Mom took me to the doctor Tuesday so I could impress the good doctor with more amazing me-ness. (Ok, that's not why we were there, but it was a party bonus.) Dr. Oates marveled over my head control and alertness yet again and told Mom I'd be rolling over really soon.
[I was leaning towards simply going straight from laying on my back to running a marathon with Mom, but SIGH I guess we'll try this rolling over thing.]
Of course, then Dr. Oates stuck a needle in my leg -- both legs. I am not convinced that those fancy Band-aids and telling me how brave I am made up for it either.
As punishment, I decided to continue my nap strike.
Back to that whole rolling over thing: Mom makes me try it when we do tummy time and it's getting a little easier to roll front to back, but I get pretty ticked off. Back to front is something I've done in my sleep a couple times, so I can do it. I get mad, but it takes me awhile to realize what happened. And then woe-is-me...
I mean, why would I want to lay on my stomach, people? What's wrong with you?
Here's my new stats:
- weight: 12 pounds 1 ounce (50%)
- height: 24 inches (50%)
I'm not really so giant, but Mom keeps telling me what a big baybee I am and has graduated me almost completely into 3-6 month outfits (vs stuffing me into some of my older clothes).
And Mom and I finished our infant massage class -- that's her rubbing me, folks, not the other way around.
Wax on, wax off.