If another person tells me how their friend's baby slept through the night when s/he was only six weeks old, I will scream.
Tim is three-and-a-half months old and the longest stretch of sleep he has had so far was from 8 p.m. to 4 a.m., and that was just once. He has managed a couple of seven-hour stretches, but more often than not, he still wakes several times a night - not necessarily to eat, but enough to wake me to hush him back to sleep.
I am still trying to avoid using the soother, but when I resort to it, instead of just plugging it in and going back to sleep, I stay awake and remove it before Tim is fully asleep, hoping this is as good as not having used it at all.
Michael, like most fathers, it appears, is able to sleep through all but the loudest of cries, and this too is beginning to frustrate me. When, in a bout of irritation, I wake him to check on Tim or to change his nappy - usually only at the weekends - I end up not being able to fall asleep again as I suffer from a strain of knowing- I- can- do -it- better- myself. When not afflicted by that, I am prone to bouts of: "Why are they taking so long? I'll just get up and check they're okay." Michael's natural good-temper means this , luckily, doesn't bother him.
Various people have mentioned the miraculous first all-night sleep. Apparently, it just comes out of nowhere, right around now, and neither Tim nor I will look back again. I'll let you know when it happens.
Other people mention in passing that their nine-month-old still wakes for a bottle in the middle of the night, or that their 16-month-old has started to wake again as his teeth are irritating him. I don't know which comments get to me more.
Daytime sleep is something I have taken a while to work out. Initially, I thought that Tim was a very "wakey" baby, and he is, but after a couple of months I realised that part of the problem was my inability to read the signs of tiredness. Now I know when he rubs his eyes he's tired, but the first couple of months I thought it was because of his blocked tear duct.
I have also begun to understand the less sleep he gets during the day, the less we both get at night, paradoxically. Of course, several family members tried to tell me all of this weeks ago, but I decided to find out the long and hard way.
Tim's future teeth are still bothering him, and trails of dribble follow wherever we go. Distraction, in the form of his reflection, generally produces a smile whenever tears threaten. He particularly likes surprising himself, turning suddenly as if to catch his reflection out.
Another favourite is to advance sturdily on his feet towards the mirror and grab at it. Photographs of him don't have quite the same appeal - probably because they don't "react" to him.
With the mirror, he has a partner who laughs, cries and looks confused when he does. It's been proven that we, as adults, respond better to people who reflect our actions, so it isn't remotely surprising he likes his reflection so much. He's not so fond of my reflection kissing his reflection's head. Although he seems to know he is the baby in the mirror, that bit always throws him!
Susan Hayden is an Irish Times staff member - her column appears fortnightly.