This is what happens when your son suddenly starts sleeping longer stretches at night:
You wake up at 7am and realize he last ate at 2:30. At first it's exciting and then you panic - maybe there's a reason he didn't wake up any sooner. You rush out of bed while still attempting to be quiet - you know, just in case. You slowly, yet quickly, open your door (so it won't creak), tiptoe ever so swiftly across the hall and toward his crib. You peer over the edge - there he is, breathing in and out with the subtle hint of a snore. Simply adorable. And then you do a silent happy dance on the inside while the outside gets its rear back to bed to ride this sleeping thing out. And when he finally awakes 45 minutes later you just think about how wonderful it was to have (nearly) a full night's sleep (you know, as much as five-ish hours is a full night's sleep at the moment).
Or at least that's what happened to me this morning.