Stranger in A Foreign Land

A stranger in a foreign land, that’s who I am this month. I don’t know the language, the transit system, the dishwasher, or even the toilet.  The last time I had to make this many adjustments, I was a ten-year-old child in the Philippines.  Nothing is remotely the same as my home in Texas. A quick trip to the grocery store this afternoon involved a brisk four-block walk in the snow to buy and sack our groceries in bags we supplied. On the return trip I learned to walk as far away from the road as possible. That lesson was reinforced by a total dousing by a passing bus.

I’m not the only one making adjustments. My daughter, Megan and her husband Ben had their first child in Budapest last week. My airline ticket had been purchased for months, but the little guy came a week early. I missed his birth by four days, but I'm here now and making up for lost time.

Ben never changed a diaper before Grant was born.
He figured it out with common sense and some pointers from the internet. He pretty much takes care of all diaper changing duties and considers it a great source of father/son bonding time. Who am I to disagree?

Megan takes care of all nutritional needs

and likes to dress her new doll.

We equally share the opportunity
to adore this sweet baby boy!

Ben and Megan chose to have a home birth assisted by two midwives. A pediatrician made a house call to evaluate the baby and gave him a clean bill of health. The lactation consultant also made two house calls so the family didn't have to leave the house. However, when a little jaundice showed up, everybody bundled up for a trip to the pediatrician for a blood test.

Ben and Megan don't own a car and utilize public transportation.
Little bear got his first trip in a taxi. Bless his heart,
we stuffed him in his snowsuit and buckled him in.

His bilirubin was high, but not so dangerous that it required treatment, still it did require another visit to the pediatrician and blood test the next day.

Once again, he was wrapped up tight. This time in his stroller.

and took his first tram ride.

This week has been full of firsts or all of us. My children’s language teacher generously provided a crash course in Hungarian, just enough for me to be polite. My name, “Lace” translates in Hungarian to “Csipke”. It’s exciting to be able to introduce myself in Hungarian, however that is the extent of my interaction in a musical, but difficult language.
I'll let you know how it is going -- Sziasztok! Csipke.