Saying "I'm tired" when you have a 12-week-old baby is hard because it just doesn't accurately convey the mental state that being sleep-deprived for that long can put you in. Baby R still wakes in the night anywhere from every hour to every three hours, and although I can't seem to stop doing it myself, the greatest piece of advice I'd give is: Don't look at the clock. It just hurts more.

New parents naturally gravitate together and, lately, I've been encountering a new clique whose members have the privilege of cooing the magical words, "My baby sleeps through the night." On the one hand, I understand the elation they must feel: To be able to get five or more hours of sleep per night...I get dizzy contemplating the luxury. After months of going without, who wouldn't want to shout it from the rooftops? But it is too cruel to share this indiscriminately. For god's sake, can't you just enjoy it quietly amongst yourselves? Why rub my bleary face in it?