So it’s been a week of some pretty classically ‘New York Moments.’

Relocating home base has forced us to evaluate a whole lot of things. We are not unique in the juggling game- if anything, we are so fortunate to have as many opportunities and gifts that we do need shift and shuffle and rearrange and prioritize and capture in words, in pictures, in feelings, in memories.

This week was especially….poignant. In many ways, it had moments that so intensely reflected why we made the decision to move here. At a point where we were feeling uncomfortable, uncertain, unmotivated, and unhappy with our safety and our stability ( so ironic), we jumped into this, with no credit to us for any planning or seeking or coordinating or searching in any way. It was really just presented to us. Us assholes, as stated so humbly before. We ‘deserve’ this is in no way, but we are damn-well committed to making the most of whatever this means.

After attending the second of wack-job of wack-job New York events this week ( this one much smaller in scale, but still coloured with an off-Broadway performance (no joke- legit actors singing about the injustices of the princess stories we were raised with) and a room full of incredibly bright, motivated, f$&€ing smart and authentic women ), I came home to ask Brett ‘what he believed in.’ It being Good Friday and all he asked ‘ like, in terms of faith, or…’. No. What do you believe in? What do I believe in? What do you want to stand for?

I might have earlier responded awkwardly with a cute and comical ‘f*#k if I know !’.

But that’s no longer enough.

We are here. We are all counting. We are all mattering. As small as a speck as we are.

I suppose that helps me to articulate that I believe in that. I believe that in as small a way as there is, we can impact each other. And we need to be gentle, and kind, and generous, and respectful and aware.

Brett’s response- life happens and you make the most of it.  We do our best, we try our hardest, we do our kindest, smartest, most sincere acts… And the rest happens….

I’m somewhere in between buying that, and feeling still both a bit cynical and a bit like I’m not doing enough, not pushing enough, not setting the bar high enough.

Prior to the event above, our ‘gang’ here participated in varying (as in VERY varrying) degrees of activities at the goddamn United Nations.  It’s funny- there’s a very fine line between humility (holy shit- we’re at the effing United Nations) and naivety ( holy shit-  we’re at the effing United Nations). See that whole fine line? Being respectful and appreciate and in awe, and also being strong, and informed, and aware, and involved and affected.

Tonight we went for a larger family dinner to a place that we collectively agreed could just become our new Sunday dinner place. A little trattoria, 3 blocks from our place in tribeca, friendly, loud, great food…. The server tonight actually shared my name. First and middle names. No joke.

We’re feeling happy, reflecting on the wackiness of the week, enjoying the comfort the kids are feeling here, and already settling into this place as ‘ours’… And then a cockroach falls on the table. The table. And one person smashes it. And then another. And then the group of adult realizes that the first 2 smashes are useless and we need to ensure that said fu&$er is dead. And we all smash our fists in the vicinity. And there’s a crunch. He’s gone.

We tell Sarah ( she had an ‘h’) and she rolls her eyes, ‘well, it IS an old New York building.’

So – United Nations, Google, and cockroaches in one week.

Shuffling work and kids and home.

One day, one hour, one hippy moment at a time.

Whatever works.

Leaving this panel this week that I watched, the speakers shares their their advice in closing:

-do something. Make it small and easy. And do it tonight.

– listen. That’s how you put the right questions out there

– imagine intensities for yourself. Don’t compromise on your values. Don’t waste time; start now.

– follow a few new people that you can listen to; greatest gift is finding new ideas and new inspirations. Think about something that you really care about and share it with your friends. Ask for feedback from friends

So. Ya.

I’ve also heard people say that it’s all about you managing and controlling your own time, and that’s true and valid and important, I realize. But it’s just hard also keeping others’ time in mind. No shit. But really. Saying ‘make your time count. Do what matters to you. Do what counts.’ It’s all so valid. But sometimes that makes your kids mad. And your husband tired. And they’ll deal; they’ll get over it. But it still counts.

And this is why we breathe and yoga. And try again tomorrow.

I tried something new today.
We had a really great weekend. It was relaxing, inspiring, focused, fun, new, easy, exciting, and… Relaxing. I felt so lucky as we were winding down Sunday night, really reflecting on how nicely everything came together, and how fortunate I felt on so many levels to be able to be experiencing this.
And when the usual panic and dread and pace of Monday-morning readying started to get to me, I really used the energy and good fortune that I recognized and appreciated so much from our weekend to anchor myself. I actually said out loud a few times ( I’ve been talking to myself with increasing frequency since moving here- I’m really fitting in nicely) ‘We were so lucky to have had such a nice weekend. Today is going to be ok.’

As I’ve aged and gained some perspective on both the fragility and beauty of life, I’ve moved away from the ‘just get through today in order to get to tomorrow, which is one step closer to the weekend’ approach. It just has such an undercurrent of potential for sour disappointment; it’s not every day that feels like a gift, like a treasure, like something to be cherished, but there is a hell of a lot that does fit into this category, and I am trying really hard to keep that as present as possible.

But what made this weekend so great?
Saturday we actually felt like we sort of ‘belonged’ to a community for a bit, and neither of us realized that that would actually feel ok…
There was a free Easter Egg hunt that we were invited to through some parents at the school. And I invited some other families. Who showed up.
Of course it was on the rooftop of some random building in Tribeca with expansive views of the Hudson.  But other than that, there was the usual symphony of screaming and snotty-nosed kids, parents looking like they could use an extra shot of espresso, and Pherrel popping along on the distorted sound system. But the kids had a great time. And it resulted in a bunch of us all heading out for a lazy lunch at a Roaring 20’s (inspired or legit, who knows?) bar…spicy Bloody Mary’s for the big kids.

But then this happened…

After our easy lunch, we were then on our way to the Talent Show at Nora’s school to watch her buddies perform.

I made Brett stop and get us flat whites at Hugh Jackman’s coffee shop while I grab $5 roses for her pals from the bodega for after the performance.
The kids and I round the corner to meet Brett outside the coffee shop and I see an Escalade and a driver waiting and think ‘holy shit. I wonder if Hugh is in there today.’
No. It’s Josh Groban.
Brett comes walking out behind him and I’m giving him the ‘holy shit. That guy is Oprah’s pal and forSURE unknown to you because you’re not a 55 year old woman’. He doesn’t get it.
And I explain who he is and he says , ‘he moved out of the way so I could get my Instagram shot, and then ordered a cappuccino .’

From there I’m certain that Josh is going to make a guest appearance at the talent show.
He doesn’t, but basically every kid that performs definitely has at least one parent at Carnegie Hall or on Broadway.  ( and a kindergarten kid sang ‘hooked on a feeling’ acapella. I’m still laughing. I dare anyone to listen to the words and picture a 5 year old singing them without hesitation. )
Our kid’s teacher let us know in our interview this week that Nora is fitting in nicely but that she’s still quite shy and hesitant to speak up or stand up in front of the class. No shit- she’s moved from a sweet and happy little city to, well, THIS!

After the 2 hour show, this same kid handed out her flowers to her performing pals with her brother in tow, and then the four us headed home to order pizza….

Sunday was a day of unscheduled exploring… Started off at Economy Candy, making our way over to the Village for a coffee, and then me enjoying some alone time strolling through  Soho where I bumped into (I might have moved) Elizabeth Banks at the Pearl River Mart check-out. Pretty sure she and I would be friends.

So after a weekend like this I have a combination of ‘what kind of assholes are we to be able to be doing this kind of stuff?’  and ‘soak it alllll up while you can’ thoughts. And facing as many Mondays as possible with a grateful and determined smiled.

I dare you.

We’re leaving the city for hilarious desert California in less than a month.

We were fortunate to have another one of those weekends chalked-full with planned and unplanned experiences… And I’m finding that submitting to the possibility of both of those experiences- some of them timed and researched and coordinated, and some happenstance, allows one to fill up on the nutty and inspiring and buzzing energy that is New York.

In one weekend, we were able to eat in a cavernous subterraneanian restaurant that’s been on our ‘list’ for months, putz around in or favourite world-class museum without rush or itinerary, listen to singers on and off the subway, stroll beneath iconic landmarks where more musicians sang their hearts out, sip some of the best hot chocolate I’ve ever tasted, watch the flocks of pigeons from park benches in more iconic parks, all the while delighting in everyone’s special reaction to these classically romantic New York experiences…. And, yes, there were moments of negotiating through piles and piles of overflowing, and unapologetic garbage bags on even the prettiest of streets, without answer to the ‘is it always like this?’ question…. And there were moments nearing the end of the busy 2 days when there was more squealing in the whiny flavouring than the delighted flavour, but it was a reaction… Spring is in the air, we hope, and we’re excited for a new season in the wackjob of a place..

I’m reading this book.

It’ll be neat to see our reaction to NYC  upon returning from Palm Springs in April…!

We are moving offices today.
I think because we knew this was the eventuality, I’ve always looked at the current space and neighbourhood as temporary.
Transferring each morning at Times Square, to then exit at Grand Central- temporary. Hopping on at Wall Street on other days and hopping off Grand Central- temporary.
Taking the occasional stroll at lunch past the United Nations- temporary.
So I haven’t really established any regular ‘spots’ in the current area- no delis with a fall-back sandwich, no favourite coffee shops where they know my order ( although Grumpys did offer me some early morning solace on occasion).
It’ll be an interesting adventure to now actually establish and commit to the new space and neighbourhood.
Work out the new kid shuttling routines, become accustomed to the new view from the windows, coordinate coffee stops…
While away from ‘home’ this week people asked me what I thought of New York.
How in the hell do you answer that?
It’s awesome. It’s crazy. It’s intense. It’s kinda dirty. It’s a bit overwhelming. It’s inspiring. It’s tiring. And it’s here for us to explore.
And as temporary residents of the city ( for now anyway), I find us trying to strike that balance in becoming woven into the fabric of every day sort of living, while also allowing our curiosity as visitors to explore…

Is it way too naive to seek that balance now just when moving to a brand new city?

I’ll be honest.
I’m struggling.
Not all day. Not even every day. And in no heroic measure in any way. At all.
I’m supported and loved and respected. Enough for right now, anyway …
But I’m not winning all the time. And I’m learning, sometimes only after I’ve done something regrettable, or made a disappointing judgement, or just plain gotten too stuck in my own head for too long, that I need to be ok with cutting myself some breaks, with picking one thing over everything, with saying yes to help and no to more.

I wrote this to a friend going through some big changes today, and it brought me some peace, reflecting on things from this perspective…

‘Sadly we all know that nothing is certain in life… But what does need to feel as certain as it can is that you will each have each other’s backs in good and bad. And adventures aren’t easy. Sure, there’s the excitement and the inspiring parts. But it is also scary and tiring at times. And knowing that regardless of good or scary, you will be there with each other is what I think matters most …

And the Kids are awesome; they fill me up.’

These little ones this week, growing and learning and crying and screaming…but filling me up each day.

E awake at 10 PM one night to take a poo. And N with her hand on my leg as I was the Mystery Reader in her kindergarten class last week.

Now off to order the Creme de la Mer that exactly everyone here ( ok, maybe 5 New Yorkers in 3 days) uses.
Building the old self-esteem one awkward day at a time.

All 6.3 inches of it.  We sure did get made fun of by our Canuck friends back in Calgary… and rightly so.

The Mayorally-imposed snow day was welcomed by the kids though!

Stay warm!

-Brett

Shit is getting real. Or so Mayor De Blasio tells us.

Sunday afternoon we start to get ‘warning’ texts from our East Coast family and friends asking is we are ok for the impending storm. It was a balmy 8 degrees (celcius) outside, the sun was shining, and even if snow was on its way, it was hardly something that merited any kind of reaction from us.

We snickered, rolled our eyes, and carried on with lovely Sunday afternoons in the Village and Soho, casually strolling, sipping, munching, and takin’ in our happy Sunday NYC afternoons.

And then De Blasio went and pooped on our parade. Or just did his job, I guess.  It was his urging of NYC residents to ‘take this storm seriously’  that caught our unwaveringly law-abiding, rule-following, stay-in-line selves to take pause. So wait, this actually is something, beyond normal CNN-FoxNews-Americana-default-hysteria for the sake of hours of news filler? This storm might actually be legit? And might actually temporarily cripple this city? (not to mention the 50+ million other residents neighbouring NYC.)

Thinking it would be really unfortunate if the dummies from Canada were the ones ill-prepared for a snowstorm, regardless of how severe it promised to be, we did the necessary ‘prepping’, filling all water bottles, stocking up on groceries, charging devices, and ensuring candles, lighters, and blankets were all easily accessible. And then we went to bed, anticipating little more than a dusting this morning, and expecting a business-as-usual day.

Uuuurrrch. It wasn’t until early afternoon, but the warning signals intensified- first, after-school programs cancelled, then warning that pre-school had secured hotels to keep staff in town for emergency-coverage only tomorrow, then public schools being cancelled, and then a final urging from the Mayor to ‘get home and stay home’ tomorrow.

I usually don’t get to do kid pick-up as I work later at the office, but given the schedule and juggling required with cancelled after-school, I got to pick Nora up today. I actually participated in parental bantering (normally something I too easily shy away from), hearing stories about Sandy, and listening to peoples’ predictions about how this storm would compare. And welcoming an invite to meet at the field behind our house at 1pm for a snow date tomorrow to give working parents and kids a break from being holed up in our apartments for the day tomorrow.

While the snow has been steady since early afternoon, and I’ve seen four, FOUR graders scrape our piddly little (inconsequential, might I point out) street THREE times since 6 pm tonight, it doesn’t yet seem to be an overwhelmingly crippling scenario.

But then I remember how much different it must be to receive 2 feet of snow in a city like this, versus a city/town in Canada, where infrastructure just accommodates for such a change. Roads, machines, sanding, and disposal plans are second-nature. In addition, in other places a family with 2 small children might have a car, to begin with. Getting your kid to and from school might be more hazardous via vehicle, but you don’t need to worry as much about whether or not your poor little kid can actually WALK the route in the wind, the cold, the snow…Sure, snow in Calgary, for example, is just something you deal with. But introducing an exposed little kid to this without the comfort of a car, and reliant on a <non-running> subway, or a <completely unavailable> taxi as an alternative to walking takes on a whole new meaning.

We’ve been getting a lot of teasing today from our <smug> Canadian country-men, scoffing at our reaction, at our apparent new softness. And sure,  relatively,  these conditions don’t yet seem as extreme as what we’ve dealt with in the northern deep-freeze.  <firstly- it only makes me realize how shitty those conditions really can be, and makes me think that while I might find comfort in romanticizing the ‘strength’ and ‘resilience’ that a climate like this teaches us, it ultimately just makes us cold and grumpy. or makes me that way, anyway.>  But the means to respond to this weather is different, and that’s what makes this a bit difficult.

I’m kind of excited, to be honest. This is ‘the’ news right now! And we’re in it!

And really I do hope that nothing really bad happens to any communities.

And while we watch it unfold, we’ll monitor our water, ensure devices stay charged, and keep tabs on food supplies. And ration the beer.

Wrapping up our first long weekend of 2015.
It’s remarkable what one extra day on a weekend can do for the normal cycles of a unit…
Friday night feels like a huge accomplishment on most weeks, especially now in our lives here where a good amount of energy still is going into the mechanics of getting everyone where they need to be, shifting modes from readying, to commuting, to working, to familying, and to absorbing our special surroundings.
It’s such a fine balance between making-the-most, and allowing for rest and recovery, and it is still ( maybe it always will be) something that I think I struggle to be conscious of.
Having even just one extra day to play with adds such a welcomed level of flow, of space, of balance. Friday night felt a bit less like of an exhausted exhale, and a bit more like a refreshing inhale, knowing that we’d have a bit more give to our unwinding time.
We had no plans, and the weekend unfolded into a relaxed, spontaneous, and comfortable few days.
Not to mention the very important reason for this weekend’s extension.
Brett and I watched Selma. And we learned a lot. And will be doing more reading and reflecting. Of course.
And we’ve reflected in turn on how this translates to the lives of little ones… It’s the balance again between celebrating in the fact that our kids in 2015 haven’t been exposed to , nor do they comprehend the struggles that Martin Luther King Jr. represents, and in also ensuring that in an age-appropriate way, they understand what his spirit, his sacrifices, his courage ask of us to carry on.
Yowsas.

In much trivial news, I’ve realized that I think I need to do some research for my own camera. I’m thrilled with our Lumix, and either I just need to pack less kid sh#* into my day-pack ( 48 less stuffies/fruit pouches/goldfish/cars/water bottles) in order to accommodate a camera around my neck, or I need to research an option light-enough to grab pics while shuffling strollers and corralling my whirling-dervish of a 5 year old on ‘active’ nyc streets. The photo content here is too good not to have something more accessible than my iPhone.
Until then, this’ll suffice.

Clearly I am accustomed to snowy and cold weather. But I’m entirely unprepared to deal with actually needing to get anywhere ( or my kids) in this weather, by foot. SUVs and all-wheel drive have been the default for needing to be anywhere up until now.

We woke to what looked like smoke filling the street. It was blowing snow. Not smoke.
And of course when I had calls starting the minute I arrived at work, so shifting schedules wasn’t really an option.

I hurriedly bundled the boy into a snowsuit, although the intention had been to toss us both into a taxi for the $5 ride to his preschool.
No taxis. And the one that did approach was scooped by a more assertive ( desperate) parent with 3 screaming kids in tow- he wins.
So- already nearing being late, I picked up all 40 pounds of the boy, and started walking.
We live in a pretty windy corner of the city, so that added an extra lovely dimension. ( by this point I’m already resigning myself to that fact that the Mexican food ( and drinks) I was going to insist we hold off on and instead cook in tonight, will happen . I’m spent. And it’s 8:15.)

We arrive at preschool eventually, and I swiftly carry on the way, getting sprayed by both a snow blower guy (zero attempt to even slightly shift the trajectory of his spray) and a salt sprinkler guy.

And then I see an equally resigned dad, crouched over his wailing kid, face-down in the snow, trying to muster his parental patience asking his son ‘ what hurts? What HURTS? WHAT HURTS?’
He eventually lifts the stay-puffed-marshmallow-man- scarecrow kid up, dusts him off, and they carry on their snowy, manual way, two glistening beads of snot decorating the sad little kid’s face.

I’m spent- and it’s not even 9 am!!

And my freshly-styled hair really should just have a toque on for the remainder of the day.

Happy Friday!
Here’s two random street shots along the way.