On a roll

8 Oct 24

I did it! I rolled over! I am VERY proud of myself, and I smile a big toothless grin every time I roll back to front on my own. I’ve come a long way, baby.

Listen: I used to hate tummy time. It’s true. I whined immediately and cried until I was saved from the most horrid of all positions. 

My well-intentioned parents, having read tips from “baby experts” who advise increasing amounts of time on my tummy to help me with “developmental milestones” quickly learned I considered it the rudest of tortures. Simply put: I hadn’t muscles. I promptly ended up face down on whatever mat I had been placed. Like a baby pancake. A baby pancake that cried.

Wouldn't you? 

You probably don’t remember being a helpless blob with no agency, but let me remind you: it sucks. I’m at the whim of others for my comfort and I haven't the language to communicate. So many things to learn! Sigh.

Back to tummy time: We started with 30 seconds, 1 minute, then 1 minute 30, and built from there. As you do.

For many days my parents forwent tummy time completely. Between breastfeeding, naps, diaper changes, laundry, grocery shopping, and poussette (stroller) walks around the lake, they just felt like the ‘baby agenda’ was full enough without tummy time on the roster. 

Reluctantly, we all tried again. And again and again, until this once-terrifying position was within my grasp. 

It was a lesson we all continue to learn again and again: patience and persistence pays off. 

One day, when I curled my feet up to my chest in an adorable attempt to suck on my own toes, I accidentally flipped over to one side. Whoa! A revelation. From there it was explorations in leverage, momentum, and brute force. What a new perspective on the world when I was able to face upright, no longer on my back! Look! There are trees! And toys! And dust bunnies! And a horizon! There is more to life than the ceiling. 

Now that’s a POV I could embrace.

My grunting was audible - but grunts aren’t cries, and frustration isn’t distress, so my parents' rescues turned to gentle encouragements, and I relented to the hard work of arching, twisting, pushing and holding. The superman-cobra-superman-cobra flow became my favorite asana. 

And that was that. With the capacity to roll and lift now within my repertoire of mad skillz, I became a baby on a mission: on the carpet, in my crib, even while nursing – suddenly, I wanted to be on my tummy any chance I could get. Crawling, here I come! 

Now me and my Mama get to bear witness daily to the beautiful reminder that hard doesn’t mean bad, and anything worth achieving usually comes with some grunts and even cries along the way. But one day, hopefully, we lift up our heads and see a whole new world, ready to welcome us.