Yesterday I put Paige down on her tummy in her crib while I went to help Liam in the bathroom. She’s finally tolerating “tummy time” for more than a few seconds so I thought I’d let her spend a few minutes on her belly. She basically spends the time in a full-on Superman position (coincidence, or genes? we’ll never know…) while teetering back and forth and ultimately getting super angry that she’s not in any position other than the one in which she finds herself.
Not this time.
I heard her screeching in frustration (as usual) for a few minutes and then she was back to cooing and gurgling (and, let’s be honest: screeching and yelling out excitedly). I finished up with Liam and went to check on her and found that (you guessed it) she had turned over onto her back. I’ve basically been (slightly neurotically) watching her weeble to the brink of rolling over (from both belly to back and vice versa) for a solid month waiting for this to happen. And she does it for the first time when I leave the room. I am trapped in this house with these children for all but about two hours per week. The very least that I’d like to take from it is not missing their milestones and triumphs.
I know she’ll do it again when I’m watching, but I hate that I missed the first time.
She’s a tricky one. She could have at least done it when I could see her do it, if she was too shy to show her mama.