Maybe you should have worried! These people are crazy! Let me list the ways:
- Dad won't leave me alone in the room and he just stares at me from the rocking chair. How he can look at this view all morning, I'll never know...
- Mom can't stop moving furniture into "a nursery," even though my gilded cage has books, windows, a TV, 2 stereos and its own changing table.
- Whenever I start fussing because a "movement" is coming, someone swoops me up and starts comforting me.Think about that for a minute. Imagine peacefully enjoying your time in the rest room, when suddenly someone 27 feet tall swoops down, picks you up, puts you on his/her chest, and starts patting you until you fall asleep. Not funny. All I want to do is poop.
- They take me on rides in "a car" to visit a person called "a pediatrician" who takes all the measurements my nurses in the NICU did at my bedside. Why can't they do it themselves? For those interested, in the 3 days since my discharge, I went from 5 lbs 9 ounces to 5 lbs 13. Next stop, 6 lbs...
- They let me eat as much as I want, whenever I want it. At the NICU they gave me 45 ml on the dot - no more no less. Here, I'm already eating twice that!
This one takes the cake: they clean me in an actual bathtub, wearing robes. I feel (and look) like a Roman God. Here's my first ever shampoo:
The robes get warmed by the water so it keeps me super warm. I got so warm I had a nice big yawn mid-process:
Believe it or not, that's a sign of extreme comfort. I love the bath. Last and best of all, Mom dries me off:
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