Our boy rolled over! [Cheers, high-fives]
It’s exciting if you realize just how hard C. works when he’s on his stomach. He lifts his round head (and fat cheeks) high and grunts and looks like he’s concentrating with every fiber of his being.
It’s like watching someone run the last mile of a marathon — you can tell the marathoner’s body is failing and his muscles are about to collapse and he’s sweating, in nearly unbearable pain. So when he crosses that finish line, you are overwhelmed with joy for him.
OK, it’s not that extreme, but C. gets ridiculously frustrated on his stomach — to the point where his face crinkles up and turns red and he starts to cry. So to see him turn over, with a surprised expression (he really has no idea what he did), deserves fist-pumping.
I admit that I missed the actual first roll-over. A. was playing with him in my parent’s living room Friday evening. I was taking a long, hot, luxurious shower. A. put C. on his stomach on a blue blanket and, according to A., he and my parents saw C.’s hips shift and he was looking up and smiling at my mom when he flipped and they all cheered. I saw it the next day, and to me, it was just as exciting.