Short stories with a comical twist on the daily obstacles, aka adventures, of parenthood

Category: 01 Month Old

I gained a new superpower, the Rolly Polly, the ability to roll from my belly to back and vice versa

Rolly Polly Dora

I used to dread Tummy Time. It was one of the worst exercise programs a baby can endure at 1-month-old, unlike the one I teach. Every time Mommy announced, “Dora! It’s tummy time!” my stomach churned. She would plop me helplessly face down on the mat, squishing my face on the floor like playdoh as I struggled to breathe.

Why are you torturing me?

Although, with practice, I gained some neck strength, abs, and even arm muscles. Eventually, I could lift my head a centimeter higher than before. I could also lie on my back, gently rocking from left to right, generating enough momentum until I roll over halfway into a sideways plank for a few seconds. It required an immense amount of ab strength, balancing my left arm and leg in midair with only my right side touching the floor. But it was worth it to gain my new superpower, the Rolly Polly, an ability to roll from back to belly and vice versa.

Why would anyone choose to walk? It’s no fun at all.

With Rolly Polly, I can just roll across the room effortlessly like a runaway dice. My favorite spot is underneath the dining chair, specifically Izzy’s, where crumbs and leftovers are plentiful. I’ll snack on the dried blueberries and half-bitten toast, don’t waste it, am I right? Underneath the desk is also a good hiding spot from that monster in the ceiling disguised as a fan, what if it finally decides to eat me?

I wonder if I can request an upgraded version of this superpower to roll, pivot, AND reverse, so I won’t be stuck facing the wall all the time.

One downfall to the Rolly Polly is there needs to be a warning sound when Izzy’s thundering feet are millimeters away from crushing me as she zooms past me after bedtime, re-enacting Lady Godiva (running down the hall without clothes).

I guess Mommy’s always right; Tummy Time was good for me after all.

Baby’s VIP Dining Experience

Below is a conversation between Daddy and the 1-Month-Old Hurricane Dora before breakfast.

Baby: Waah (whimpering)

Daddy: Welcome to Mommy Cafe. Did you make a reservation today?

Baby: Waaahhh (cries – level 1)

Daddy: I will put you on the waiting list. The head chef will be here shortly (Mommy is in the restroom)

Baby: Wah Waaahhh (louder cries – level 2)

Daddy: Yes, she is coming. Your meal will be ready soon. Today, we are serving the finest liquid gold with a hint of aged steak and baked asparagus.

Baby: Wah Wahhh Waaahhh (fist-fighting and screams – level 3)

Daddy: I know, it’s taking a little longer. There is no need to get physical. Yes, you are speaking to the head manager. Your complaint has been noted.

Baby: Wah Argh Wahhh Argh Waaahhh (kicking and high pitch screams – level 4)

(Mommy sat down on the rocking chair and getting ready to nurse)

Daddy: The head chef is ready. We have a mandatory dress code. Here is your bib before your meal. Enjoy (Daddy handed the Baby to Mommy)

Baby: Humph, humph (catching her breath while drinking large gulps of milk)

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