Table for Three

My wife and I have a nasty television habit. It isn't so much that we watch a lot of it; it's just that the stupid thing is on all the time. Constant background noise. All day, all night – it's just sort of always there.

Which is fine. Every once in a while it feels like I've got voices in my head and need to grab the iPod (like now) or work outside (too cold). But other than that, it's fine.

At least until Babe-O came along. Babe-O also enjoys the TV and her little eyes jump at the thing every chance she gets. We'll catch her watching with one wide eye while she's nursing, or enjoying the flickering of the TV's reflection in the window.

Basically, we try to discourage that sort of thing. Except, of course, during dinner.

Dinner time has always been in front of the TV for us. Maybe that's pathetic, but the TV trays stay out day and night. The kitchen table is pretty much a catch-all for modern day debris like the mail, little piles of baby laundry, and the diaper bag.

Well, tonight it was time to take a stand. As soon as I got home today, Babe-O and I suited up and went to work ("suited up" referring to Babe-O being strapped to my chest in her Jeep baby sling).

We cleaned up the kitchen quickly, while she hung on my every word as I told her what all the kitchen crap is (spoon, fork, digger thingy, little chopper guy, giant spoon, another &%$# giant spoon, etc). Then we unearthed that kitchen table like a couple of Siamese archeology majors.

Once everything was cleared off, we gave it a quick wipe-down, using lemon juice and water at the recommendation of our slightly hippyish pediatrician ("mercury-based vaccines are no big deal, but Windex will kill your ass"). And if I do say so myself, it is a good-looking kitchen table. Many thanks to my Aunt-in-Law for donating it to us when we got our first apartment.

Anyway, we got the table cleared off and then stuck one of the chairs in the corner to make way for Babe-O's high chair (thanks for the high chair to another Aunt-in-Law).

Then, for the first time, we had a little family dinner together. Babe-O is still 100 percent breast fed, so she just watched us and played while we ate. She was obviously a little uneasy about the situation at first, but eventually settled into playing with a spoon and a cup and even made a little conversation with the occasional cooing.

I enjoyed it much, and think that the girls did, too. Call us retro, but I think we've got a new routine on our hands.