Tess rolled over for the first time today. She looked startled and howled, which made me look up from the document I was working on and notice she was no longer on her tummy for tummy time! I was flabbergasted, exhilarated and intimidated. For a while now, she’s been close – but I honestly wondered if I was overestimating her. Yet there she was, legs kicking in the air, in a totally different position than I’d left her!
My next feeling was guilt: I was working and didn’t even see it! I’d prepared for missing firsts when I was at the office, but she was in the same room. Parental fail in a first-world, no damage kid of way – but I still had a forehead-slap kind of moment.
Really, other than signs of progress, seeing her roll over for the first or fortieth time shouldn’t matter. I know it happened. The big ones, like her first word or first step, I’m dying to be party to. Still, who are we really? Dave and I encouraged her to progress, gave her the tools to succeed and train her muscles, but we certainly didn’t get down on the ground and show her how to roll.
This is Tess’ accomplishment, and the future firsts belong to her, too. We get to cheer her on, laugh with delight and hold her to celebrate and comfort her, but she’s already making her own way while we watch. She just doesn’t know it yet.