Today, I am one week old.
I was due to be born today, but I've proven myself to be stubborn since the very beginning. On July 23, I came home from the hospital with mommy and daddy. Home is very different from the hospital, it's warmer, it smells different, and people only come in when I need them.
My new surroundings include a really big dog named Apollo and a fuzzy kitty named Bella. Both of them are very watchful over me - they both want to make sure I'm okay every time I cry. I haven't had much of a chance to get to know them yet, but I'm sure I will soon.
The first night home was very hard. I didn't know how to react to the new surroundings, so I woke up often. A big storm came in early in the morning, making sleeping even more difficult. Mommy stayed right by my side all night - and daddy woke up with me every time I stirred as well. I heard mommy and daddy say that the nights will get better, I hope so.
At one week, I've accomplished:
7/22 - started scooting on my belly while on mommy's tummy in the hospital bed.
7/25 - started trying to hold my head up - it's still very heavy, but I try every chance I get.
7/26 - learned to put my knees up under myself and snuggle up like a little peanut and practiced scooting on the floor.
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