Yeah, I Rolled Over. Ain't No Thang.

Ok, so somebody rolled over for the first time today, and it wasn't me.  Yes, it's true, Milo rolled over at nine weeks and one day and it's a four-month landmark, so obviously all of my suspicions about his precocity have come to fruition.  The weird thing about it was that he did it at the doctor's office.  It was as if I had brought my car to the mechanic for an oil change or something and then it started rattling and shaking as soon as I pulled in.  But in a good way.  

The pediatrician had placed him on his stomach on the examining table to see how well he could raise his neck, and she said that it looked almost as if he wanted to roll over, so she suggested we give him a minute.  He kept pushing with his right arm, once, twice, thrice, four times (maybe more; I don't actually remember how many tries it took him), and then, just like a beetle who gets himself off of his back, he rolled himself over -- except he started on his tummy and landed on his back.  I almost cried, and our pediatrician was visibly thrilled, and commented on how methodical he was about it.  I joked that Milo was planning on taking the SATs next week, but jokes notwithstanding, it's a pretty incredible feeling to watch him making these developmental leaps.

I see it with him in other ways, too.  He's much more engaged these days, and in addition to smiling, he now stops crying -- or at least quiets down -- when Ben or I enter his room to give him a bottle in the middle of the night; he anticipates being soothed, which is soothing in and of itself.  Curious phenomenon.  I'm also trying to pay attention to the ways in which he is beginning to make more sounds.  It's not just crying these days; there's the "bwah" noise that he makes when he's pouting but not really crying.  There's a "guh" noise that he makes when he's interested and alert.  There's a noise that sounds like a proto-laugh that I enjoy very much.  He also clearly has a command of some consonants -- M, B, W, and G, for example -- and I suppose that they are linguistically and anatomically easier than, say, sibilants or plosives, and it's fascinating to watch how a little human acquires sounds, if not yet language.

Ben and I were talking about it the other night: how strange and wonderful it is that everyone who has a child gets to conduct this sort of anthropological experiment in his own home, watching this little being move from basically being a helpless little marsupial to a full-fledged person with likes and dislikes, with personality traits and prerogatives.  I'm so looking forward to whatever the next step is.