So after weeks and weeks of attempting to roll over, grunting angrily in frustration at his body not doing what he wants it to, and eventually giving up and screaming to be picked up, E is mobile.
It is terrifying.
He’s now able to roll over both ways, and has realised that if he’s sitting up he can launch himself forward, onto his stomach and be able to roll from there. He does this with such concentration that I imagine in his mind he’s an Olympic diver, and this is his big moment, every time.
This has made moving a hoot, I assure you. He literally just needs seconds, and he’s either making his way down the side of the sofa, or rolling over in his car seat (that can’t be comfortable), or the worst one so far, and this is every time, trying to launch himself off the edge of the sofa. He’s become a right little daredevil in the last few days, mad to be on the move. I can feel the stress lines etching themselves into me just watching him. I understand that sellotaping the child to the sofa isn’t a viable option but I’m sure I’ll think of something.
He’s also been mad to stand up, and has been for a few months now – he’ll lock his legs and just need to be balanced, but holding up his own weight – once he learns how to balance himself, he’ll be off. My little man is getting rather big rather fast – now, not size-wise, at 5 and a half months he’s still rocking the 0-3 months and Newborn stuff (good things come in small hefty packages, right?), but he’s becoming a proper little boy before my eyes and my tiny baby has vanished. My maternity leave has actually flown past – the saying is right, the days are long but the years are short. At least there are plenty of photographs.
And now I’ve Proud Mary stuck in my head. Cos we’re rollin’, rollin’, rollin’ on the river…