Like a rolling stone

My baby rolled over today, from her to back to her tummy respectively. And I missed it. I was sitting right next to her and I missed it. There I was typing away at an email message while my little girl was grunting and straining to get her big head to roll over with the rest of her body. I heard her grumbles and muttered a few you're okay's and just one more second, and when I finally looked down I remember saying to her "oh, no wonder you're grumping. You're on your arm. Let me just....wait! You are on your arm! On your tummy! But I put you on your back!" I was so proud. For a second. Then the shame of bad motherhood swept over me.

How could I have missed such a pivotal moment in her young life. I pictured the future in a flash. Me painting my nails while she took her first steps, me yakking on the phone while she learned to ride a bike, me fiddling with my walker while she graduates from high school. Just nominate me for worst mother now. Instead of college, we should just save for her therapy. They blame it all on the mother anyway. Now I know why. All of those poor souls in therapy now are probably there because their mothers missed it when they rolled over.

I'll have to consult my baby manual on this one (HA! Did you seriously think I actually had a copy of this elusive booklet!), but I wasn't aware of the fact that your child decides to do all the cute, wonderful, new tricks when you aren't looking or even expecting them. So far, I've missed her first smile (given to her Aunt), her first laugh (given to Grandma), and her first explosive poopy diaper (thankfully given to Dad). I've decided that I must never partake in any extracurricular activity again. I must stay home and watch my girl 24 hours a day. Forget eating and sleeping. NO! I must be there to witness and record every glorious moment of my precious gift from heaven's life. Just think of how close that will make us in her teenage years.

I can hear the therapist counting his money now.