Z rolled over last week (technically, the week before last) and it was hilarious. He looked shocked and I screamed (in excitement) at him, "WHAT JUST HAPPENED?! WHAT DID YOU JUST DO?! WHAT DID YOU JUST DO!?" which probably frightened him even more. He did it again straight away and I was much more calm so then it was time for smiles and giggles since crazy mama wasn't screeching anymore. He would still get stuck a lot, which was hilarious, because he'd be leaning as far as he possibly could and just couldn't make it that last little bit. He knows it's there, a shimmering possibility just waiting for him, but he just can't grasp it with regularity.
In fact, at his point, I think the shine has come off the penny. He's like, "Meh, if I roll over, all I get is on my back." That's just not good enough people. He has no patience for these shenanigans. He needs to MOVE! Now when we place him on his stomach, instead of pushing himself up really high and leaning, he flattens himself down and begins vigorously, if incredibly inefficiently, squirming his way around or attempts to hoist himself up into a crawling position, like that's a pretty reasonable option at this point. No, son, no. It is not. Who am I kidding? He does what he wants. :)
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