AMAZING BABY COMPLETES FIRST ROLL: The dog is unimpressed.

Millie rolled over yesterday. I KNOW. I don't think I've ever been prouder of anything.  My pride glands are going to explode. This baby is a CHAMPION. I spent the afternoon clearing off shelf space in our family room for her future olympic medals.

Millie has been training for this for quite some time. For weeks and weeks now, she's been taking every opportunity she gets to try and roll over.

• Is mom changing my diaper? I'd better roll over. 
• Is mom trying to put me in my carseat? I know, I'll roll out of it!  
• Uh oh! It looks like mom is trying to put clothes on me.  Time to roll!

This must be how Nastia Liukin's mom felt when her daughter was training for the Beijing games. 

Two weekends ago, we were visiting my sister Kelly and her husband Patrick. What do you think Millie did while we were there?  She fucking practiced rolling over, that's what.  She was SO CLOSE. The four adults just sat around her blanket all night, cheering for her as if we were at a world cup soccer match.  If we had any vuvuzelas at the time, we certainly would had used them.

Meanwhile, there is one member of our family who is unimpressed at Millie's recent accomplishment.   Cricket keeps looking up at us as if to say: "Guys, I can roll over too. I've been doing it FOR YEARS. (Not that you care.)" And then, just to rub it in Millie's face, she rolls over effortlessly again and again on our living room carpet.

It's honestly pretty hilarious.  Here is our baby, working as hard as she can to squeeze out one baby roll, and the dog is next to her on the floor, thrashing around like-- well, like a crazed, attention seeking labrador-- which is exactly what she is.

Is gets worse.  Millie is also starting to enjoy Peek-A-Boo.  So, theses days we spend a lot of time covering our faces and asking in a loud playful voice "Where's Mommy?"

From across the room, Cricket's ears perk up. "I KNOW THIS ONE!" she announces triumphantly, running over for praise and attention.

"Dammit Cricket, get off this blanket!" We say.
"Millie, Where's Mommy?"

"MOM! MOM! Look at me. I found you. The Cricket found you. I found Mommy! The Cricket is a GOOD DOG."

And so it goes.
Poor Cricket.  I'll admit it must be pretty confusing. I hope the baby doesn't take an interest in shaking hands or begging next, or the dog is going to really feel supplanted.  As for Sean and I, we're not too worried.  We know that the dog's feelings will be a lot less hurt when Millie gets old enough to throw cheerios on the floor.  In the meantime, a little competition is not necessarily a bad thing.  If you want to raise an Olympian-- as we certainly are-- then it can actually work in our favor.  So Millie, if you're reading this--WHERE IS MOMMY?  Oh, you can't find her?  That's funny, because I think there's someone else here who can.  And-- I don't want to alarm you or anything-- but I hear she's got a pretty impressive roll...