Baby talk

The Dining Set is in!

We spent our first Shabbat dinner on our sparkling new table, set with a white table cloth, the fine china and crystal, and a thick layer of protective plastic. That protective plastic will be there until baby Atilla stops trying to chew her way through all of the furniture and books. My baby teethes like a beaver.

Disclaimer: that's not actually my dining room.

That's a picture off of the furniture store website. Nothing in my apartment is that coordinated or free of books. The girl's room was more-or-less coordinated, if you ignored the white wrought-iron crib that clashed with the wood bed and dressers. I even had matching pink princess-motif duvet covers, until my sweet royal declared: "I'm itchy ootchie ouchie!"

As adorable as that sounded, the poor child was really scratching from head to toe. We pondered the possibilities: New shampoo? no. New detergent? no. Lice (heaven forbid!)? NO (thank g-d!). New comforter? Down comforter? Yes, and yes. My Dora look-alike's comforter was causing her great discomfort. Her daddy switched it for his synthetic fiber comforter, so until the cover is washed, daddy has a pink princess blanket draping his bed. Cute, cute, cute.

That's not the only mishap in the apartment.

My brand new, sleek, black cell phone is missing. This is my first cell phone, I've had it for less than a week, and I've already misplaced it. I strongly suspect the baby. She's a mischievous imp, and there's no telling what she's done with it. We've looked everywhere, but she's too clever to put it somewhere obvious. She may have flushed it down a toilet or gnawed it to bits and swallowed the evidence. There's no telling what a teething toddler is capable of.

We can't get her to talk. She's keeping mum. I can get her to say, "ba", which means ball, "gragger", which means cracker, and "a-da" which means all done. But when I try to get the location of the phone, I get an angelic smile, and incomprehensible babbling and cooing. That is clear evidence of her guilt. I just know it!

Not even grandma will be able to save her adorable behind if any part of my cell phone comes out if it.

Grandma went back to San Antonio yesterday. It was a really nice visit. We got to see Chicago, spend time together, and talk. I know she has concerns about me being so far from the family, and raising these kiddos on my own, once my husband starts school. I share her concerns. He's definitely the level-headed one in the family. I'm not the most patient mom in the world, especially under stress, which is always. I love those kids more than life itself, but I can be a pretty tough taskmaster. I pray that I'll find the serenity and humor to see us through my husband's first year of school. At the very least, I hope I get better at hiding those buttons they love to push.

Parenting is the hardest thing I have ever done in my life. It is such a balancing act of setting fair and reasonable limits. I don't want to be a pushover, but I don't want to be too demanding, either. I tend to err on the side of nit-picking. They are such good kids, I'm really blessed. They are smart, sweet, thoughtful, and funny. They have great instincts, and wonderful sensitivity. I could learn a lot from them, I think.

My husband's orientation starts Friday. I'm bracing myself for the flurry of activity to begin. I've seen the movies, I know what to expect. In fact, I've already warned him: you're going to have a reading assignment due the first day of class - the professor will pick on some poor shmuck who didn't get the assignment. Don't be that guy!

In a week, it all begins. Pray for me. Pray for my kids.

Don't worry too much about my husband - I've got his back.