shirt would taste similar to their grass blades, but those mutton chops didn't take the bait.  Nary a nod off until we reached the car.       

Seconds ago I got a call from Jesse.  They are almost home.  I just threw the fur monsters (our big, loud dogs) in the backyard and am doing an ancient Aztec Infant sleep dance.  Hope their drive buys us at least a few hours of solace.  This kid must run on lithium batteries or methane- so much gas from such a tiny body!  I need to let Exxon know we've got the next fossil fuel alternative hiding in our son's tummy and in the Diaper Genie.  

The men folk are now upstairs, and all is quiet.  Maybe because I've turned the monitor off; maybe because Miles has finally given up and passed out.  The Sleep Strike '08 is bound to end.  But when??? I don't think Mr. Mom will last much longer.  I might have to start smuggling Miles into school with me, concealed under baggy sweaters and overalls.  It might work, excepts I'll have to come up with a good excuse for why my boobies are squirming around.