Not a whole lot.
Jack and I have fallen into somewhat of a routine. Being home with a baby is not the most...interesting life in the world. It has its exciting moments, we have fun, and I certainly enjoy every minute of it--well, maybe not every minute. (There are those days when he is cranky and clingy, and I can't wait to hand him over to Kate when she gets home.) And don't get me wrong, so far I am very glad Kate and I decided for me to stay home. But being home with a baby everyday does not make for the most thrilling days. Excitement for me now is leaving the house or talking to another adult.
Colin and Amy are staining their new bookshelves in our garage, so they have been coming over almost every day for a little while. I am sure it amuses them that I start talking a mile a minute, non-stop as soon as they walk in the door. And it is not like I have earth shattering news to tell them. I just need to talk to someone that replies with real words and not ooo, errewerreeebabuah, followed by a tongue sticking out with drool. Actually, I get much the same response when I talk to Homer, too.