NYC Getaway

This trip was a chance for me to quite literally get away from the mundanity and complacency of my life at home. After two back-to-back weeks of Steve traveling and me watching Bub on my own, I needed a break to rejuvenate my soul.

Deep down, I fear a banal existence. I crave creativity, progress, and originality. I seek diversity and difference. Things I miss when I’m living the motherhood routine day in and day out in the ‘burbs. I struggle to incorporate these values into mine and Bub’s life, especially when I’m serving up the same meals and activities everyday.

I knew NYC was the right place for me to get away. I’ve written about my love for NYC before. There’s something about this city that revitalizes me. The array of cuisines, the unique boutiques, the insane museums, the ease of getting to it all by subway. I’ve always found New Yorkers so kind and welcoming. Somehow, I feel at home.

A bit ironic when my very goal is to get away from the word.

This trip, I ate where my heart desired. Fluffy blueberry pancakes with melted maple butter at Clinton St. Baking Company. Hot dog with onions, sauerkraut, and mustard from The Hot Dog King. Sushi at Sugarfish. I pampered myself with a prenatal massage and facial and felt like a queen. I perused secondhand stores with all the time in the world.

I made a point to visit the Crossings exhibit at the Met, where Robert Colescott’s and Kara Walker’s versions of Washington Crossing the Delaware made me excited about art again. I found inspiration in the early 20th century American paintings of our natural landscapes. A reminder of the abuse we’ve inflicted on our environment, wildlife, and indigenous communities in just a short century. I imagined how different the world would be had colonizers learned from them instead of conquering them. Before I left the museum, I stopped and stared at John Brown storming into the frame with abolitionism. For the first time that I can remember, I went to the art museum and breezed by the European exhibits and instead, spent more time in the American ones. For someone who once wanted to major in art history and move to Europe, this was a significant moment for me - symbolic of my recent resolutions in life.

I used to dream about being a mom in the city. Glamorously pushing my baby in a stroller while crossing Fifth Ave - my long hair waving in the wind. Walking through Central Park with my toddler, stopping at the zoo. Discussing fine art with my 10-year old as we ponder a Van Gogh at the Guggenheim. Skipping to a date night dinner with Steve at Gramercy Tavern. Riding the subway on weekends with the whole family.

Then, I had a kid and intense postpartum anxiety. Triggered by cigarette smoke and carbon exhaust, terrified of construction sites and congested places, my dreams of having a family in the city were dashed.

But this trip, I saw tons of children, seemingly everywhere. I saw parents pushing strollers with multiple kids - in narrow restaurants on Lexington, on the subway, in the chaos of SoHo, through the crowds at Chelsea Market, and at 8:30 pm at the Met. I saw parents walk down the street with their kids without batting an eye at the smoker or noticing at all the truck that sped by. These parents appeared to stroll with ease. These parents are my heroes. And guess what, I tell myself, their kids are thriving.

Someday, maybe someday, I’ll bring my kids to New York City. But for now, I’m going to keep it to myself and enjoy it as much as I can.

Trips to Remember

For the past year, Steve and I have been debating where to settle and move our family. We explored moving to:

• Other areas in Illinois

• California (both the Bay and Santa Barbara)

• Munich, Germany

• Ann Arbor, Michigan

• Vermont

• The Berkshires in Massachusetts

• Upstate New York

I made pro/con list after pro/con list. I researched schools, grocery stores, hospitals, and airports nearby. I inquired about rental homes and calculated expenses and savings for every option. We dreamed about hiking in the Alps, learning to snowboard, going to UMich football games, enrolling Bub in a Waldorf school surrounded by forest. We took every idea and ran with it to see how far we could take it.

In the meantime, Bub went from being a toddler to becoming a kid with his own opinions, desires, and needs. He solidified his relationships with his grandparents, cousins, aunts, and uncles. He saw himself part of a community…a community I was so desperate to get away from.

Being in Illinois reminds me of a traumatic childhood, of my social anxieties in high school, of my awkwardness. It reminds me of my unfulfilled dreams of becoming a journalist in a big city, of living abroad, of meeting people who would broaden my horizons about the world. There’s so much more I want to do in life and yet, becoming a mom has put almost all of it on hold or moving at a snail’s pace.

Last week, I woke up with an epiphany. Creating distance between Bub and his current community might hinder him more than sending him to a school that uses pesticides, doesn’t serve organic meals, and isn’t in the mountains. I didn’t want him to resent me for moving him across the country to keep him “safe”.

Sure, I’d love to live somewhere with mountains in the backdrop. Yes, I’d love to hike through the forest every day and find a community of moms who prioritized the same things as me. Of course, I wish I was raised elsewhere and my family lived in ritzy New York or tropical Hawaii instead of in-the-middle-of-the-cornfields Illinois.

But, these are the cards I was dealt and I need to make the best of it. And most importantly, I need to do what’s best for my kids.

Steve and our families were ecstatic about my ultimate decision. Steve breathed a sigh of relief and said, “This makes the most sense financially.” My aunt told me, “I knew you’d come around.” My parents responded with, “I told you so.” I was happy our support system was pleased, I guess. We’ll need their help in August when Baby #2 arrives. I mean, what was I going to do in a new state and town when she arrives and we need someone to watch Bub? Do I deliver on my own while Steve watches Bub? Does Bub hang out in the delivery room with us? Do we pray the delivery is short and during Bub’s school hours? Asking a relative to fly to our new home at the drop of a hat seemed like a tall order.

The one thing I hadn’t figured out was what to do with my feelings of settling. Soon after I made my decision, I woke up in the middle of the night in a panic and feeling restless. I needed to get out of Illinois, out of this house, out of the routine of being a mom, even for just a day. I needed to be reminded of how nice home is. I needed to miss it. Steve encouraged me to book a trip somewhere and he encouraged me to do it whenever I was feeling this way. It could be as small as a staycation by myself or as big as a trip to New Zealand. By allowing them/us to stay in Illinois with a support system, I could leave as often as I’d like and go wherever my heart desired (budget depending). This was our compromise, our solution to settling. Go on trips to remember how good I have it at home.

New England, New Memories

Sometimes the camera can see what I can’t, sometimes it’s the other way around. I can see what my camera can’t. When it comes to fall foliage, my camera just couldn’t do it justice.

In Michigan, the colors were blooming. In Canada and Vermont, most of the trees were bare. The cold winds having blown most of the leaves off their branches. But oddly, they’re where I took some of my favorite photos. In Massachusetts and New York, the valleys were in their prime, covered in majestic golds, auburn, and rose. The same in Pennsylvania which we drove through as the sun started to rise - its golden rays beaming onto the sweeping landscape of every shade of rustic imaginable. Yellows, oranges, reds - oh my!

While Bubba napped in the van, Steve and I took in the foliage blanketing the hills. We’d be talking about random things and then stop mid-sentence to point out the breathtaking russet colors. October is officially my favorite time to road-trip.

For three weeks in October, we explored the east coast. Driving from Chicago and stopping in Ann Arbor, MI along the way. We spent a week in Canada, visiting family in Montreal. We then drove down to Vermont for a week and the Berkshires for another before making our way back home.

My happiest memories of our trip were outdoors. Watching Bub play with goats and chickens at an Airbnb outside of London, Ontario. Early one evening, we spent an hour playing under a huge flowy tree. Enjoying the autumn sun and the falling leaves, we chased each other around and wrestled to the ground. The same can be said for our time with relatives in Montreal, where my favorite moment was watching everyone play Sandman at the nearby park. We lucked out with a warm morning, the leaves on the surrounding trees were flaming red and orange, the streets were quiet from traffic. As I write this post, I can still hear the sound of kids (and adults) laughing. As they darted to and from playground sets, one would yell, “Sandman!”

In Vermont, I relished the freedom of letting Bub roam the secluded property we stayed on. There was a pond at the front of the house, where we chucked rocks and searched for frogs for hours. Whenever our hearts desired, we could walk the wooded trail on the property and listen to the serenity of the trickling stream below. One evening, Buddha and I sat outside and watched the sunset. Breathing in the crisp fall air in Vermont, completely alone - just my dog and me. It was so peaceful and magical.

In the Berkshires, we were amazed at how hiking to a waterfall, shopping at an organic co-op, and eating at a delicious patisserie were within a 20 minute reach. There was always something different to do and explore. The vibe reminded us of California, though the aesthetic was very much New England. We felt strangely at home.

There were ticks. There were triggers. Bub ate his weight in snacks in the van, smoked sausages for breakfast, and went a day or two without eating something green. But, this trip brought us closer to what makes us happy and gave us closure on what we want the next chapter of our life to look like. For that, I’m grateful.

Ann Arbor

Nelson Meade County Farm Park

Munched on apples, flew kites, climbed boulders

London, Ontario

Cockiest cock

Goats nibbling my sweater

Sweet baby Grace

Jack to the Jill

Bub’s first trip to the mall

Unknowingly went through entrance with arcade

Montreal

Mount Royal Park

My cousin’s wife makes amazing homemade Afghan food

Been dreaming about her aush noodle soup since the last time we visited

Bub’s first shaved ice and bubble tea experience

Gardens of Light at the Montreal Botanical Garden

Vermont

Maple candy at Baird Farm

Give me all the organic maple syrup

Berkshires

Hawthorne Valley Farm Store had organic items I’d never seen before

Race Brook Falls

“Mom, can you take a picture of me?”

Thank you, New England

“Autumn is a second spring, where every leaf is a flower.”

— Albert Camus