Progress

I have to send you off to read two posts, one by Kate of One Tired Ema and one by Jody from Raising WEG.  They both relate to my post today.  And yes, it is a rather self-indulgent post, and yes, I know I am lucky to have such problems.

We are spending the weekend in New York, C LOVES the symphony, and so I finally got my act together last year and bought some tickets to the Young Person’s Concerts.  I had meant to do it the year before, but had forgotten the cardinal rule of ticket buying in New York, if it involved bettering your child you had better buy the very first second tickets go on sale.  The concert itself was a bit disappointing from a grownup perspective, there was a LOT of talking and explaining and very little actual music playing.  C would have preferred more music as well, but he was still thrilled beyond belief to actually see the inside of Avery Fisher Hall after listening to broadcasts from there weekly for the last few years.

Coming into the city since we moved to the burbs has always made me sad, as every time I come back I get desperate to stay.  I miss the ability to walk out my door and have my choice of places to eat, things to see, people to watch.  I miss having exercise automatically built into my day thanks to all the walking city life demands.  I miss being able to run to the fruit stand on the corner for more bananas.  As a result of my disinterest in opening old wounds, I generally don’t suggest we venture in for any reason.

But?  Almost seven years after the fact?  I think I have finally adjusted to suburban life.  I came in, was happy to see the symphony, am looking forward to showing the kids Central Park, and will be just as happy to return home to my house and my real life.  I think part of it is that seven years later, pretty much everything familiar has changed.  The restaurants I used to eat at are all closed.  The last of my friends have left the city, and now that the kids are old enough that we would actually have to deal with the whole schooling issue, I find myself rather uninterested in shelling out $30,000 for a kindergarten education.

So, come Sunday afternoon I will happily head back to my suburban life, with very little interest in spending the next several weeks trolling NYC real estate listings.  I will not, however, happily head back to the every day grind of making the lunches, cleaning the house, doing the laundry, or trying to keep the chaos in control.  I was sure, absolutely sure that once both kids were in school for more than two hours a day, all of the drudgery would miraculous get easier.  “I will have time to  cook, clean, work out AND read!” I would think to myself all summer as I shlepped the kids to and from the pool, the park, the playdates.

Well, it is fall now, and I have made it to the gym exactly once.  In two months.  The house is still constantly in need of a good scrub, my cooking generally consists of dumping something in the crockpot or re-heating a not-so-yummy something from Trader Joe’s, and I haven’t read a book cover to cover since this summer.  I find myself saying things like “Well, NEXT year, when they are both at the same school….” but really?  That will buy me another hour, tops.  Of course it doesn’t help that I filled my schedule with various and sundry volunteer activities.  As my sister pointed out, I really have no one to blame but myself on that front.

So yes, while I am not at all interested in returning to my city life, my suburban life is not exactly anything to write home about.  One of these days I will figure this all out, maybe?

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Comments

  1. I would still love to live in NYC again. I don’t see it happening, but oh, how I would love it.

    I am close enough to take the train in for the day, but I haven’t done it yet. I need to.

  2. You need an all plastic house and kids that are willing to run around naked, That will cut your cleaning and laundry time drastically.

  3. I think I am going to come to the conclusion that it doesn’t matter how many kids I have or what size house we are living in…I just won’t have my shit together as well as other people (or other people seem to?). At the end of the day it’s nice to be happy and to be able to blow off the chores and snuggle in the quilt, you know?

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