Yesterday I went out for a run and came back to the news that Reid had rolled from back to tummy! I knew that stupid old friend of mine (about whom I apparently wax poetic when I am on an endorphin high - what was WITH that last post?!) would do something like this - monopolize my time so that I'd miss a huge milestone.
But anyway, Reid recreated the moment for me, and it was really super cute. He cried once he landed on his tummy, I expect because either he was stuck, or because that Crazy Lady started hollering and squealing and gushing about how proud she was of her Big, Strong Guy.
He didn't do it how I expected he would, either. I thought he would arch his back and flip, like my niece did and like all the "baby rolls over" illustrations show it in the baby books. Instead, he pulled his knees up in the air and rolled to one side - baby's got that Pilates knee drop move down way better than I do - and then just rolled the rest of the way.
Apparently this new workout tired him out, because he went down to sleep without a peep last night, only woke up twice, and is now on HOUR THREE of a nap. This has been a challenging couple of weeks, sleep-wise, so this change in routine is both odd and welcome.
As for me, I've been sitting here on the couch doing absolutely nothing productive for the past three hours. And you know what I should have been doing? Absolutely nothing productive. You know why? Because it's okay to just sit. Look at me, I'm growing up too.
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