How Being Smug Will Come Back To Haunt You

It was only going to be a matter of time before I wrote a blog about sleep. I am obsessed with it. How much i've had, how much I should be having, how I can use what little i've had to make Husband do stuff for me like bring me tea, make me dinner, agree with me at all times, that sort of thing. I was lucky enough to be blessed with a sleepy baby first time round. J slept through at three months old, and at two and a bit still has three hour naps in the afternoon as well as twelve solid hours at night. Except I didn't think I was lucky. I just thought I was doing it right, and everyone else was doing it wrong.
I'm sure I'm not the only person who has watched parenting/sleep programmes where families bring in an 'expert' to sort out their children's sleep issues.
"I just don't know what we're doing wrong!" they cry. Cut to a video of their night time routine, and their kids are doing shots of lemonade through their eyeballs as a night time drink, having a couple of games of an 18 rated computer game as a wind down, then wandering upstairs for a family viewing of a horror film at 11:30. Good grief these people were idiots. I sat, smug in the knowledge that my beautiful boy was upstairs conked out because I am such a wonderful mother.
And then M was born.
My oh my, my second born son was angry. He had colic for four months. He screamed, non stop, unless he was asleep. For four months. I loved him to pieces, but basically spent every hour of every day walking up and down with him with tears streaming down my face, with a very perplexed toddler roaming after me. It was horrible. I actually at one point googled 'signs that your baby is going to grow up to be a serial killer' he was that horrid. Needless to say I didn't click on any of the actual links.
Now, at seven months old, he is one of the happiest babies I know. He has a constant smile on his face. He laughs at everything. I have forgiven him every single minute of those first four months. He's delightful. But he won't sleep. 
I've tried everything. He sleeps on an expensive sheepskin. He has a calming bedtime routine without a horror film in sight. And yet, he wakes up every two hours for a feed or a cuddle. All night, every night. For every time I rolled my eyes at the TV, for every time I inwardly congratulated myself on my brilliance when J was a baby and my friends bemoaned their child's terrible sleeping habits, M is having another week of not sleeping. So he should start sleeping around......never.
Mummies. I beg you. Don't be smug. Your children will make you pay. And if you're already smug - watch your back.