Sleep.

"A Glimpse, Jack"

The Boy has taken an extended hiatus from living under my tyranny and has sought refuge at his paternal grandparents. Preparing for his final attempt at eliminating the oligarchy that exists at his primary domicile, his patria if you will, this attempt will of course be quashed as all past attempts have been. Under this banner of 'food whenever' and 'spitting up, no problem' he has enlisted Lucy, faithful compatriot. With the matriarch out of the picture (visiting the mile high city,) these rogues (or in their vernacular 'freedom fighters') are convinced their coup will be successful. Even though the cat possess opposable thumbs, she would not be able to stir his formula, and The Boy lacks the strength to pour cat food, hopefully discontent can be spread throughout their camp.
However the time with the empty house will certainly be utilized, with the wife out of town and The Boy off at Gramma's, some rest should be enjoyed. Yes with no crying for food from the former and no crying for attention from the later, time will seem to fly. But most importantly is the freedom from patiently waiting for the boy to actually fall asleep, battling with his eyelids as slumber attempts to take the pass, guarded by consciousness which fights to keep its ground. The Consternation felt by those who wait and see what will happen is made particularly dramatic by the tendency to cry if he awakens too soon, if the eyelids can only hold their ground for a few seconds or several minutes, the tears are released. His appreciable anger at missing out on the world seems to fill not only him, but the room if his he expresses the anger audibly.
Yes when the Boy attempts to sleep those around him wait, with baited breath, they bite their tongue with anticipation. Unless you are one of the boys grandparents, then you try to wake him, thus the parental conundrum is complete, parents enjoy the peace of a sleeping child and - grandparents enjoy that of an attentive grandchild.

[See Above Video]

Innovation

It is seems shocking to me that there has never been an attempt to capitalize on a simple concept, one that could reap millions for a device everyone has. It would be simple to include and cheap to produce, those in the industry could find the right one and most likely from somewhere in their family, very little R&D would be needed. Yes this simple fix, change, modification if you will would revolutionize the industry.

Instead of the solid or alternating beeps currently used in alarm clocks why not replace that pleasant sound with the vocalization of an unhappy infant. As I have come to enjoy the sound that wakes me everyday after I have had the perfunctory two hours of sleep, what a pleasant sound it is. One of life's greatest pleasures is the auditory emanation signaling it is time to return my life of servitude. Luckily for me I have trained my once blissfully ignorant human ears to be more consistent with those of the Felis or Panthera Genus.

Making sure to wake when he begins the 'cooing' stage seems to be the best answer for sanity and mental health in general. Beginning his feeding/changing ritual at this stage leads to decibel levels that are much more consistent with a life that includes audible enjoyment in the future. Utilizing (or even enjoying) the precious few minutes of sleep that would occur between the 'cooing' and crying stages is without question not worth the shredded remains that you once called your ears.

Yes babies are so precious, that is all I can think about as the boy is screaming so loud and so long he begins to go hoarse. Yes, babies are so precious.

Coordinate This!

Coordination and intelligence are two words that should strike fear into the heart of every new parent. It seems like children should be more like pets until they are ready to move out, or at the very least until they can speak. As 'the boy' gets smarter he is able to discern between the different pacifiers (I think we have three total.) Two he likes and two he doesn't, I guess we have four pacifiers. I adapted to this fine and simply hurled the ones he shows distain for into a large pit to be devoured by a massive creature over the next thousand years. The other two I keep close for use after feedings, I use them to see if he is really still hungry or just making the sucking motion.

I was okay when he got smart enough to discern between the different pacifiers, as stated earlier I merely had the offending devices drawn and quartered. I even got used to the fact that he eventually became able to detect that I was giving him a pacifier and not, in fact, a bottle. Coordination has decided to rear it's ugly head in the form of control over his hand and arm movements. Coordination apparently decided that it was probably no good for him to punch himself in the face and scratch his cheeks. Coordination didn't stop there, no coordination went too far, and coordination has to stopped!

Using intelligence and coordination the boy has been pulling out his pacifier almost immediately after insertion. That sounds dirty and I have no idea why. Anyway he has figured out that he can grab the little handle on the pacifier and pull in order to evacuate the device from his mouth. Mostly he does this because he knows how pissed off it makes me and he takes delight in my anger.

Fortunately I am smarter... sort of. I have now returned to a long forgotten methodology, practiced by the great tribes and peoples of yore. I have begun swaddling him paying special care to wrap his arms under the blanket, in doing so rendering him helpless. "Whatta' ya' think of that punk!" I can be heard shouting in my living room. My victory dances are the best.

Parenting - 1 : Nature - 0

Expectations

It is of the most basic logic that parents have expectations for their children. Since I am already a spectacular person it leaves little room for my child to move past me in life. This should be his goal, so in an effort to relate to his future subjects what he was like before becoming your greatest despot I will present stories and thoughts about his youth here.

As of right now he is only five weeks old but already he has an iron grip on controlling my habits. He finds it important to not allow me more than five hours of contiguous sleep, instead he has determined that my schedule be four hours of sleep followed by attempts to sleep later, resulting in several one hour increments separated by breaks to feed, change, or worship his image.

Life for those who serve will have its rewards (or so I am told,) however they will be presented posthumously, so I have that going for me.