Friday, September 21, 2007
Adjusting
As I guess you might expect, those members of our ward who aren't native to Brooklyn (or who didn't emigrate from a foreign country to settle in Brooklyn) are transplants from the West. Like us, they've uprooted themselves from sprawling communities and suburbs in Utah or California or Idaho (or Indiana) to come to New York City for school or an internship or a new job. So Blake and I are very much not alone in our efforts to adapt to a completely new urban lifestyle. At any ward gathering -- church on Sunday or playgroup, for example -- I am asked by quite a few people about how well we are adjusting. So far my answers to them all sound the same: "Oh, there are good days and there are hard days." And then everyone nods sagely in empathetic agreement; they've all been there, done that.
Some things are starting to become second nature to me. Things like packing Garrett in the Snugli and walking down to the supermarket where I squeeze my baby-bulky self through the teeny-tiny aisles to pick up our groceries for the week, and which I awkwardly carry home. Or like lifting an unbelievably heavy bag of dirty clothes down three blocks to the laundromat, again with Garrett strapped to my front, where I part with my ever-shrinking collection of quarters to wash our linens in industrial strength washers and dryers alongside my Chinese, Russian, and Italian neighbors. Or planning for the extra time and leg-strength it will take me to walk the countless blocks to the park, the library, the bakery, the bank, the pharmacy, or the department store. I don't think twice anymore about these activities. And in that way I feel like I'm adjusting quite well to my new life here.
But some things aren't as easy to get used to. You'd think that with all the practice I'm getting, it would get easier to carry Garrett in his stroller up the three flights of narrow stairs in our apartment building when I'm worn out and sweaty from all the walking around the neighborhood that I just finished. But apparently it doesn't. It's still heavy and awkward.
One of the things I'm having the most difficult time adjusting to, though, are the long days. A typical workday in NYC (and I think, actually, all along the East Coast) lasts from 9:00 to 6:00, rather than from 8:00 to 5:00, in order that business with California can still be relatively easily conducted even with the three hour time zone difference. With an hour commute into and back from the city and crowds to wade through, Blake has to leave the apartment at 7:30 in order to get to work on time, and he usually doesn't get home until 7:00 or 7:30, depending on how fast or slow the trains happen to be running during the evening rush hour. If you don't count the times when he has to get into work early and/or stay late, like he had to yesterday, that's a 12 hour day! And if you do count the deadlines that require extra hours, we're looking at more like 15 hour days. I won't lie: it's hard. It's hard to have dinner ready for my hungry husband on those days when my baby won't let me put him down. It's hard when the schedule Garrett's fallen into requires me to be feeding, bathing, and putting him to bed at the same time Dad comes home, which means that I have to decide what's more important: Garrett spending a bit of quality time with Dad and going to bed late, causing him to not sleep as well and to wake up cranky the next morning or a good night's sleep and a pleasant tomorrow for Mama. (Usually we alternate nights.) It's hard to find time when I'm not run-down and exhausted to spend time with my husband.
But, you do what you have to do, I guess, and we're learning to get used to it. It's a good life, but like any good life, no matter where you live, it's sprinkled with with good days and hard days. Thank heavens, though, for weekends! Just because I don't spend my daylight hours in an office anymore, it doesn't mean I don't pine for the companionship and rest that the weekend brings.
Some things are starting to become second nature to me. Things like packing Garrett in the Snugli and walking down to the supermarket where I squeeze my baby-bulky self through the teeny-tiny aisles to pick up our groceries for the week, and which I awkwardly carry home. Or like lifting an unbelievably heavy bag of dirty clothes down three blocks to the laundromat, again with Garrett strapped to my front, where I part with my ever-shrinking collection of quarters to wash our linens in industrial strength washers and dryers alongside my Chinese, Russian, and Italian neighbors. Or planning for the extra time and leg-strength it will take me to walk the countless blocks to the park, the library, the bakery, the bank, the pharmacy, or the department store. I don't think twice anymore about these activities. And in that way I feel like I'm adjusting quite well to my new life here.
But some things aren't as easy to get used to. You'd think that with all the practice I'm getting, it would get easier to carry Garrett in his stroller up the three flights of narrow stairs in our apartment building when I'm worn out and sweaty from all the walking around the neighborhood that I just finished. But apparently it doesn't. It's still heavy and awkward.
One of the things I'm having the most difficult time adjusting to, though, are the long days. A typical workday in NYC (and I think, actually, all along the East Coast) lasts from 9:00 to 6:00, rather than from 8:00 to 5:00, in order that business with California can still be relatively easily conducted even with the three hour time zone difference. With an hour commute into and back from the city and crowds to wade through, Blake has to leave the apartment at 7:30 in order to get to work on time, and he usually doesn't get home until 7:00 or 7:30, depending on how fast or slow the trains happen to be running during the evening rush hour. If you don't count the times when he has to get into work early and/or stay late, like he had to yesterday, that's a 12 hour day! And if you do count the deadlines that require extra hours, we're looking at more like 15 hour days. I won't lie: it's hard. It's hard to have dinner ready for my hungry husband on those days when my baby won't let me put him down. It's hard when the schedule Garrett's fallen into requires me to be feeding, bathing, and putting him to bed at the same time Dad comes home, which means that I have to decide what's more important: Garrett spending a bit of quality time with Dad and going to bed late, causing him to not sleep as well and to wake up cranky the next morning or a good night's sleep and a pleasant tomorrow for Mama. (Usually we alternate nights.) It's hard to find time when I'm not run-down and exhausted to spend time with my husband.
But, you do what you have to do, I guess, and we're learning to get used to it. It's a good life, but like any good life, no matter where you live, it's sprinkled with with good days and hard days. Thank heavens, though, for weekends! Just because I don't spend my daylight hours in an office anymore, it doesn't mean I don't pine for the companionship and rest that the weekend brings.
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12 comments:
I can't imagine having to lug my laundry three blocks with a baby in a sling! Of course, you will be fabulously fit in no time at all with all this exercise, but I was exhausted just reading this post! The stroller up three flights of stairs things is pretty awful. No way around that one I guess.
I'm glad that there are good days. Take a lot of pictures on them!
Just reading this post made me exhausted! What an adventure you are having though!
I appreciate your candor. I think most moms could empathize on some level. There are, indeed, good days and, well, not so good days. But keep blogging, because it's all so interesting for me to hear about. Here I am, living in a little hayseed town in the West, reading about a friend in the thick of one of the busiest cities in the world. And yet we have commonalities. How great is that?
This reminds me so much of my sister-in-law! I will pray for good weather for your laundry and shopping days---and for daddy to be able to have moments with baby Garrett when he is at his happiest.
Desmama -- it's true. And isn't it great? It's nice to know that, in a way, we're all doing the exact same things. That, no matter where we live or what our circumstance is, we all still share similar struggles, adventures, and joys.
Oh Linds, I can't even imagine. Maybe you should petition for an escalator to be put in your building!
All the walking and carrying would be the hardest adjustment for me. At least you'll be in great shape.
My sis-in-law never sees my brother (they live in Connecticut, he works in NY); he works long hours, some Saturdays and even holidays. And this is in the corporate world. She is very frustrated with this, as she has 3 little boys to mother and take care of. But like you said, you do what you gotta do. Hang in there.
You are hardcore. I thought of you as I trekked all over the city the past week. think of how healthy you guys are being! Also, I just realized that the stroller lugging up the stairs will probably get harder, since that little babe is just going to get heavier and heavier.
I forgot the positive part! Once baby G gets older life will calm down a little and you will have more time that you aren't exhausted to spend with Blake. Things will get better. And one day Garret will walk up the stairs with you. I really think this is is the hardest part of baby/childhood. Hang in there!
Jenny - Yeah, I'm hoping that my muscles will get bigger and stronger alongside Garrett's getting bigger and stronger. At least that way it wouldn't seem like he's getting heavier as I carry him up and down all those stairs. :)
Wow. Flashback to Holland. I couldn't wait for my weekend, 15 hour days, and lots of lifting the stroller up and down many flights of stairs (with a heavy load of groceries). You can do it. These days in NY won't last forever, but you'll always have fantastic stories and pictures. And what a place to explore! A temple in the same city! And all the free stuff/events? NYC is awesome and so are you.
Wow - I think we all agree that you deserve a Super Mom award and matching shirt! I've had to do the carry-the-groceries blocks and up stairs thing and the laundry thing - but not with a baby strapped to me or a stroller to boot. A couple of my good friends did, though, and they kept the strollers chained up at the bottom of the stairwell.
That would be a hard adjustment - I say good for you for acknowledging it and working through it. And I'll be watching for those biceps when we come to visit!
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