Let's talk about "resilient"

So there's a new person living in my house. She's just three and a half months old, a couple of feet tall, less than 15 pounds, and she rules our world. Her name is Katelyn, and she has us wrapped around her little finger! She's been through a lot, even in such a short amount of time. They say kids are resilient.

She's been to restaurants.
She's been passed around like a hot potato at Tim's workplace, and my workplace. And my workplace again. And again. And again.
She's endured hours of loud movies when she was awake. And when she was trying to sleep.
She started eating baby food.
She's been in a car for five hours when we drove to my parents' house (the drive usually only takes 3.5-4 hours).
She's slept in a playpen. And in a bassinet. And in a car seat. At home. And at my parents' house. And at daycare. And in the car.
She started daycare.
She had Momma all to herself for ...14 weeks?

Tonight is the first night that she is sleeping upstairs, in her own bedroom, in her own bed (well, it's a crib that converts to a bed). And she seems to be doing just as fine as she was doing in her playpen in the office in our bedroom. But me? And Tim? I don't think we're quite as resilient.