Definitely his father's son.

In all fairness, I knew that Brady was overtired yesterday evening.  We were running errands when a storm came up during the afternoon, and all the excitement made him too cranky to settle down for an afternoon nap.  I was half-hoping that this would make him fall asleep at 7:00 or so, giving Earl and I the evening to watch the Olympics and then, ideally, letting him wake up for his first middle-of-the-night feeding just before I went to bed.  Those are typical baby hours, right?  

Instead, the last thing he wanted to do was sleep, especially if it meant sitting in one place.  After letting my salad wilt and my dinner get cold, nursing him until we both cried, walking and walking and walking, and going a bit crazy from the quiet calm of the baby room, I asked Earl to take a shift and went to sleep around 11:00.

I woke up at 6:30, the first time I've slept that long at a stretch since about halfway through my pregnancy.  Amazed that Brady slept through the night - progress!  (And yes, I did reach into the bassinet and put a hand on him, just to make sure he was still breathing.)

It turns out I got excited too soon.  The two of them were up until 2:30, and Earl was just too nice to wake me up again.  I'm thankful, but I also think it serves him right; these are his late-night genes, and he needs to deal with them.