While Powergirl and I are head-over-heels in love with the newest addition to our family, there is one being in the house who definitely doesn’t like L that much: Coomer, our cat.

Before the baby, “Cooms” was king of the castle, the object of all the affection we could muster on any given day. He had free reign of the house. He slept with us. He watched TV with us. We talked to him as if he were our child.

Now, of course, things are remarkably different.

For starters, we’ve shrunken his world, closing off the nursery and our bedroom (the two rooms in which the baby spends most of her time) to minimize L’s exposure to cat dander. Because he can no longer sleep with us, he meows all night long, necessitating bedtime seclusion in the (climate-controlled) garage, which we can cordon off from the rest of the house with a pet door.

We’ve done our best to make life out there humane, tricking out L’s first bassinette with one of Coomer’s favorite blankets and providing an ample supply of food and water (as well as a clean litter box).

Other changes in the home environment relate to our supply of available attention and affection; put simply, the baby takes up most of it.

Between feeding L, changing L, playing with her and related day-to-day chores (laundry, prepping dinners, etc.), the two of us certainly have our hands full. The result is that Coomer is left to spend much more of every day entertaining himself.

He’s gotten pretty good at it. His take of hummingbirds and voles has increased exponentially since L has arrived, and he chases more spiders now than he has since his days as a kitten.

To keep the cat happy, we strive to make him feel wanted. Every morning includes at least 15 minutes of Coomer-time, most often a love-fest on the couch. At night, once the baby goes to bed, we slot another session—usually one that involves string, crumpled paper, or something else he can chase.

As I type this, the little guy is curled in a cinnamon roll on the couch in my office: a room that previously was off-limits but in recent months has been demilitarized as part of this campaign.

Despite these efforts, when Powergirl and I think about how life has changed for Coomer, we feel guilty. We wonder: Does he actually like our home less these days? Is he is sophisticated enough to identify L as the source of the change? If the answer to both of these questions is yes, do we need to worry about the cat suffocating our baby girl to get rid of her once and for all?

At the end of the day, I’m not sure it’s tenable to raise a newborn and treat pets the same way you always have. I keep telling myself our cat is lucky because we still feed him, love him and give him shelter every night. Hopefully, at least until L gets a little older, these will be enough.