Yeah, but can he pair wine with food?

Zachary was practically born smiling and I have the pictures to prove it. Lesley: hospital gown, tattered hair, teary eyes, burst facial capillaries. Zach: Smiling. And no, it wasn't gas. What more could you ask for in a child once you get past the whole ten fingers- ten toes thing?

On the flip side, he's never been a sleeper. I don't know who wrote all those books that tell you that babies sleep around the clock for the first few weeks, but they're full of it. Zach never liked closing his eyes, not when he could be babbling or singing or smiling manically at the pillowcase in an attempt to make friends with it. When he did nap it had to be in the swing. When he did sleep it had to between us in bed. Fitfully, actively. He divided the night between punching Lesley and kicking me. Those aren't bags under my eyes, they're bruises.

Only in a social context have Zachary's sleep issues been a good thing. It's gotten me out of more than a few situations where the happy baby accolades are getting out of hand. Imagine a well-meaning friend, right in front of half dozen other babies and their doting mothers, exclaiming, "wow, that's the happiest baby I've ever seen!" Next thing you know the there are six women glaring at me and my child in almighty silence, then scrambling to make funny faces and poopy sounds in an all-out effort to demonstrate that their baby is happy too, damn it. Potential social crisis indeed. Potential social crisis averted, however, when I mention, "well, he's not a sleeper."

Instantly, the moms are smiling at me like I'm giving away free money. Then they look at each other smugly and nod and wink and give the secret my-baby-sleeps handshake, and start relating stories about how little Tiffany has been sleeping fourteen hours a night straight through since she was 3 weeks. And wakes up laughing every morning. With a clean diaper. That smells like gardenias.

But the other day, it all changed. After six straight months of accrued sleep deprivation, the unimaginable has happened: Zach slept in his crib. All night long. No force-feeding, no duct tape, no Rohypnol mixed in with the formula.

Please don't hate me moms, I bet your kid has much better, um, hair.