The boy started rolling onto his stomach a couple weeks ago. This was met with much fanfare and celebration, since it's one of those infant development milestones everyone talks about and then starts crying because "they grow up so fast."
For The Boy, however, rolling onto his stomach presented more of a cunundrum than an accomplishment. He rolled onto his stomach, and was then confronted with the reality of "Well, what now?" Whereas he's been accustomed to lying on his back for the past four months--which afforded him free, unimpeded breathing--lying on his stomach introduced him to the world of chest compression, thank you very much gravity. Tummy time means slightly labored breathing, at least until he builds up the necessary stomach and diaphragm fortitude.
His mother and I can always tell when he's rolled onto his stomach, because the air is quickly pierced with the sounds of his annoyed grunting/gasping, as if he's trying to push out a particularly stubborn poop.
Thankfully, he figured out this week how to roll back onto his back, but it's not a fully-ingrained behavior, meaning he basically rolls onto his back by accident, and then he just kind of lays there with a "how did I do that?" expression on his face.
Raising a baby is kind of like watching a passed out drunk come back to his senses, only in super slow motion.
Posted by Ryan at February 19, 2010 11:49 AM | TrackBack
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