Charlie

You are either a dog person or you have a dark soul.

Ok, that might be a bit of an over exaggeration..

However, I am a definite dog person.

I had Cheeba long before Dev and I got married, and it was definitely a blended family and Dev was required to marry and love us both. And Cheeba had to go thru all necessary steps of becoming ok with the new man in my life. I won't even get into Cheebas state of mind when Brody was born, but I will admit that I asked the vet about anti-depressants and a dog therapist to help with the transition. Cheeba was my first baby. Judge me all you want.

So anyways, a few days ago I was trying to figure out what to get everyone for Christmas- I came across an adorable ad for French bulldog puppies. A DOR ABLE. So I took a picture of the ad, and posted it on my Moms facebook account, telling her that I was getting Dad a puppy for Christmas. To my ultimate surprise, she replied something along the lines of "I don't want a puppy, I'm a dark souled puppy hater, but if your father wants a puppy, fine" what?!! That was a total green light for operation puppy for christmas! I called my Dad and said "do you want a puppy for christmas??" And he said "YES" so then I said "AWESOME! This particular puppy is really exspensive, want to pitch in on your own Christmas presents??" :) and he did. So much for the element of suprise. 

So I bought an 11 week old French bull dog- my Dad already had a name picked out. 

Saint Charles Barkely the Third.

We call him Charlie. 

Or Charles. 

Or Charles in Charge.

Or Puppy fart

Or pup pup

Or snuggle pup

Or lazy loo

Or a variety of other ridiculous things.

 He is so cute. And lazy. And rolly. And a definite puppy. We are puppy sitting until around Thanksgiving when we can make the great puppy exchange. 

The first night home we got Charlie all fed, took him out numberous times in our effort to potty train, set him up with a nice soft bed, and per puppy expertise books, kenneled him off to a confined area. And we went to bed. 

Sort of.

A few minutes after lights out Charlie was very sad. Very very sad.

Dev and I laid in bed and had this conversation.

Me: maybe he's hungry?

Dev: he's fine, you just fed him, let him cry it out"

Me: he's so sad. Maybe he needs to go to the bathroom?

Dev: take him out then

Me: I took him out last time

Dev: I don't think he will settle down for me, he needs you. 

I stagger out of bed, let Charlie out, comfornt him, calm him down, sing him a song and put him back in bed.

He cries. 

And cries. And howls and cries. 

Dev: maybe he's cold? 

Me: I might just go get him and put him in bed with us

Dev: no! He needs to learn. Let him cry it out. He's fine.

I wake up again and make sure it's warm enough. I decide it's not, so I move his whole ensemble of stuff into the bathroom, heat up a rice bag, and turn the drier on for some white noise soothing. Calm him down, and sit beside him until he is mostly asleep. 

I wake up 3 times in the night to tend to his cries.

The next day I am exhausted. 

Welcome to parenthood. 

Again. 

It's funny right? So insane and ridiculous that it is funny.

So anyways, if I'm looking a little rough, it's because I'm a brand new mama with a new born. We are trying to establish a schedule and routine and it's hard! 

Oh puppy parenting.