A Wing and a Prayer
It’s crunch time. No more vacations, no more parties. No more dinners out or new swimsuits (even though the one I have now is SO tattered that the ass is literally falling out). We have begun our decent into our four year
prison sentence term of dental school and my feet are getting a little chilly. OK, let’s be honest. My feet are goddamn ice bricks and I’ve got twenty claws embedded in the corner of my apartment. There are so many ends to tie up; must sell most of our furniture and the rest of the mountains of toys that we have accumulated since the birth of our children. It’s distinguishing which toys to bring, and actually schlepping them along with us that is the tough part. We have to find a home, preschool, and a pediatrician when we fly out in three weeks for 4 days. I should probably try to find a job that I can work at night… and aside from working the streets, I’m not sure where I’m going to start.
I honestly can’t even begin to wrap my head around this STILL and it’s happening like, in a month. A MONTH. In mommy time that’s like 4 hours. By the time I figure out how to do all of this the moving van will be sitting in my front yard and I’ll be standing there saucer-eyed with one baby on my arm and the other one glued to Sesame Street, and nothing will be done. But in true Jessica fashion, I’m sure I will figure it out last minute after I’ve spent the previous months stressing and doing nothing. Well, nothing except for raising our two small children.
I just don’t know if there is any good way to really prepare to move our lives across the country. I’ve done it once before, but I was seven and deeply scarred from it for many years. Maybe that’s where my fear comes from… though I know that this is a great thing for our family in many ways. My babies are so young that it won’t affect them too much until they are in grade school, developing relationships with peers, teachers etc. This will be great for them, I am thrilled to have the opportunity to raise them amongst so much diversity (as it stands the percentage of Caucasian in our town is %79.9). Also, I don’t remember the last time I was in New York, so right now it seems like this big bad monster that I’m subjecting my family to. A big MEAN monster. Last year, when we thought we were moving THEN, I tried to prepare myself by logging onto Urbanmom.com. BAD IDEA. Seriously, my first post (acronym free as I am not that savvy) was “Hey I’m a new mom and just wondering how you momma’s in New York make it work! Any tips would be much appreciated! Thanks!” I am NOT joking when I tell you that my first 4 responses were profanity laden. “Go back to where you came from B**CH, we don’t want you here!”. I logged off, never to return to that website again. So yeah, I’m a little wary of ol’ New York.
Where we live, everyone says hello to you on the street. They hold the door for you when you have a massive double stroller. They remember your name at the pharmacy, and always offer to carry your groceries out for you. I have it made here. There are trees, and parks, the Pacific Ocean, and new families all over the place. Both of our families are here (for the most part), and we have more friends than we can count. It’s wonderful here, but it’s also a bubble. The police report consists of dogs barking and missing cell phones, and it’s a crime to smoke within ten steps of a business door. Our pediatrician is 7 minutes away and knows most of my family by name. We have a car that we love. Truly, I am looking forward to moving to the big apple, but I am feeling like a fish out of water. And flying out there on a wing and a prayer.