You know when your baby-crazy self is cooing over the newborns on Only Simchas for the second consecutive hour and you start getting this Proustian synesthetic flashback to the sweet smell of that white-wine-dijon new baby poop and...
What, you don't hang out on Only Simchas? Well, then you're just missing out.
It's a window onto a parallel world, let me tell you. It never ceases to amaze me that people still have six kids, and still name them Faigie, Yankel, Shlomo, Yitzie, Tzvi and Rivki. Very sweet. Of course, I do know a reform Rabbi that named her kids Zilla and Bluma. But I think she was kind of being a smart ass.
I also like to check out the upsherin listings. For those not in the know, orthodox Jews, particularly the Hungarians, don't cut their sons' hair until the third birthday. The first haircut ceremonies are called upsherins. I know that some reform families are "reclaiming" this practice, but if any male child we have is blessed with the shag Cedra's always had, he'd look like Joey Ramone by six months. I think we'll pass.