Needless to say it’s been an adjustment for us…and the animals.
First of all, if you’ve never seen this – watch it. It’s pretty accurate.
So, Huck is actually doing better than I anticipated. In fact, he is fairly certain that it’s his baby and I don’t have a damn clue how to parent.
He has this need to be near her at all times. Like right up on her. Which is super cute until you’re trying to nurse and he’s right there making sure she has a good latch.
He’s been on high alert and constantly guarding her. He also now barks at EVERY SINGLE TINY SOUND because he is on such high alert. You’d really think we were under attack. So, that’s fun.
The only good thing about him being on high alert is that he’s absolutely exhausted by the end of the night and crashes hard.
And then there’s Oprah. Oprah could give zero fucks that there is a baby and I’m fairly certain hates us for bringing a baby into her house. She has ZERO motherly instinct (which is fine, because Huck has enough for both.)
Oprah has really only been around the baby twice – and I think those were accidents. Once was when I was wearing her and she didn’t realize there was a baby when she climbed onto me and the second was when Kevin’s mom and Grandma were over – Oprah thought they were here to visit her, not the baby.
The first week we were home with Brooke Oprah would race up and down the hallway outside of our bedroom door, yawling like a whack job and throwing herself against our bedroom door in protest of said baby. It’s effed up when your lack of sleep is because of your cat and not your newborn. Due to her terrorism, we have set up a room for her in our laundry room downstairs, at the furthest point in our house from our room, that has a bed, food, water and a litter box. She seems fine with it and doesn’t protest when she goes to her “room”.
Damn girl, that's a lot of fattitude 