First the news, folks.

A little poem goes:
There were two in bed
And the little one said
Roll over, roll over!
And they all rolled over.

Ila simply delights in this poem. Its accompanied by me tugging on her legs and then bending one knee and helping her roll over. Yesterday, Joel shoulted at me to come in the room (we were housesitting at Doug and Susan's in Berkeley) and there was Ila, nearly rolled over, trapped by one arm. Then last night (back at home sweet home) in her cosleeper, she woke up cranky and hungry. She was lurching around and Joel said "She rolled over!" I came over in time to see her on her tummy, holding herself up in the classic baby pose, looking sort of bewildered and still cranky and hungry.

Then this morning I witnessed it myself. I'm wondering how much longer I'll feel safe letting her sleep in our bed for a nap. Hopefully if she rolls over and keeps on rolling she'll go towards the cosleeper. It'll be a fall, but only a 3 inch fall. Bearable. I think. I just pray that she doesn't roll the other way, in which case it would be about a 3 foot fall. No I do not want to see that. In any case, I've got to get Joel to capture our little "roll over" exercise on video before it's just a foggy memory. And maybe I've got to think about getting her into her own bed, though it makes me sad.