I dropped my first f bomb today.
Not bloody likely, given neither the industry I work in, nor my heritage.

It was my first f bomb-dropping while travelling on the subway.

And entirely unnecessary.
I’m finding it interesting to navigate a much more… assertive environment than what I’ve been accustomed to for most of my life.
And I think I’m ok in calling it assertive.
Initially I’d maybe considered NY aggressive, offensive, and hostile at times even.
But I don’t think that’s it.
To grossly simplify, and really give myself permission to explore this every day that I’m here for the next while, there are just so many god damned people here, doing so much god damned stuff, and going to so many god damned places, it’s inevitable that people seem to develop an efficiency in operating that could be mistaken, or could slip, into an aggressive mode… It seems that it’s just a function of the intensity here though. In the time I’ve been here, I’m the only a-hole that I’ve heard mutter an f bomb while being hammered and jostled on the subway. People generally just seem to expect it, and take a shove in no way as a personal or aggressive attack. It’s just being efficient in getting to their next destination.
And a shove is just a way of clearng a path. No harm. No hurt. No ill will.
Aggressive? Assertive? Direct?
It’s still f$*%ing irritating and jarring to my generally reserved, cautious, stand-in-the-back-and-observe nature.
And it extends to other arenas of my life here.
It’ll be interesting to see how this pace and interaction and jockeying changes me over the next while…
Until then, I’ll calm myself down and chuckle at how me and the big dude who also managed to score a rare seat had matching pants tonight…

I’ll also do yet another head shake as I recall the concerts I heard on the platforms today. It was a real spread, ranging from happy Hari Krishnas, being heckled by punks ( no joke), to a Jimmy Hendrix inpersonator, and rounding it out with a Russian guy playing ‘La vie en rose’ on an accordion.

You’re killing me, NYC.

Nothing remarkable here. Just a moment of pause. To remind me of how I want to try to live right now, from moment to moment.
Who knows if that is the ‘right’ way to do it, but it feels as close to right as anything…

It’s been a demanding and busy week. Crowded, and hectic, and a bit chaotic. And tiring.
Nothing at all dramatic, just life in this moment feeling a bit- busy.

So waking this morning, rallying myself for the immediate tasks filling my inbox, I was lacking in a vim, in a brightness, in a hop.
Focused on doing what needed doing,  and trying to use that as a motivator to raise the energy levels.

An extremely crowded and delayed train ride nudged me to treat myself with a coffee. Starting to feel a pick-up, I step out and see one of those classically New York scenes on the street. Suspicious (anywhere else but here it seems) van parked on the corner, doors splayed open and random clothes, boxes, shelves and shovels spilling on to the street, people busily sorting and shuffling said gear- and a line of bald plastic heads lined up on the roof. I’m sure they’ll eventually get hats or wigs or sunglasses to warm their cold heads, but at that moment, there they ‘sat’ looking down on my stunned and tired little face, as horns honked, people hollered, and the air whirred around them.
And I instantly was filled with an excitement, an energy, a reminder of the little moments that lift you, that fuel you, that give you a buzz to get from one slower moment to the next. Bald heads on a  rooftop.  That’s what it took.

Maybe the key that I’m thinking about is managing the swings. Taking it all in for what it is. But managing just how much you feel ready to take in, good or bad. Giving yourself permission to feel to the max if you want to, but also letting yourself walk away or put your head in the corner if you’re not in to feeling it.
Remembering what fuels you. And making that one of your missions in life- to spend as much of your valuable energy on the ups, and doing your best to be as strong and calm with the lows. And looking at things through the moment-to-moment lens, a reminder that nothing is permanent, and everything will change. Like it or not.

Moment to moment.
Beer to beer. Bald head to bald head.

Like many parents I’m sure, I struggle to not get ahead of myself with worry and fret about what’s next for my kids.
For me it’s not about anticipating what they’ll learn next- I have no problem seeing them take in new experiences one day at a time, especially here in our new home. I really do relish seeing them squeal with pure delight at something, oftentimes, ironically, oblivious to the fact that it is something new and broadening for them; it’s these more organic, more spontaneous, more personalized experiences that really fuel me as a mom. To suggest that they’re unintentional experiences, however, is entirely inaccurate, given my tendency to plan and plod, and methodically and very intentionally craft these… It’s still in my control, and still with my vision guiding it. And that all settles me.
Instead, I have a hard time not worrying about whether or not I’m preparing them and me for their academic and their formalized ‘skills’ development like music, swimming, soccer, chess club, banjo interpretive dance theatre class, and mandarin literature study, architecture analysis lecture hall… Or whatever.
I worry about the disservice I’m doing in not having them enrolled, enlisted, engaged in all of these formal programs, wondering what lessons they’re not learning, what confidence they’re not gaining; what damage I’m doing to them.
Logically I know that they’re good. They’re happy, they’re sweet, they’re kind, and they’re learning. I think back to all of the formal and informal learning that my parents guided us through. Lessons and teams and groups. But also many special lessons that happened through focused, respectful, and timely interactions between parent and child.
I realize how much we’re exposing them to with this experience here in NYC, and I realize too that parenting is fluid and evolving, and news flash, we can make changes to what we’re doing with them…

Just when I worry about how I’m letting them down and am convinced that I’m raising two self-absorbed, unaware, little brats, N looks at me while at Rockefeller Plaza the other day, eyes bright with delight, hands flickering with excitement and pronounces that she has the BEST idea for Daddy’s birthday. She describes with very intentional detail the full day, connecting everything to the thread of making her Dad’s day ‘very special’. And then E announces today that he ‘loves me very much this Tuesday.’

There are days when I’m sure I am breaking them, and other days where something is sinking in and they’re growing into socially conscious, kind little turds. Who are also learning the days of the week and the geography of the city.
Thank god.

We celebrated our first Halloween state side last night.

The nice mom that I accidentally invited myself along with a few weeks back stayed true to her very kind words and sought me out at kid drop-off at school yesterday to make sure we knew we were welcome to join their troop of trick or treaters.
We first ventured to the shops in TriBeCa along Duane and Reede streets.
Way too cute seeing all of the excited, sugar hopped kiddies parading up and down the warehouse steps. Hard to tell if the shop keepers or the kids were more excited, really.
After our share of shop treating, we hopped on the subway and made our way to the Village.
And this is where the dream continued… I’ve never been a massive Halloween fan. I like dressing up and since kids it’s definitely been amped up in excitement… Eagerly anticipating their happy reactions, their curiosity just on the verge of fear when one costume or decoration teeters on the line…
The village. Still very new to us all.
But what a place from some dream it is for me…
Tree-lined streets, narrow sidewalks, tucked-away hallways of restaurants, and so quiet…
The iconic brownstones, the rod iron fences, the elaborate chandeliers way, way up those formidable steps.
And us goofs trolling along with a group of welcoming families, the parents all stepping back into our own childhoods and remembering for a few moments that magic we felt each year when our pillow case were filled with packs of chocolate and gummies, and we stayed up well passed our bedtimes.
How special that Halloween fell on a Friday as well this year.
We insisted that the kids layer up, and for a few minutes we neared pulling the chord when Nora freaked out at being a ‘fat cheetah’, with her jacket adding bulk to her svelt costume… None of the other kids had layers above, let alone beneath their costumes, so this might have been a hangover from previous halloweens where hypothermia was a real possibility…

And now November 1st my Starbucks cup is red, and there are tiny evergreens replacing the pumpkins at Whole Foods.
Bring on the turkeys dressed in Santa Claus hats.
I.Cant. Wait!

This past week was full of more firsts. Two firsts of a similar nature, and triggering the same emotions.
I travelled from my unit for the first time, from NYC.
One trip all alone for work, and the second to take advantage of one of the motivators for moving here in the first place- visiting my amazing extended family in Philly, and for this first trip there, I had the little girl in tow.
Both trips were good for very different reasons, but both stirred a weird and unexpected anxiety…

The work trip triggered a sense of anxiety from a very practical sense… Leaving my unit in this city for the first time. We’ve functioned (or ‘dysfunctioned’, depending on the perspective) in an extremely tight unit for 2 months. Bobbing and weaving, dropping off and picking up, flexing and strengthening… All as a core of four for 2 months.
There was no worry from a logistical or safety perspective. It was just a disruption to that new sense of safety, of familiarity, of known… And a place where much else was the opposite.
Arriving back at the apartment at 2 am 2 short days later provided me with a sense of comfort that I was entirely unprepared for. I’d been gone for such a short period of time. But the depth of feeling that I realized that dark and previously lonely night, surprised me…I was coming ‘home’.

The weekend trip came upon me without anxiety.
I was so looking forward to seeing these familiar and welcoming faces. And the time was perfect. Relaxed, comfortable, happy, and easy.
And ironically, it was all of those entirely good feelings that brought a sneak of anxiety. You can’t win…!
It’s a theme…. the balance between shaking things up, being intentionally uncomfortable, feeling unprepared…. And establishing and realishing in a routine, of feeling ease, of unplugging from thinking…getting too comfortable, can, ironically, make you uncomfortable…
This weekend was easy.  And exactly what I wanted.
But it was an important step in the direction if a new ‘normal.’
And because I haven’t been able to imagine what ‘normal’ looks like here yet, it caught me off-guard. We’ve been operating in a bit of a ‘vacation-mode’, where nothing feels permanent, and everything brings with it adventure, good and bad, just like a holiday. We’ve been the ‘new guys’ where there’s a tolerance for effing up, or not knowing what’s where, or not really planting anything.
And this weekend was the first step away from that.
And it’s awesome.
But it’s a shift…

I’m grabbing a coffee after I get off the train that I ride every day this morning. A new, and also awesome, routine.

Here’s a picture from the weekend that sums up why I’m looking forward to some semblance of comfort on the east coast. Wacky and living Philly family. Building a scarecrow we named Tim.

What a weekend.
And just like that it’s Monday…

We tried something a little different this weekend. Although, in fairness, we haven’t really reached that point where we’ve had any 2 weekends resemble one another. Possibly one of the reasons that we, with much trepidation, jumped for this adventure. Like I’ve said, at certain points routine is necessary and comforting, of course. It’s finding opportunities to challenge yourself in a way that is meaningful and reasonable, while also establishing and maintaining some sense of routine… That’s where we’re at right now…

So this weekend we experimented, entirely by chance, with our group dynamics. Sounds all scientific. Other than the ‘by chance’ part I guess.

In terms of activities, my dear, dear friend activities, we struck a balance between intentional, paid, planned activities, and serendipitous happenings… And when that happens, and everyone is comfortable and responsive and enjoying themselves, it’s pretty special.

The boy and I needed some grooming. We were shaggy, as Eli called it. Him, with a beyond-cute-and-in-to-disheveled look hair, me with caterpillars settling in above my eyes.
So, with the end goal of meeting up at the Kids Fall Festival at Madison Square park, one of my favourite parks in the city, we ventured out to find grooming.
And along the way I decided he and I were going to also hit up the New Balance store to get us both some good New York walking shoes.
In the meantime, Brett and Nora laid low, walked the dog, had a coffee, and made there way up to meet us eventually.
It was nothing dramatic, but it was a shift in the normal dynamics we’d been operating with, where we spent most of our ‘free time’ together as a unit…

The next day I took the kids to the children’s art museum of New York. Top notch, affordable, and fun for all 3 of us.
Then as a whole unit, we ventured to the Lower East Side Pickle day. No shitting. And those people take their pickles seriously.
And along the way, we all encountered expected and unexpected..

This morning while rushing home down the same 5 flights of steps that I tripped going up, I noticed something in the middle of the steps…
A banana. A banana. That I looked at, laughed at, and walked around.

We’ve already had 2 sets of guests visiting, and are due for 2 more sets over the next month.
It’s really nice seeing familiar faces, and it’s exciting having a new dynamic to experience our new home within.
As much as I really do cherish these visits, I can’t help but feel some pressure ( entirely self-inflicted) to make our guests’ New York experience amazing.
Take them to special places, orchestrate those iconic New York moments, hope that they too have multiple head-shaking, jaw-dropping moments. And you also hope for seamless arrival from one experience to the next.
As someone still very much learning her way through this amazing maze of energies and experiences, this doesn’t always happen, and I feel anxious at the possible disappointment my guests might feel.
They don’t. And they won’t. Because ultimately this is their moment to respond to… Regardless of what planning or navigating I do, they’re all going to react in their own way, entirely out of my control.
These aren’t clients to be managed, with performance metrics to refer back to. They won’t be evaluating whether or not my itineraries, my routes, my suggested meals met their expectations…!
They’re friends, they’re family, and they’re here to make their own experiences as well.
I guess part of it is just the excitement and energy I feel at the prospect of being able to experience as much of this wacky, amazing place as I can with my little unit. Maybe it’s enough to just land on sharing that enthusiasm as my ‘responsibility.’… The rest of the details will follow….
And when in doubt, hop on a subway. That will still blow most visitors minds for a little while at least…

I tripped going up the 5-flights of stairs today at Grand Central, emerging from the bowels of the subway… After waiting at the first set of stairs for almost 8 minutes due to a backlog of people, I got a little overzealous when I finally reached the 5 flight section that I normally methodically make my way up, in between two jammed escalators.

But I fell.
Not in the slightest bit hurt, other than my ego.

But I was again reminded of how my preconception of New Yorkers as being general rude a-holes was entirely unfounded.

Within seconds three separate commuters all turned ( it was difficult not to notice the loud thud that were my hands smacking down to break my fall on the hideously dirty rubber runners in the steps) and asked ‘you ok?’ ‘ Fine fine, thanks.’ Was my awkward, but appreciative response.

People have talked to me about how you rarely make eye contact on the street here. And whether it’s because I was intentionally ( and again , awkwardly) seeking out eyes, or just a happy Thursday coincidence, I ended up having multiple acknowledging moments on my commute. They weren’t of the ‘oh hi, happy lady!’ interactions, but rather a ‘there’s another human. cool.’ interaction. But it’s more than I expected.

Speaking of eyes and eye contact… We’ve finally started seeing celebrities. And we are very, very subtle in our reactions, which have ranged from frantic and illegible texts between us urging for the sighter to get a damn photo, to selfies with the celebrities photo-bombing ( we’re positioning them as such of course), to full-fledged, intentional arm brushing, to nearly running into one’s ass ( Eli, not us). Eventually we’ll get our city feet. Maybe.
Over the weekend we saw Liev Schreiber, John Krasinski, Jeff Goldbloom, Taran Killam, and Meryll Streep.

Who’s butt did Eli almost touch?

It’s Thanksgiving Monday back in Canada today, and our little unit was lucky enough to enjoy a Thanksgiving meal together last night in our new home.

Partially home-cooked, and partially NYC style, with cooked turkey and mashed potatoes courtesy of Whole Foods….

I was also thankful to have actually successfully chilled the bleep out for a day on a weekend at long last… I had the itchy feeling to check out one of the 86 fall festivals or new exhibit openings, or explore a new neighbourhood, or try a new restaurant for us….
But the kids had doctor’s appointments mid-way through the day on Sunday (kids need to have a doctor’s form signed when entering into the school system), and to reward them for having been poked twice, we took a nice leisurely stroll to the nearest coffee shop, treated them to a chocolatey browny cupcake mass, and enjoyed our treats at our waterfront park…
And that was it!
Finally, a happy glimpse into taking it easy. Exploring and mind-blowing will all happen. And now moments of calm, of giving thanks, of keeping things simple will hopefully happen on occasion as well…

<purple glasses courtesy of Brett taking the kids to a 3D movie the rainy day previous while I was out gallivanting with Jordon visiting town>

I’m not much a theatre person. I’m just not. It’s not that I have anything against it, necessarily, but it just hasn’t been something I have sought out that much.
But I’m living in NYC and it’s my responsibility to expose myself to it already. This city is bubbling with talent. And dreams. And probably more people than not who aren’t going to make it. Either because they just aren’t good enough, because they haven’t made the right contacts, they haven’t been in the right place at the right time…. Or a combination of a few of these…Either way, I owe it to them trying to check out a show or 2…

So I’m thankful that Jordon invited me to join him at Eyes Wide Whut, I mean Sleep No More.
I sort of knew what to expect, so I wasn’t completely panicked. But mildly.  The cocktail on the rooftop helped. As did the 2nd cocktail in the ‘hotel’ bar. That helped.
I’m really glad that I went. I still don’t really know what happened or what it was all about, but it was definitely an experience. And I stalked John Krasinski. (He might have rolled his eyes at me gawking at him, but I’m not sure. ) And wore a mask for the duration of the performance . Or experience? What the hell am I supposed to call it anyway?

If that wasn’t weird enough, our routine was disrupted this morning with Brett having an early offsite meeting.
I did double kid drop, and had extra time, so I thought to grab some breakfast. You see, we had enough food in the house only for the kids to eat breakfast. Really. In the past I would have called that bad planning. Now, I just call it ‘grab something at one of the 87 coffee shops within a 3 block radius.’ And I chose a bakery. A BAKERY. And although the item had quinoa and spelt in it, it was nonetheless a scone. A SCONE. That’s a bad choice.
The next bad choice was thinking that I could eat it on the street on the way to the subway.
Smeared dog shit and meter high garbage bag piles lining the blocks. Who knew it was garbage day today? Smelled amazing.

At least I saw this ridiculousness and laughed…that dog was actually a cow. Or a horse.