My wife and I have been joking that our baby is advanced. He tends to hit milestones early, and we have been quick to brag about it. He rolled over fairly early. After it happened, I called relatives, sent some emails, and made a PowerPoint slideshow to commemorate the accomplishment. He also slept through the night at a young age. I may have informed our neighbors via loudspeaker immediately after it happened. It was a wonderful morning.
When he first started smiling, I got in animated arguments with people who claimed it was caused by gas. If some guy at the grocery store wanted to point out that my baby had gas issues, I would simply let him know he was out of line. “Say he farted. Say it one more time.” Okay, that never happened. But it could have. Those smiles were authentic. I think.
This morning, my wife and I noticed that little Oliver is getting awfully close to crawling. He gets his legs up under his body, and then starts to push forward. Unfortunately, his body shifts forward onto his unsteady arms, and he tips over like a cow. It’s adorable. After a few tries, he lays out like a beached whale and moves his arms and legs like he’s trying to swim across the living room.
When he finally gets the hang of holding his body up, I will be sure to let everyone know. Or I could just wait a couple weeks, and he’ll probably be able to tell you himself. He’ll drive up to your house and yell at you in your driveway. Seriously, he is advanced.