The City

There are certain things I love about living out in central Connecticut. I love the cost of living, the scenery (it's alot like upstate NY which I looove), there is never any traffic unless there is construction or an accident. I feel like for the most part, you know what you are going to get up here. When I drove home from the city, I feel like once I pass the first sign on the Merritt for Greenwich I can sigh with relief and relax into the next hour and a half home. The schools are great, the homes are old and charming and you should see the trees in October.

That said, there are things that I miss about living in the "city". ((air quotes)) I grew up on Staten Island and loved it as a kid. I loved the train and the ferry, being from New York City. We lived in a big house with a yard and a pool. We had beaches and parks and ponds. It was a great place to grow up. Real neighborhoods, tree lined streets, and baseball fields. And there was something very special about being a part of something bigger. A self satisfaction and quiet smugness  that came with being from the best place in the world. We had the Yankees, the Brooklyn Bridge, the Empire State Building. Our class trips were to the Statue of Liberty and the Twin Towers. My 7th grade field trip was to Philadelphia and the Franklin Institute. I can remember thinking, "this is it?"

As I got into high school and college I started to realize that maybe it wasn't for me anymore. The stereotypical guidos, now made famous by shows like Jersey Shore, Jerseylicious, etc. were there, and in your face. I was a Gap sweater-wearing Catholic school girl with my eye on the Martha Stewart lifestyle. To me, all of Connecticut was Westport. Also the locals and the landscape was changing. Native Staten Islanders were moving to Jersey and the Brooklyn and Queens people were heading westward to the Island. Developers were knocking down centuries' old Victorians and putting up Soprano's style duplexes and mini mansions. Pale brick and stucco was the new topography. I met people in college who were from upstate and Westchester and Rockland county. I had always lumped all of "upstate" together and thought they were a bunch of hillbillies. Unsophisticated and rural. I learned the term "downstate" and wore it with pride.

After college I met my husband and moved to Texas, Virginia, Massachusetts, and finally Connecticut. It gave me so much perspective on the country, other people and myself. I had a hard time accepting that I was never going to live in NY again, but still consider myself a New Yorker. This Thanksgiving we went down to my parents' home that I grew up in on Staten Island. The next day we drove into Manhattan to visit my inlaws. I am still awed and amazed that with all the changes New York has gone through over the centuries, so much stayed the same. I love the idea of letting my kids keep a foot in both worlds. To learn to love the city and to gain a sense of culture and history that I feel is a little bit whitewashed out of their everyday.

Suburban Detox

I'm a sucker for marketing. I was at Ocean State Job Lot today and bought the Kinoki Cleansing Detox Foot Cloths. You know, the ones from the commercials, where it pulls all the toxins and heavy metals from your body, and is drawn out into those disgusting foot pads. Regularly $19.99. I got mine for $2.99. I'm giddily excited for my detox to begin. It's totally going to work. I can just tell.

Freedom

I got a little job. I haven't worked for anyone but my kids for 9 years, and I finally got what appears to be the perfect job for me. I will be logging Legislative Bills into a database for a political consultant. I'm finally putting that masters degree to work by doing data entry. From home. For 1-2 hours a day. And the pay is good. Way more than I would make doing anything else without completely disrupting our day to day. It starts in January, I guess when Congress is in session. I'm a little nervous to give up the freedom I have gotten used to. This is the first year that I have all 3 kids in full day elementary school. I don't mind giving up those few hours. But I've already had to ask for a week in April and just realized today that my husband will need me to drive him to and from his Lasik surgery on January 6th. Ugh. I'm afraid to ask for that day off. It doesn't seem like a big deal, but the work is time sensitive and needs to be done by noon each day. Keeping my fingers crossed that the job doesn't start until the 8th.

Well Rested

I got a great night's sleep last night. A legit nine or so hours. No one woke up, no coughing, no accidents, no little kid noises that wake me up out of a sound sleep. I honestly feel like a different person when I have a full night's sleep. I would have thought that by the time my youngest was in kindergarten I'd be back to normal. Now it's 930. Chris is sneezing, Meg is coughing the kind of cough which will undoubtedly have me lying in my bed listening to her, while she sleeps right through it. I still have to do the nightly bathroom runs before I can turn in. And I haven't put sheets on my bed yet. Shit.

bitter

i drove past the old house today. we've been here for a little over 2 years now and almost every day i drive past our previous home. it was SUCH a hard move. my beautiful brick colonial, set back from the road with the long sweeping lawn on the BUSIEST street in my town. that's the house i brought 2 of my babies home to, and put in a ton of sweat equity to make it look and feel exactly the way i wanted. we renovated the kitchen and put in beadboard cabinets and granite countertops. my dad installed everything and helped us out with so many projects.

the closing of that house went very poorly, with the new owner trying to fleece us for every penney we put in escrow, having her lawyer find archaic state laws to screw us over. for example, did you know that in connecticut, if you remove the nails from your walls you are required to repaint the room? i thought i was doing her a favor by not leaving nails all over the walls. she wanted $3K to repaint the entire house. it took me a while to not get sad about the memories of my home and to try not to feel vindictive toward the woman who bought it. and it usually doesn't bother me anymore. she doesn't do a great job with the upkeep, and all of my hydrangeas (one for each mother's day that i lived there) looked overgrown and sloppy this summer. sometimes i make a snarky comment to a friend about the crap that she leaves on the porch and her tacky holiday decorations or feel superior about what a better job i did when it was MY house.

it's definitely harder for me to walk past it, as i did with meghan when we did our red wagon food drive last week, or if i see the woman or her son outside, which is almost never. today her son was hauling leaves in a wheelbarrow down to the curb for leaf vacuuming. i felt a little bitter. i don't know why.

Here's our current home. I love it.

Baby Girl

Oh, my Meghan Rose with your tantrums and your Polly Pockets and sparkly eye makeup.... you are a dichotomy of all things little girl. Your crazy hair, which I flatiron (I know... She's only 5 and we only do it on special occasions) and your scratchy baby voice and your hot pink faux fur coat. You pack a wallop when your brother gets in your business and you are the most sensitive little monkey if someone says something marginally hurtful. You get it. You always have. I think that's part of being the youngest of three.

When you were 2, you were pointing at the cd player, getting so frustrated at me asking over and over for "sanna tanna". I popped in about seven different holiday cds thinking you wanted Santa music. You balled up your fists and stomped you feet and finally made it clear to me that you wanted Hannah Montana, not Santa Santa.  Another time when you were about 3, we were at the library where there is a stuffed, life size Big Bird in the children's section. You asked me "Momma, who is that big bird?" "Ummmm. That's Big Bird." Nope, you had no idea, you missed the Sesame Street years, but you were still a baby.

Typical.. you are blowing out your sister's birthday candles.

My Boy

So up til now, I've really only talked about Erin. She's my oldest and alot like me in personality and unfortunately probably the one who will be carrying most of my baggage as an adult. I haven't said much about Christopher. He's 7 and smart and funny and handsome. He started reading when he was 4. He barely had any words until he was 2, but one of the first complete thoughts I remember him having (out loud, aloud, whatever) was when he was 26 months old. It was December and it was supposed to snow. We were looking out our picture window and I commented on how it may not snow after all, since I didn't see any flakes. He replied "aaaand there's no condensation." What?????? We had been watching Magic School Bus alot on tv in those days, but that was more than even I could have gathered from Ms. Frizzle and the gang.

I like to describe him as "fact based." He's a good boy, mostly well behaved at other people's homes. He's been picked to be a "peer mentor" in kindergarten and first grade friendship groups at school. I guess that's a good thing. He's not perfect, loves to toss out a few age appropriate expletives (idiot, pathetic, stupid) which I don't love. He thinks bad breath and stinky armpits are cool. He only wears sweatpants, which posed a problem until I was able to find a pair of elastic waist, lined khakis at the Gap, so at least he won't look like George Costanza on Thanksgiving Day. He loves Legos and Star Wars, and especially when those two worlds collide in Lego Star Wars. He's a great little brother and a marginal big brother. I'm hoping he comes around on that, but he's had more practice with the former than the latter. He takes things personally and carries a wicked grudge. He's funny and has a quick sense of humor. He laughs at his own jokes and sisters call him out on it. I like him as a person. Obviously everyone loves their kids, but I value the fact that I also like him, and think he's turning into a pretty neat kid.