First off, someone asked….forever ago…about how to pronounce Kellan’s name.
I’m finally remembering to address that. I apologize for the tardiness. My brain doesn’t function at all like it used to. I told Tim I felt like I was getting dumber by the day (he says it’s from sleep deprivation. Obviously, he agrees…about the dumber part).
Anyhow, it’s Kel like Kelly (Kel-ly) and like land without the d. Kel-lan.
Now, about the five fur children.
We have five four-legged ones running around on top of caring for Kellan.
I’m not sure how we’re not in the loony bin, either. Maybe we are.
Since we brought Kellan home, the dogs have been ridiculously excited – especially Maddie (golden retriever). It’s like he’s a shiny new toy that they cannot play with just yet.
Lexi, the chocolate lab, had taken up the protector role. She barks at the door if a delivery has been made. She sits at the window in the spare bedroom and barks at anyone she deems suspicious that walks by. She even barked and snarled at Tim when he walked in the front door instead of the garage door, where he usually enters.
Once she realized it was him, she acted all embarrassed like, “I was just kidding…”
The pair still get super excited when Kellan is on their level, like in his swing or bouncer, but I still don’t let them lick him. They eat rabbit poo in the backyard. I refuse to have rabbit poo on my son’s perfect little face.
The dogs have mostly figured out that:
A: Kellan comes first
B: Dad is now the sole provider
C: Mom is too preoccupied for
D: Kellan comes first
So, they mostly lay around all day, sighing, dreaming of the good ol’ times when
mommy used to lay around all day with them we went on long walks most days.
They have figured out that the stroller = walk, though and ZOMG if they aren’t tagging along.
As for the cats…they all have mostly disappeared.
Alegre absolutely lives in the basement, now. It was about a 60/40 split but now it’s more like 95/5.
She only comes out to eat or when Kellan is inconsolable. She’ll do this worried, high pitched meow all, “You two are doing something wrong. Obviously.”
I rarely see Gracie unless I’m in the kitchen and then she hauls her fat ass in there as fast as she can, sliding to a stop on the hardwood floor all, “I’m staaaaarrrrvvvviiinnnggggg!!!!”
And she never is…she just likes to beg for handouts with the dogs.
That’s where you can find her, mostly. Palling (Like “pal” as in “you’re a pal!”) around with the dogs. She thinks she is one and do she’ll walk right alongside them, tail draped over their back, purring her fat little head off.
To be fair, Alegre and Gracie never were lap cats to begin with. I think Kellan just pushed them over to the, “I’m a cat and I don’t give a shit” side. If they want attention, they’ll seek it out.
(All of the cats are fat, by the way. I’m not picking on Gracie. Chloe is probably the biggest)
Chloe….sweet Chloe…still tries to be Chloe. The only cat who is lovey dovey, pet me all the time, I want to live attached to your hip (I was going to say inside your asshole but I was trying to keep it mostly PG. But now that I’ve gone and told you….fail).
Chloe is the only one of the three cats who hasn’t seemed to be as phased by Kellan. She still comes and hangs out on bed or couch or wherever we are. Actually, she’s sitting on the bed, paw on my shin, right in front of me as I write this.
It took her a bit to get used to the fact that Kellan was, indeed, a real live thing. The first time she crept up on him while he was sleeping in his cosleeper to investigate, she failed to account for randomly moving body parts.
Then, just as her nose is about an inch away from his body……
Up shoots Kellan’s arm.
Up rockets Chloe like she’s just been struck by lightning and off the bed she flew, not to be seen again…for a few days.
I’m guessing she had to go and recover from the mini heart attack given to her by phantom arm!!!
She has a self-imposed five foot radius rule, now.
They’re all adjusting quite nicely. Obviously.