I glance up from my books to check the clock on my computer, 1:00 a.m.; the house is quiet with only the sound of shuffling papers and the hum of my computers fan. This will be the fourth night in a row that I have stayed up past midnight and still had two hours’ worth of homework ahead of me. As I diligently flip the page to my lab manual knowing that I am slowly dwindling down the stack of “to do” papers, I hear it. Soft at first, slowly progressing to a more helpless, sharp whine, cutting through the silence of the night like someone slowly ripping a piece of paper from top to bottom. “Don’t move” I think, “If he doesn’t hear you he will fall back asleep and you will be able to finish this!” I slowly lay my forehead down on the desk and shut my eyes. “Please, please, please, go back asleep.”, and then I hear it, the piercing whale of my newborn son, waking for his midnight snack. He was barely a month when fall term had started. I stand up and quietly shuffle down the hall, making sure not to wake my two year old in the other room. After feeding him I lay him gently in his bed, cover him with his blanket and tip-toe back to the warm glow of my computer and the desk lamp. I sit back down, rub my eyes and sleepily look again at the clock, 1:55 a.m., at this rate I’m not going to sleep tonight.