Rock and roll, kootchie koo

3B, waiting for Papa to leave, so he can roll onto his back again

Is there anything that MetroDad doesn’t know?

Apparently not.

After I wrote about 3B rolling over for the first time, MD wrote

Watch out. From here on in, all those physical milestones will be happening very quickly. Exciting times.

So true, so true, MD. Yesterday, 3B rolled from his stomach to his back for the first time, so now he can roll himself from back to front and back again as he wishes. Just like the first time he rolled from his back to his stomach, he only went from his stomach to his back once, but we can see that he’s practicing, building up skills to locomote around the house like a runaway log on a 22-degree slope.

I suppose this means that we’d better get some closet doors sometime soon, eh? Or, maybe we should just move all the WMDs up one shelf?

I’d post some video of the amazing event, but the kid always seems to wait for me to walk out of the room to make it to these milestones, and then never repeats them while I’m looking. I should expect as much, since Mama is still clearly the favorite parent. He tolerates me fairly well, although if I want to get a smile for a picture, I still have to call in the ringer. As soon as Mama walks into the room and says something–anything, it could be “Ack. Gah. Thhppbbbt.”–3B busts out the gummy grin.

There are some things I can do to amuse him, however, like swing him back and forth, singing “Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.” in my best Barry Gibb falsetto. Being his dad, and loving to see him laugh, I do this until my arms have the strength of wet noodles and my shoulders feel like they’ve been stretched on the rack. Tonight when I was at that point, Mama came in the room and said, “Do it again. I want to see.” Sure, my rotator cuffs felt like they’d been through a wood chipper, but I wasn’t going to miss an opportunity to prove that I, too, could make our son laugh, so up he went, into the air. Back and forth, forth and back–“Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.” Nothing.

Then much straining, and then boredom again. And then me, desperate to make him laugh, with the glass-shattering falsetto “Did you poop? Did you pee?”

Aha! At that second question, a spark of recognition and a twinge of a grin, so I ask again, “Did you pee?” The grin becomes a smile. “Did you pee? Did you pee? Did you pee? Pee? Pee?” At this point, Barky is looking for a pillow to bury his ears under to escape my Barry Gibb on helium screech, but 3B is laughing up a storm, and I’m having the time of my life making him laugh.

It’s only when we’re done that I realize I’ve spent half an hour singing, “Pee. Pee. Pee. Pee. Pee. Pee.” to 3B. Exciting times, indeed.

And when is it that the parents start to reach some developmental milestones?

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  • Oh man, milestones. I thought they would be engraved on my brain forever, but recently I discovered otherwise. We’re filling out the application for kindergarten next year for Duncan, and they want to know when he crawled, walked and spoke (this is Waldorf school, they like to know your kid REALLY well). I couldn’t for the life of me remember any of them.

    At some point I think I decided that the numbers aren’t really important unless they’re way outside of “normal”. Like I do remember that Duncan got his first tooth at 3 1/2 months, because that’s insanely early. And I remember how he could only roll over in one direction for many months, meaning he would roll until some piece of furniture or wall stopped him, and then get really pissed off.

    My favorite milestone advice has been: no “normal” person goes to their high school prom wearing diapers. Some day, the Poopapalooza will stop.

    Hmmm…”Ack. Gah. Thhppbbbt.”?? Is Mama B really Bill the Cat in disguise?

  • That post really just made me have to go pee.

    Hey, whatever works, right? Cuz pretty soon he’ll be onto something else and that back of tricks will be emtpy, so use and abuse it as long as possible.

    Pee pee pee!