This tiny person is a wiggler. Big wiggler. Not that I hadn't already figured that out while pregnant with him. I have to admit though, as annoying as his wiggling is, it is still quite...impressive.
He can roll over already. AWESOME. This really alleviates all of my fears of him getting wedged under the dryer or rolling off of a cliff. At least for now, he does it only when he gets supremely pissed, though. Figured that one out at the doctor's office when he got mad enough to roll off of the exam table right into Dr. Farnsworth's arms. I can't blame him, though, trying to get away from those cold old man hands.
This baby cannot sleep well unless he's swaddled...but here's the rub: he hates being in a swaddle. This situation marks my first parental experience of I-KNOW-YOU-DON'T-LIKE-THIS-RIGHT-NOW-BUT-TRUST-ME-IT'S-FOR-THE-BEST-SO-CALM-DOWN-CHILD frustration. But even when I win the wrestling match and strap him into his velcro-powered swaddling blanket, he doesn't given up the fight (all while maintaining his poker face).