Since having Ty I have discovered there are three questions everyone always (and I mean always) asks. Is he sleeping through the night? Are you breastfeeding? Are you going back to work?

Most of the time these queries are posed for the sake of civil conversation. Then there are the others. The others ask because they want to know if you too have accepted your membership to the very unfortunate peoples club.

The others want to know if you are waking at all hours of the night because Jack only slept for 30 minutes at a time until he was 11 months. And for some reason they take pleasure in knowing that you too are failing miserably to sleep train your little monster – so by some sort of twisted logic they aren’t terrible parents after all.

The others are interested if you are breastfeeding because Oliver is still going strong at 23 months, although they are admittedly worried because it seems he is beginning to self wean and it feels a little soon, right? Meanwhile, I quit breastfeeding months ago because frankly, it was awful. It's a touchy subject but the fact remains I resented that pump and I didn't enjoy my nipples being used as chew toys. Furthermore, if I had to hear, “If it hurts, you’re doing it wrong” one more time I was going to throat punch someone.

The others are also genuinely concerned about your career plans. They need to know who will care for that little baby? If not you, who will make his organic, gluten-free, soy-free, buckwheat chia waffles every morning? Who will teach him baby sign language and organize his rock collection? Okay yes, I do stay home – but please don’t be disillusioned. I’m a mess and managing a little person all day only compounds the chaos. Everyday I resolve to do better. Baby steps. If I somehow make it out of pajamas and into real clothes two consecutive days that my friends is what I call victory.

So I said all that to say, no my son does not sleep through the night. In fact, I’m concerned he might be a vampire.