Tummy Time

I didn't know something called "Tummy Time" existed prior to reading a gazillion baby books, but apparently, it's extremely important. So, in order to work his muscles, build his confidence, keep his head from becoming flat, and all the other millions of things the baby books claim tummy time does, we have a tummy time session at least once per day. We are definitely making progress...I'm a little biased, but I give Liam an A+ in tummy time. He can lift his head up 45 degrees (sometimes a little more) and is starting to make motions like he wants to roll over - he just can't get all the parts and pieces going at the same time. He got a pretty big assist for the "on the side" picture below.

I've learned, through experience, that tummy time should always be on a blanket, even if he's already on something soft, like our bed. Unfortunately, things tend to leak during tummy time...diapers, regurgitated formula...let's just say our sheets saw the washer a few times one week and then we finally got smart (and bought a second set of sheets, just in case of a sanity lapse).

I like tummy time because I get to use it as a chance to take really awesome Liam pictures. He's so darn cute when he's trying so hard to get it all in motion. Okay...again, biased mommy...he's cute all the time. Here's some pictures from today's tummy time session. I was having more fun than he was.

I need tummy time, too, apparently. Even though I weigh less now than before I was pregnant, somehow, all the squishy parts did not go back to normal. The squishy-ness has banded together and formed a pouch (really...like kangaroo pouch minus the hole for the baby roo). I'm not even sure how you go about getting rid of said pouch. It's not where normal squishy resides...it's traveled a little farther south. Fortunately, I can pull my pants up over it AND I have shirts that have a little room at the bottom to help hide it, but still...it's not fair when I manage to delete a fair amount of squishy molecules and the remainder decide to mutiny and band together to cause ridiculousness like kangaroo pouches.

I know, I'm a broken record with the tummy troubles. I guess I figure if I bitch about it enough, maybe I'll be motivated to get off my butt and do something about it. Step one would be to give up drinking the sodas...fat (pun intended) chance. Then, I wouldn't be able to function let alone contemplate exercise. With all the amazing things that science can do, can someone please invent true "diet" Dr. Pepper?!?