Well, folks, I’ve been in Chi-town for the last few days, welcoming my new gorgeous, amazing tiny niece into the world. I have to say, there is nothing like a baby to bring people together, make everyone smile and toss all of the pettiness aside… oh, wait, naw.  These are Jews we’re talking about, people, nothing makes us throw the crazy out- that’s our true joy in life!

What word did I hear (and say) most during this five days with the fam? SHMADA. For those of you that aren’t familiar, let me give you an example: 

“Oy, that’s a shmada outfit she gave you. I can’t believe anyone would dress their baby in polyester! Ugh!”  By the way, I’m pretty sure that it was me who uttered those very words, but I was in good company. 

Some other major Jew-moves from the experience. 

- When planning the baby shower (no, they haven’t had one yet, us Jews don’t count our blessings ’til we’re blessed, we’re far too paranoid for that– what if the thing came out with 4 arms?! What a hassle to return all those gifts!), the first item to discuss: FOOD. First item agreed upon: bagels and lox. Come on. 

- When placing a GIGANTIC carry-out order for six people (that Greek place must have assumed the meal was for 20), make things as complicated as possible. AKA, everything on the side, repeat it back to me twice, and let us valet my car for free when we run in and get it. There’s a baby here, for g-d’s sake! 

- Everyone weigh in. On everything. Let no decision be made lightly. Especially who is going to do what and in exactly what order and with whom and who is driving where and at what time can we meet so that we can plan our next three meals together and then eat and then at what exact time will we be there and then how do we get back?! 

- Everyone complain. Except about the baby- because she is clearly the smartest, most advanced gorgeous thing that has ever happened to the world. And I’m serious, she really is. 

I could go on and on. And at the end of it all, I couldn’t be happier. It was a hilarious, overly complicated, wonderful affair that I wouldn’t have missed a single moment of.  And to top it off, standing in line at the Phoenix airport boarding my connecting flight back to LA (I know, changing planes is so not a Jew-move, but when you can fly into Burbank and miss the LAX drama, it’s worth it)- the most obnoxious woman in line somehow ran into her friend and held up everyone trying to get on the plane as she exclaimed, 

“OH-MY-GOD, Sally, the Bat Mitzvah last night was beautiful! Those decorations, where did you get those?!” 

I kid you not. And it made me feel all warm and fuzzy, because you know what? We’re everywhere, we’re breeding, we’re enjoying our rights-of-passage ceremonies, and holding up the line as the A group tries to board your Southwest flight home.

That’s right, the A group.