Julian liked to stand at the patio doors of Andy’s parents house and talk to the White Cat. That’s his name, by the way. “White Cat”. He makes a really obscure noise instead of meowing, and the first time Julian heard it, he looked at me quizzically and said “piggy?”

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Some of my favourite photos Amber took last weekend:

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The past five days have been the best days of my stay-at-home career, to date. We’ve been playing in the park, taking walks to post letters, building towers, learning more stuff, riding scooters, making pizza dough, pretending Robin can talk to Julian because it makes Julian laugh, and playing MegaMan. Julian’s been happy and obedient, beaming and shouting ‘SWING! SLIDE! FUN!’ anytime he realises we’re en route to the park, Robin has been taking predictable naps and waking from them smiling and content, and I’ve been downing good quality chocolate chips. So, if one were to ignore my appearance as much as I manage to, the past five days have actually resembled the lifestyles monetized by various bloggers, minus the Pinterest hair-do’s and dependence on Anthropologie. I’m not sure why this week has felt so easy. Maybe my brain stopped being a sea-sponge, or Julian’s steps towards autonomy have been more pronounced, or maybe my babies are just trying to convince me to stay at home with them forever instead of even considering stewing over the quandary of starting a PhD sooner rather than later.

I didn’t enjoy the wedding but I’m definitely enjoying the marriage. Here’s to a million more anniversaries.

Julian’s been running around in a blanket I was given for Robin’s use. He puts the hood over his head and comes to find me so I’ll announce ‘SUPER BEAR!’ and he can take off running. He instinctively puts his hands out behind his back as he runs which lends some legitimacy to the generic superhero flying pose.

I feel bad for Julian at the moment. He is loved more than he ever was, but the influx of visitors (and of course the new permanent addition) has him a bit confused. He was doing really well until my sister left. He really liked having her around and twice he asked for her after waking up and was disappointed she wasn’t in her guest bed downstairs when he’d come down for breakfast.

After Rachel left, Andy’s sister arrived for a bit to watch Julian while I came back from the hospital. I felt fine enough to leave the hospital an hour after giving birth, but that wasn’t exactly advisable. I stayed for the minimum period of time, but even that was too long to be away from Julian for me. When I went home on Saturday morning, Emilie brought Julian outside to greet us. He stood peering through the bannister bars at the top of the stairs. He was smiling but his eyes were welling up with tears as he started saying “Mama! Mama! Mama!” which broke my heart. I know he’s attached to me, but more often than not I see him hankering for Andy. It felt both good and terrible to see that he’d missed me.

I sang a poor rendition of College’s ‘A Real Hero’ at Andy recently because that’s what he’s been. I did better singing ‘Heads, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes’ for Julian but my efforts were sincere on both counts.

I was tired this morning, so when Julian woke up at 6:20, I let him play on the computer next to me in bed for a while so I could at least just lie still for a little longer. He played a couple alphabet games then he set it aside and laid his head on mine whilst petting my hair. I felt a little bit sad when I realised that the day will eventually come where Julian no longer wants to be my best friend. He’ll stop running to me so I can kiss his injuries better and he won’t scramble into my lap for a story. I’m so happy he’s growing up to be such a funny little boy, but I’m going to miss him like this, lap-sized and curious.

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I was reading a ton of people’s arguments for why they’ll never have kids. Some of them made sense to me in theory, but I forgot what they were when I noticed Julian sitting on the sofa pretend reading to himself.