Ok. So this rolling over thing is really getting out of hand. Cy is one lean, mean, rolling machine. And I, the victim left in its wake. I put him down for a second, and I really mean a second, blink, and he’s already on his tummy.

Of course, moments later, he starts to scream. Because, well, what’s there to do once you’re on your tummy? There’s not much of a view. He refuses to learn how to roll back over, and crying seems as good as anything else at that point. I then rush to flip him back over. And we do this over and over and over again. All day long. Not only is the repetitiveness of this driving me bonkers, it also means I cannot put him down for a second. Unless I strap him in to something. So that means no showers, no pee breaks, and no time to eat. And if you’ve ever tried to spread nutella on bread with one hand while holding a baby in the other you know this is a futile task. Sigh.

At the end of the day, Cy might feel a sense of accomplishment for having really mastered this maneuver. But I feel like I’m living out my very own Groundhog Day. What a nightmare…

Gotta go. He’s rolled over again.