mommy-dating….

UGH! I must start by saying, I had a "great and wonderful" once in my life, so I can't say I haven't been blessed.  However since our split (aka the move) it's just been hard to get back out there and date again.  I speak to my x-mbf on the phone at least twice a week - mostly to bitch and complain about all things New York but also to find out what she's been up to.  I would be lying if I told you it didn't make me just a little happy to hear she is also not ready to get "out there" and meet someone new.  Dating is hard enough, mommy-dating when you throw in a third (or in truth a fourth, fifth and sometimes sixth) party makes it nearly impossible.  

I will admit I acted a bit naive to the whole situation.  It was just so easy last time, I thought for sure it would be the same.  Actually, I knew it wouldn't be as easy but I had NO idea it would be this hard.  My x-mbf reminds me it's a different time in our lives and she is right.  Oh, how I miss the days of sitting around with a circle of moms in some one's living room sipping wine and nursing (YES you read that correctly and judge me all you want). It was simply talk of sleep schedules and pumping, when to start solids and when to let them "cry it out." It was an easy way to form a friendship and sure the conversations had their moments of being "just baby" but because you had the time to waste and the babies who simply fussed for two reasons, you could really break it down.  All of us moms (nine in total) made our rounds to each other's house week after week after week.  The host supplied lunch and a sufficient amount of wine which kept the conversation from never going stale.  We were new moms, and while we all loved and adored our friends pre-baby - we had all just started a new chapter in our lives and we knew the nine women in that living room could relate best.  We loved to talk about how our husbands had just started to seem so lazy and how we really did have super human strength when it came to carrying a stroller up six flights of stairs with baby in tow.  We laughed at how we thought we needed eight hours of sleep every night to get through the day….funny, you really only need four.  Everything was new back then and we were dating without really….dating.  If anything, it was more like speed dating or four minute dating.  You had nine solid girls to choose from and each one more interesting than the next.  AND if worse came to worse you could simply go back to the main topic at hand….why does my child not sleep through the night?! 

Of course as the kids got older the big group changed and us moms branched off to smaller groups.  Some moms moved, others went back to work, some just weren't into the day to day hanging and others just preferred to do things on their own.  In the end we ended up with a solid four of us who hung out every single day - obnoxious as it might have been to others, we loved every second of it.  We vacationed together, had lunches together and of course, yoga'd together.  We were known as the momterouge at the gym and where there was one of us, there was always the question, where are the other three? It was heaven wrapped up in watching our new and only babies discover each other and eventually form friendships and bonds they still have now.  (I know they are only TWO and who still has friends from when they were toddler BUT let me live in the moment!) 

Of course, like every perfect thing in this world - it had to end. What comes up, must come down and eventually two of the four moved and then so did I.  Before I left though and when it was only down to the last two - my x-mbf (the remaining ONE) and I became inseparable.  Our friends became friends, our husbands became friends and our kids went to the same school, we were both class parents, we…..OH you get the point. And the truth is we didn't force our kids to be friends, they love each other, act more like sisters than best friends but when they are apart, Finley can't wait to see….Stella. So it's Stella's mom who I call now and bitch to. It's Stella's mom who I am happy has also not moved on. And it's Stella's mom who told me "maybe, you're just not ready to get out there." How funny this sounds, right? Well, it is. We call our break-up a divorce, however I don't walk around like a bitter divorcee, although I am bitter.  I walk around like a widow and please just go along with the dramatic here.  If I had chosen the divorce or if the divorce had chosen me, then yes, bitter I would be.  But this was stripped from me, taken from me and not with a moment's notice but a slow and painful death. We knew for months this was coming, we prepared, discussed, drank and eventually cried about the outcome.  There was no turning back and we were going to have to leave each other and go and meet new moms. Only one…that's all I really need. See when you have it good…you know what you're missing.

So here I am, a new UES mom out to fight the good fight on the playgrounds that surround me.  I have signed up for the classes - always fun meeting new nannies :-/ and I have tried to simply be available (mistake #7). I would hate to throw crazy generalizations out there about the UES moms that I have met as I'm sure moms across the city are like this (I so don't believe what I just wrote) but for sake of not offending everyone (sure) I'll just say NYC moms are tough but like my x-mbf reminds me (and she is always right) - they had lives before you moved here - so you have to find a way to fit into their lives, they don't need to find a way to fit into yours.  Most moms who have a toddler also have a new little one or are expecting a new little one and so they are established.  They too sat around nursing circles when their firstborns were just a few months old, forming friendships they knew would fill their 9-5pm work week.  So, I'm the new kid on the block and with my two kids by my side, I must find a way in….I have to MOM-DATE! Let's meet for coffee, sure I'll come to your place, I would love it if your nanny called my nanny,  Mahjong, UMM love that game (huh)? And so it begins and yes, I might not be ready but I'm trying.  I definitely may have started too soon, hence my many failed attempts but with each passing day I find myself being less  - the awkward guy in the prime real estate at the bar sipping a never-ending cocktail during happy hour by himself -  and more the cute girl who just so happens to be thirsty and wanting a drink, and oh, look it's just around quitting time, so why not. 

I would be remiss in not mentioning that I have actually met a few wonderful moms out there (love my weekend DT mom and my funny UWS mom). And while we are, of course, just "getting to know each other right now" there is definitely some serious potential. And while I can count these wonderful moms on one hand (needing only my index and middle…and maybe my ring finger) they are out there. I love the UWS mom who at our first mom-date thought a dance party would be a cute idea and while most moms would throw on some top 40, I watched Finley and her adorable son rock out to "I'm in the house….I'm in the mother-f*%^$# house!"  I loved that date and lucky for me even after our last date, a HUGE disaster, she's willing to see me again. See here's the problem - moms can love each other and get along great but there's the other part of the equation….the kids. I have a spitfire for a daughter so while I'm trying to get to know the mom "hi, Oh yes I LOVE sushi…Oh, what is she doing? Oh God I'm sorry….strange, she never hits like this…" It makes this whole dating thing that much harder. On this particular disastrous mom date (aka playdate) Finley decided it would be cute to take sips of her water, squat her legs and pretend to pee. I still have no idea where or WHO she learned this from or if she really just put it together herself (always knew she was a genius ;-)...and while I tried to ignore it in hopes it would go away and at my failed attempt to take the water away (major temper tantrum), I looked over and saw that it was no longer water coming out of her mouth and she was actually squatting and peeing right through her clothes and underwear right on the sidewalk.  "So, do you want to get together next week or shall I just, um call you?" 

I have two UES moms (so as to not completely make them all out to be a-holes) who I really like.  More for the sheer reason that one of them,  I only get together with sans children and the other one is just, do I dare say….normal? We met, of course, in Frankie's class. Shocker.  It's amazing how well you can get to know a mom when you have a non-speaking, roll around, smiling kid to look after.  Lucky for me she also has a toddler and so in the words of eharmony, it's a perfect match.  We are still in the beginning stages of this new dating thing and while we have only gotten together a few times, I'm just happy, I haven't gotten the book He's just not that into you sent to me in the mail. 

To be honest, I haven't given up all hope - I probably did come out of the gate a little too fast and a little too aggressive. So I'm laying back and seeing what happens. I am not totally tainted…yet and I haven't taken myself off of all the dating websites but let's just say I don't obsessively check my inbox 34x a day.  I coast the playgrounds, I sit back and observe at the sandbox and I smile and say just a few words at Fin's ballet class.  I'm learning less is more and I'm starting to realize not everyone is into the neurotic, overly wordy, dramatic new mom on the UES. 

MISS YOU MY X-MBF 

xoxo

The Jesus year….

I have mentioned it in one of my blogs, and now that the birthday has come and gone, I feel it's time I talked about the Jesus year. For those who don't know what I'm talking about and haven't been able to put it together, let me give you a quick explanation.  Thirty-three is the year Jesus was crucified on the cross and so many believe this particular year is extremely significant in our own lives.  We are to find ourselves or learn something new. Something drastic happens or something interesting makes you change your perspective on life.  Whatever it is - the Jesus year will change you and not just for a moment, forever.

I didn't have a damn clue what the Jesus year was until my brother told me about when he was visiting this past January.  It was a freezing cold day and we had just moved into our new apartment in New York and Tom who had already had his first surgery was due for a doctor visit later in the week to find out if a second surgery or chemo was necessary. Tension was everywhere in the house and I had finally found a moment to sit down at the dining room table which looked more like a table you see in the show Hoarders than a table you would ever serve a turkey on for Thanksgiving but somehow I had managed to find just enough room for my laptop. My brother had also carved out a little spot for himself and was typing away when he looked up at me.  "Chiara, how old are you?" " I'm 33, why?" He nodded his head up and down and then said "oh boy, Key…you're in it." I laughed, no shit was I in it Joel...but I answered a little curious, "In what?!" "The Jesus year." "The Jesus year, Joel?" And then he went on to explain and it all made perfect sense. Listen I don't preach this stuff I just thought it was pretty freaking interesting and YES if there is ever a year that challenged me, made me think, made me look outwards and upwards and inwards and left and right and up and down, it was definitely this year.

My Jesus year was a combination of the good, the bad and the ugly.  It started in Boston and it ended in New York.  Tom was interviewing back when I turned 33 and it was all hush, hush and given I was newly pregnant, I was blissfully happy and blissfully ignorant to think life would ever change.  Boston was home and I wanted to keep it that way. Later realizing it was those exact feelings that would challenge the very core of our marriage. Looking back I now know Tom and I spent the majority of my Jesus year on different pages.  Tom wanted nothing more than to move out of Boston and get a new job in New York.  I wanted nothing more than to have a new baby and stay in Boston… can you say different pages?!

There was plenty of fights and plenty of slamming, of plenty of doors.  There were more sober nights than drunk nights (thank you Francesca) and less parties and more dinners.  There was more one on one with friends and there were longer hugs. I'm still wondering why I thought it was a good idea to have a going away party and a 2nd birthday party on the same day and at nine months pregnant? I'm also still wondering how I pulled both of them off and stayed up until 4am partying and do I dare mention, all with Louboutins on the very swelled feet ;-)

My Jesus year brought amazing things in the world of motherhood. For the first time, being a mom to a toddler and not a baby and shaping that toddler into a little girl.  Listening to Finley's ever growing vocabulary and knowing I had a part in it and marveling at this amazing child while I grew another inside of me.  I will try to remember the "I love you's" and try to forget the "get away from me's" although I'm not dumb….I know I haven't heard the last of the latter.  I was challenged with single motherhood while Tom spent the last months of my pregnancy and the first few months of Frankie's life in New York and we all spent the work week without him. I faced the new challenges of being a mom of two and I grew a whole new respect for women who do it alone. In my Jesus year I started to realize, I had become my mother.

I got pleasant surprises, "It's a GIRL!" and not so pleasant surprises "Honey, I got the JOB!" The first half of my Jesus year was a challenge but of course nothing could prepare for the 2nd half.  I laugh thinking that even Frankie's birth story was something out of the ordinary. No birth story is what you expect but certainly if someone had told me Frankie was going to come into this world in four minutes and two pushes, and I would be relived I didn't end up giving birth to her in my Range Rover, I wouldn't have believed them.  If someone said Tom wouldn't be there to see it happen, I would have laughed in their face. A drive-by delivery was just the beginning to the craziest fall and winter I have ever experienced.

I was met with challenges I had never dealt with before and had no idea trying to get a child into a New York private nursery school while living in Boston and with a newborn would literally take over my life.  I never knew completing these nursery school applications, interviews, tours, play-dates while nursing a baby and traveling back and forth to NYC while Tom lives in California, would make me fall to my knees on a sidewalk on the UES in complete tears (and embarrassingly so I called my mom to come pick me up). The ironic part is, as bad as all that was to handle….I believe the lesson of learning life's REAL challenges was just about to be handed to me and I had no idea. 

I was moving to NYC and I just had to deal. It was Christmas time and I was determined to make it memorable, it being the last in Boston but two days before the end of 2010, the C card was dropped. And just when I thought it couldn't get any crazier and just when I thought Tom and I couldn't get any further apart, our lives changed forever.  How we found the C is a story that is definitely not for the blogs and more for the close friends who get me drunk enough to retell but for those who don't know the story and are reading this - use your imagination ;). When we sat up that night wondering what it could be and I saw the look of panic in Tom's eyes, I really thought he was crazy.  Cancer was the absolute last thing from my mind. But just four days before we were to pack up our apartment and I was to leave my entire support system and HOME, Tom was diagnosed with stage 2 testicular cancer…..and here we go again.  

My Jesus year brought me closer to some, and further from others. I was able to reconnect with friends who I hadn't seen or heard from in years and disconnect from friends who at the end I had come to the conclusion they brought zero to the table.  I faced new challenges and boy did I cry (although it might of been the pregnancy and post baby blues). I thank those friends who were there for me and called me and stuck by me through all the craziness and continue to still find time to call and check-in now.  You have all taught me a great lesson in friendship.

After recalling the last year, I get a lot of people asking me "how did you keep it together?" The answer is simple "I had no reason not to." I had a family who loved me, friends who I could call in an instant, two precious girls who make every day seem like Christmas morning and so not keeping it together wasn't an option. I don't ever want to do my Jesus year over again but I'm glad I went through it.  The good - Francesca being born.  The bad - leaving Boston. The ugly - cancer.  In the end - what won't kill you, will only make you stronger. I'm just happy every thing is settled down….for now.

Fat free...cancer free!

Its been weeks since my last post and I'm so glad I waited because of last week Tom is now cancer free! Meeting with the oncologist last week we heard the great news and just like that life could begin to go back to normal. Now Tom is thrown back into the same pool we are all in except of course he will have to be monitored and watched throughout the months and years to come.  Next week Tom heads back to work and my life in New York can begin.  Everyone keeps asking me if I love being back, if I have been able to connect with old friends, traveled with the kids to museums or enjoyed what New York has to offer.  The truth is, I haven't done anything - my life has been on hold and for obvious reasons. Having Tom home and just getting adjusted has taken longer than any of us expected.  Tom wondered if I was sad he was headed back to work on Monday and I said it was bittersweet. I loved having him around but we never had the relationship where we spent enormous amounts of time together so this was certainly a special little treat even under the circumstances but something both of us struggled with from time to time. Please don't keep the toilet seat up, please take off your shoes, please don't have every single television on even when you're not in the room!   

The moment we met, we lived in separate cities and then when I moved to Boston we both had demanding jobs, Tom's during the week, mine on the weekends.  We were ships passing through the night, we reminded each other there was still love by texting. We didn't call each other or bother to email - we texted when we had time and when we went on vacations we were reminded of why we were together.  So for the first time in five years we have spent almost every single day together since December 23rd - so when he asks if I am sad he's going back to work, I say bittersweet.  We were able to put our new apartment together and Tom was able to see Finley in her classes, dance in ballet and kick soccer balls.  Tom was able to play and laugh and nap with Frankie.  He was finally able to connect with his new baby girl after missing the first few months.  

I tried not to take any of it for granted knowing it would end and I am happy he's going back to work so I can once again go back to the real normal I'm used to, even if it means calling him on the phone every single afternoon asking me the same nagging question - "when are you coming home?" I want life to be normal, well I want it to be MY normal. I have certainly enjoyed our time together and it has certainly helped ease my transition from Boston to NYC but at the end of the day this wasn't our normal and knowing he was home meant he wasn't 100% better.  I am sure in the weeks to come I will be typing the exact opposite of this post and complaining about how Tom is never around and how I'm sick of playing the single parent but Tom is cancer free what's better than that?! 

I think Tom is eager to get back, he has never longed to be the stay at home dad and I am not even sure he's ever thought of himself as the dad who coached his kids to the town championships.  He loves to work and he's good at it! I will never forget when we first met he told me and with no apologies that he will never be or want to be the 9-5 guy.  I know he loves being home and spending time with his "girls" but he misses his normal and I am sure all of this estrogen is really starting to get to him ;-) 

Next week I will complain about the fat free part of my blog....something I just can't get into right now but has been the bane of my existence and Tom's.  He is cancer free but he is also fat free and my kitchen has turned into 1998 again - bring on the Oleans....! 

Recovery is a b....

I still can't believe it's been over a week since I last posted. The days in between have flown by and if it wasn't for my nanny showing up in all red, I would have forgotten all together it was Valentine's Day. First to anyone who is reading this, thank you, thank you, thank you! The support I received after posting my blog about Tom's cancer was unimaginable. I never thought it would reach so many of you and your gifts, emails, messages, texts, phone calls and letters will forever be a reminder of the love and support we are so lucky to have.  I wish I could personally thank each one of you for reaching out to me but please know hearing from you brought a huge (and much needed) smile to my face. I'm happy to report Tom is home from the hospital and on the road to recovery. Thanks to Tom's sheer will and determination he was up and moving on the same day of his surgery and while there were a few minor setbacks in the hospital he was out of the hospital in a week! I couldn't believe the strength he showed through those first few days post surgery and I'm still in awe of him as we have this very windy road ahead.  

I picked him up from the hospital last Wednesday night with the same nervousness I dropped him off with. I had no idea what lay ahead and I have never been very good at playing nurse. I blame my mother for this lack of bedside manner - she was definitely in the school of "if you REALLY are sick than you can stay in bed all day, no TV!" - this harsh sentence led me to go to school more times than stay home but being in school sick wasn't much fun either. Before leaving the hospital we met with all the appropriate people and got way too many instructions, too many dietary restrictions and way too many unknowns. We met with the doctors, we met with the nutritionists and then the nurses...and then we were off. Tom kept pulling me aside to calm me down but for some reason my nerves, lack of sleep and pure adrenalin had taken over my body and I was acting more like hired help than a wife who was concerned and scared.  If someone had seen me they would have thought I was in an episode of The Amazing Race and we had just received our next task.  I packed Tom up in five minutes flat, got the cart for his belongings and rushed him out the door. Looking back now, I realize he also had that same look of sheer panic on his face because he also had no idea what he was coming home to and knowing the security of 24 hour care was now gone and nurse Ratched was taking over certainly didn't help!  

The first night home was hard, everyone treaded lightly and I was grateful the girls were already in bed. While I was happy he was home, the reality of the situation was settling in and I couldn't help but cry. Every day has gotten easier and we have definitely all adjusted to our new home life.  I know Finley is in her glory with Tom around 24/7 and I only wish I could explain to her that this too won't last. For now I will allow her to live in the moment and in truth, I'm jealous of it.  I keep telling everyone day by day...because if I think about next week or next month it would be too much.  I am trying to live in the moment and really, take care of the moment.  I'm a mom of three now and should just be grateful at least one of them is potty trained. The nights are the toughest, Frankie down at 7pm, Finley down at 7:30pm, dinner made for Tom (strict diet of less than 5% fat, UGH?) and the whole house is in bed at 10:30pm and then begins the rounds.  Every three hours Tom needs his pain medicine and every four hours Frankie likes to get up just to remind me she's lost her pacifier! Rise and shine begins around 6am when Frankie girl needs to be fed and the moment she's settling down back to sleep, Finley is screaming from her room "Mommy OPEN the DOOR!" - and groundhog day continues. 

I know when this is all over and we look back at this time it will be a mere blimp on the map of signifiant moments in our lives, and I know I will eventually look back at this time and be grateful. Grateful for the people I was able to reconnect with and the amount of time we have been able to have Tom at home.  I know in the blink of an eye and in the space of a moment he will be back in his suit and walking out the door before 8am only to return way after the kids and I have gone to bed. I will be grateful that at the ripe old age of 33 (the Jesus year) I am able to truly understand the words "in sickness and in health" and was faced to challenge my own demons around the word commitment. I'm grateful for my friends and family who have shown me the true meanings of being both a friend and part of a family. My mom said to me last week while we were sitting in Tom's hospital room waiting for him to finish his rounds with Peter, you still needed to learn something Chiara, God throws things are way so we can learn from them. She was right...but in all honesty, I'm still learning. 

Tom is going to be great. In fact, he's going to be better than great.  He's up and moving, he's eating and do I dare say, he's pooping?! We meet with the Dr's this week to find out the real results and the next steps but we both know now with a positive attitude and positive vibes being sent our way, we are going to be just fine. 

Happy Valentine's Day! 

C is cancer and it's scary enough for me......

Before he strolled into the room, I said "Tom? Is it OK if I blog about today..." his response "of course" - funny when you don't have a therapist to pay or a pill to pop what really will help you get through the tough times. I have never blogged before a few weeks ago and always made fun of it but now it's my hour at the therapy office. I've  avoided the topic for as long as I can and in the mix of everything going on, I can ignore it no longer (is that proper English). I should already put warning out there that this blog will lack any sort of formality. It will be somber and probably the last thing anyone needs to read on a day like today (if you live on the east coast). No need to give background on what I'm blogging about...the subject lines says enough.  The day started at 3am - time to feed Frankie, time to print the Will, time to get ready to go to the hospital.  We moved slowly, methodically,  as we got ready to head out in the ice storm for Tom's surgery. His second one in two months...I remarked we were becoming old pros but we both are scared of the same thing....this might not be his last. We spoke only a few times saying the same thing - "you OK?" "yeah, you?" We cried. We laughed. We sat in silence on our way down the road. In the darkness of the morning we were sluggish and worried - both of us for different things.  I can't speak for him but I imagine it was the fact that he was going to have his chest cut open, his organs removed and his lymph nodes scraped out. I imagine he was scared about the recovery, two weeks in the hospital which sounds like an eternity. I am worried because I am a mom and we are raising two beautiful little girls.  They are still babies in the big book of life and they only know the world we allow them to see. When Tom told us we were moving to NYC I thought OK fine...not happy but we will deal. When Tom told me it was in August, I nearly fainted...UMM I'm due in OCTOBER!! So I stayed in Boston and we lived two very different lives. When I delivered Frankie, he missed it, when I had labor pains, he wasn't there. So maybe staying in Boston wasn't such a great idea but it's done. Then came November new baby, and trips back and forth to NYC for Fin's nursery schools, all the while searching for apartments and nursing Frankie who was only a few weeks old while Tom was in California....new school for Finley, new job for Tom, new baby for me.  White girl problems...yes I know - minuscule to so many other things out there but to me it was exhausting.  I stopped asking how people were doing and started just chewing there ear off about all things me. "Who cares" now that I look back on it! I wish one of my many amazing friends just said "we get it Chiara but get over it!" See all the moving around, the sleepless nights, the raising of a very cranky two year old pales in comparison to the hear and now.  When Tom dropped the C bomb on me, my world froze. I went through the stages, doesn't everybody? Anger, denial, acceptance....I've never looked them up but those were the stages I went through. Angry because after so many months of being apart and so many months of doing EVERYTHING I was going to move to NYC and maybe get some time for myself....and then you go and get CANCER?! I know, sounds nuts, right? Mean? Insincere? You're right but it's how I felt.  Then denial. Life still needs to go on, I still have a baby to nurse, and a two year who won't poop. I have a new apartment to turn into a home and new mom friends to make....can't be bothered with your cancer now. Then acceptance and with that word came a whole host of emotions. He has cancer and the rode is going to be long. Death isn't our worry - with a 97% survival rate how could it be? So we slip on the yellow bands again. Yup, those same yellow bands I thought were so cool and only wore because everyone else did is now my reality. I think about my children first - to Finley he walks on water and now she will see him barely walking at all.  To Frankie she barely knows his scent, his touch and how much longer until she gets the father Finley had at this age? This won't be my last post about Tom's cancer...I feel better already and I have barely skimmed the surface. He's strong and he will be OK it's just that it's the C word and it's scary enough for me.

Justin....oh Justin....

So I have to dedicate this one to my amazing cousin/brother Justin! Everyone is always so confused by his title because technically, and well I guess, by blood he's my 1st cousin but just like you had aunts and uncles that you later found out were just your parent's really close friends, my cousin is practically my brother. Since we were little we have been inseparable. We spent most of our childhood hanging around together every chance we got. Our first few years of life were easy. We both lived in the same town and our parents spent most weekends together. Once he moved away to Texas and then California our time was limited to Christmas break and a month or so in the summer time. If you knew me when I was little then you knew when my cousin came to visit, you shouldn't even bother trying to make plans with me. My time was only dedicated to Justin! We were two peas in a pod, we laughed the same, we looked the same, we did everything the same. Most of my best memories of my childhood are with my cousin. Now, I know some of you are wondering well what about Joel??? Well I have amazing memories with him too but he was 5.5years old than I was.....he was the "big" brother who hung out with us when he wanted. He didn't think spending an entire day filming our grandmother or harassing our uncle was all that fun. He was a teenager and hanging around 7 and 8 year olds can be rather boring. Through the years Justin and I always remained close and even when we were both off to college we always spent the holidays together.  When he decided to go to Columbia I was thrilled because the moment I graduated NU I moved to NYC and I was able to see his last two years of college played out in baseball games and theatre.  
Justin also has a knack for being there for me when I needed it the most. I remember him being a huge presence in my life the summer my mom decided to leave to sail with her boyfriend. It was a rough time for me given it was the first time my mom had left me and wasn't traveling with my dad. Thank God Justin was there and instead of thinking about how lonely our house was, I spent most of it at my uncles.  When I had just moved to NYC from college and didn't have a single friend in the city, I had Justin who always met us out for clubbing or came over on Sunday's to watch Soprano's. On 9/11 it was Justin who traveled to my apartment with Tia to spend the night so I wouldn't be alone.  When Fin was colicky and I was losing my mind because I couldn't understand why she wouldn't stop crying, who came to visit? Yeah you get my drift. And the list goes on and on but it was this last visit that truly made me come to this realization. Everyone (unless you haven't spoken to me in the last few months) knows I wasn't thrilled about the move to NYC - and so it is always the first few weeks which are the most difficult when getting adjusted. Guess who was here? Justin! He made the transition so much easier by just being here. 
Once you are a mom your values and opinions of people change - it becomes a lot more black and white. Love my child, then I love you. Come visit me and spend no time with my children, you suck. I am pretty straight forward. LOVE ME, LOVE MY CHILDREN. Justin not only spent every single moment with Finley (Frankie, of course, is a lot easier to ignore ;-) but spent the nights here so he was the first person she saw when she woke up.  I was able to ease into my new apartment, my new life, my new New York. 
Justin's love for life is contagious and his energy is boundless. He makes you never want to take yourself to seriously and is the only guy I know who can wear neon tank tops and still look good (yes a little gay) but good. When Justin leaves the room, you feel it. He left for Tokyo this past Friday and our entire family fell into a bit of depression. I know Finley keeps asking for him and every time I have to tell her he's gone back to Tokyo, I can't help but get a little choked up. Finley will probably keep asking for him until the last glow stick in her room has lost it's light. The glow sticks were a last night treat - a glow stick party where 100 glow sticks were dropped all over her room and we played club music and danced with the whole family! We love to talk about how crazy our family is...but it's Justin who brings out that crazy side in us. We love to be crazy because Justin wants us to be crazy and he when he leaves we dull down but he continues on. I only wish he lived closer....maybe one day. I could go on and on about my cousin/brother but I'll just leave it at this - you are missed my Jedi-Terminator. Till next visit....I love you! 

Back in NYC.....

Well here's the first of hopefully many of the blogs to document my time back in the big apple. I think I'm still in denial I'm back. Not that I'm totally miserable about it, I do see the silver lining in some of this. I'm close to my ny peeps who I have felt disconnected with since living in Boston - there's the great take out, the cheap mani's and of course the amazing nightlife. I'm not a museum person and have never claimed to be so those "perks" people love to talk about don't interest me (despite my mother's disapproval of this). The truth is, I loved Boston - at first, I hated it. Refused to say I lived there, never embraced the "nation" and certainly took every opportunity to rip the restaurants and nightlife apart. But four years and two kids made me realize I'm a NY girl living a wonderful Boston lifestyle and what the HELL was I complaining about? Maybe I just love to complain or maybe I just always knew in my heart of hearts that there will always be things about NYC I love and when I was in my "roaring" 20's there was no place else to be but now that I had embraced motherhood and all that goes along with it - the packed 6pm restaurant and quiet sidewalks were just fine with me. When I first moved to Boston all I heard was "it's an early to bed town" well all of sudden I was the one crawling into bed at 10pm on a Friday night and I was fine with it. I loved driving to Target, well pretty much driving anywhere and now I bet my car will be wondering where the hell I am as it enjoys it's very overpriced spot. There's so much to write on the subject of Boston vrs NYC and I am sure as I begin to blog tidbits will come out about my love and hate for both cities. But I'm back in NYC and I might as well turn that frown upside down, get out there and meet some new people. Since being here I can openly admit I haven't left my apartment very much. I am sure we can dive down deep into the psychosis of this but for now let's just say I have two kids with two very different schedules and a lot of unpacking, organizing and home "making" to do :) Let's just say that for now.