I just knew it.

I deserve it for being so smug.

Cam and the universe decided to pay me back for being a braggart.  Last night, not only did she not sleep through the night, but she made sure no one else did either.  My god, the child has found her inner screamer, and was a very angry baby.  New to this parenting gig, I figured that level of intensity meant she needed some Ibuprofen for teething.  Maybe that took the edge off, but I am fairly sure it acted like speed in her system, because she was up four more times after that.  Being an insomniac, I take some drugs to sleep, so after 0230, she was Rob's problem.  Problem for me is that being an alcoholic, the medication I take for my insomnia needs to be non-habit forming.  To that end it's great.  It gets me to sleep, but will only keep me there if not disturbed.  A 7 month old screaming bloody murder is disturbing.  The meds make me aware of what's going on, but I have zero coordination and feel drunk as hell.  I love the irony.

Cam woke at her normal time, got fed...again.  Rob can only take so much screaming before he gives into the beast and feeds her.  Sigh.  Rob normally works from home, but had to go into the office today.  I imagine he feels like I do:  worn the fuck out.  As I lay sleeping, he sneak attacked me with a smiling baby, dropped her on the bed and made a hasty retreat while hollering she won't be ready for a nap for another hour or so.  I tried my best to ignore her squeals of delight and cooing.  I'd hoped she would take the hint and take a nap.  Fat chance.  Got my haggard ass out of bed, played with her for 20 minutes, and she fell asleep.  I hurried her up to her crib and crawled back in bed, only to lay there, mind racing.  I think I was just starting to drift off when I heard her pissed off wails of protest.

It's been a long day already.