our new york city, before and after.

last night we went on a walk to see the rainbow lights at lincoln center. 
all of lincoln center is closed and blocked off with the same metal barriers we see all over the city these days, but the buildings, fountain, and columns are lit up for pride month. it was so, so beautiful.
the weather was in the low 70's, but with 87% humidity. we walked home, hot and sticky, and i observed all of the upper west side different than i have before. june 18th. a beautiful, "typical" thursday night. normally, bustling. i haven't walked these streets at night since the start of the year- january maybe? back when it was cold and i walked as fast as i could just to get back inside. now, the streets are dark. ambient light from the closed (and sometimes-still-boarded-up) stores, salons, and offices showed dirty floors, stockless shelves- aside from some easter decor and signage- and tipped over chairs. a few restaurants are open for take-out, with an even more occasional straggler table w/ chairs on the sidewalk-- socially distanced-- even though anyone dining now is technically breaking rules and the restaurants face fines, many don't care. those who are caught are threatened with fines and the loss of their liquor license, but for many it's worth the risk. bars are the only signs of life, with window panels removed so you can order a drink to-go. the stretches without bars are eerily quiet. high rises that are usually speckled with lights now show mostly-dark apartments. those who stayed are clearly much fewer than those who fled.

i thought about the new york city we moved to. the new york city most people imagine. 
this isn't it. 
mike and i walk and talk often about that life- the before- the one that seems like a dream. there are no tourists now. "the rich fled." it's just the "normal people" left here. the days when people came to buy counterfeit bags in chinatown, or to see broadway shows, or take pictures to post on instagram of the a packed times square, or to see the statue of liberty, or ride a carriage around central park (not supportive of that, but i get the allure)...... all those things don't exist right now. most days, the loss and change breaks my heart, but on other days i feel so much love and pride for what's beneath all of those things. the under-workings of a city built on people. the creativity of the quilt shop owner around the corner, where she sits outside to sell pillowcases because she's not allowed to have customers inside. the mta workers who drive the other essential workers around in underground silver worms, or buses above the ground as they try and dodge people walking or riding bikes and scooters in the streets. the doormen who wear masks, but you can see in their eyes when they smile to you as you pass. 

i worry about what will be left. what businesses can survive. i worry that the people who left won't know what the city went through, and just envision her before, and i wonder when we'll be in the after.

*film from some of those cold january days that feel so long ago now.

a pandemic

every day changes, while somehow, not changing at all. i've been wondering how to address this time on here- how to document this season, while also being so overwhelmed with what is happening; i want to try and share the last 6 weeks somehow. the truth is i'm not sure i've ever processed this much information about a single changing topic. 

there is a pandemic. obviously. the world knows because the world is fully impacted. the world will always know, and is bound to know more than i do right now since this is in real time. to date, ELEVEN THOUSAND PEOPLE IN NYC (CITY ALONE) have died. 11,267 to be exact.

it started with word from china months ago about a sickness that was spreading. it seemed far away. 

we went to dc in january, and it wasn't remotely on my mind. 

we went to utah in february, and it was more-so on my mind. i was extra vigilant about clorox-wiping all the airplane surfaces, and sanitizing extra back then. it still seemed like it would stop before it was anything any of us really had to worry about.

rumors started circulating- after all, we live in new york city. if a virus were to consume a place, new york city would be that place. would school be cancelled for the week? 

then there was word about italy. poor italy. 
all of the sudden a wave of sickness hit. a tsunami. it was insane! italy?? how random. we were going to switzerland in a month- good thing we chose to add france to our itinerary instead of lake como like i had wanted back in june when i started planning the logistics of this dream trip. it had a month to resolve itself before we had to really worry.

life went on like normal- but, like, heightened. i went to trader joe's an extra time or two that week as february wrapped up.

it was a sunday when the first case of coronavirus was announced in new york city. march 1st. i read this on west side rag. 

monday i went to trader joe's like usual after dropping off the big kids at school. i waited in line 40 minutes- crazy! i made a couple extra grocery runs that first week of march- just in case. good thing we didn't need pasta or canned goods, because nyc was freaking out (there was none).

that friday we went to a special opening of the edge - i'd taken photos for them and they were opening a few days later- it snowed on the roof that night. i felt really uncomfortable on the subway - we were paranoid to not let the kids touch anything. 

monday, march 9th, mike found out 2 people at his madison office had coronavirus. the weather was supposed to be 70, and a few friends and i texted about doing a west village run after school to enjoy the first really nice day. at the last minute we decided to change it to central park because i was uncomfortable riding the subway at rush hour with the kids. it was such a beautiful afternoon filled with kids and scooters and sunshine and parks and the carousel.

that friday night elle went to her last friend birthday party- they moved it outside to their courtyard because people were starting to worry about people in close spaces. but the mom was a pediatrician, and she promised no one would do anything without sanitizing, so we went with it.

wednesday the 11th, mike & i went to a dashboard confessional concert. the days leading up to it i tried to sell the tickets (i bought them when we were in greece in september)- i'd been SO looking forward to this for months, but was it safe? the morning of we decided to go and just play it by ear- we had a sitter lined up already, and the money for the tickets was already spent. we showed up just before dashboard went on stage, and avoided people (crowds were lower than i expected); we didn't touch anything, and had the best time. the venue was incredibly conscious, and had sanitizer everywhere, and people for the most part were respecting distance (as much as you can, really). as i stood and screamed my heart out, the girl in front of me spent massive amounts of time on her phone- i read her screen. first "trump bans travel to/from europe for 30 days." my heart SANK.  i was shocked.  a few minutes later, "tom hanks tests positive for coronavirus." SERIOUSLY? it seemed like things were literally falling apart in a matter of minutes. on the subway home we held on to each other instead of a pole, and talked about what the hell was happening in the world. 
that was the night i realized nothing would be the same.

the next morning i called and started the process of cancelling our switzerland trip. i waited on hold for hours, and spent the next weeks sobbing to a computer screen as i desperately attempted to get refunds on what felt like a hundred non-refundable booking details.

by that saturday "social distancing" was a thing. we went on a walk - 6 ft. from others - through central park, around the reservoir, past the now-closed met and guggenheim (the city just decided to shut down broadway and all of the museums). it felt weird. new yorkers don't naturally give anyone space.

between saturday & sunday, things went from "distancing" to "stay home."

sunday the 15th was the first day we self-quarantined. that night, schools were closed through 4/20 (the day we were supposed to return following spring break. ALSO, THE 20TH!?!?!? SO FAR AWAY). i started to feel like i was coming down with a cold. mike's chest had been heavy for a couple days, but he thought it was just from work and being stressed. 

st. patrick's day came with very little green decor. we did dye the milk though. 

those days i felt terrible. my body ACHED. i took as much tylenol as i could, and lots of hot showers. i checked my temperature- i didn't feel overly-hot. i didn't develop a cough. i was so lightheaded and sore. the strangest thing was i realized i had no sense of taste or smell- NOTHING. within a few more days i heard that losing your sense of taste and smell was a sign of covid-19. there was no testing being done unless you were incredibly ill. we were never tested, but if i were a betting woman, i would have bet we had covid. i'm grateful it was relatively mild. particularly since the news of just how bad it could be, close to home, was spreading. mike was working from home at this point.

we started to get groceries delivered- it was a tough task. it was expensive. it was hard to get a slot- they were rare. it was hard to find what we needed. there were limits. toilet paper was only in anyone's dreams. cleaning products, too. soon yeast & flour also became luxuries. (clorox is still a luxury - it's gone.)

sweats became the norm. we tried to say "yes" to everything our kids wanted to do, even the super annoying things like making constant forts and eating cookies for breakfast.

the 31st i woke up to the sound of birds through the open windows. in 4 years waking up here, that's never happened.

new york city started clapping every night at 7:00 for those who kept the city running- the essential workers. it became the highlight of quarantine.

5 people in 600 square feet isn't ideal. but it's tolerable. it's fine, overall. the kids are surprisingly ok- better than the adults. 

remote learning and mike working from home has been tough in a single room. and that's putting it mildly.

spring break was cancelled. and then school for the rest of the academic year was cancelled. (and to think the 20th seemed like a lot.)

easter sunday i cried more than normal- thinking of the easter plans i'd made in switzerland. when would we ever be able to travel again??

the hardest part was my own envy. i found myself in those first 5 weeks (where we stayed home other than 4 trips outside between mike & me, total. the kids were inside 100%) jealous of the friends who weren't taking it as seriously as we are, and who are out enjoying central park in the spring. we missed the blossoms. the park becoming fluffy and green again. they brag "the city is so peaceful!" and i want to scream back, "BECAUSE EVERYONE IS INSIDE, STAYING HOME LIKE WE WERE ASKED TO DO!" we stayed inside our tiny space to curb the spread for the healthcare workers. cheering on the sanitation workers, and grocery store stockers, and the mail deliverers. 

after 5 weeks inside, it became mandatory to wear masks outside. 5 weeks from our last saturday out as a family we decided we would start making baby steps to re-emerge into society. our first trip out was traumatic. it was cold that saturday. rainy. the only people we passed looked like they were out of a horror movie- never seeing faces is terribly unnerving. we went to get cupcakes- ordered on the app. we showed up and called the number in the window. a man emerged from the dark (all the lights were off), and unlocked the door. he passed our bag to us via a metal divider, next to a gallon jug of sanitizer, then closed and locked the door promptly, disappearing back into the darkness. we grabbed shake shack on the way home. ordered that through an open store window. it's unnatural. the hardest part of that afternoon was turning a corner and hearing generators- generators for the hospital- double-wide trailers and white tents. morgues. for all the dead. parked in the streets. just right there in the streets. jude sobbed- "i don't want the people to die!"
we got home and the kids announced, "i'm never leaving home again."

home is safe. home is sanity. home is also insanity.

i have so much more i want to share, but for now, this will have to do. 

xx

*photos a couple weeks ago taken in greece via webcam by my incredible photographer friend, kimon. 

the flatiron & nostalgia...

mike's office is right across from the flatiron building. the sight of that neighborhood- the building in particular- always brings a flood of emotions for me. when mike and i visited nyc years ago, we went looking for city bakery hot chocolate & the flatiron building. we looked & looked, and didn't see the building anywhere, even though my phone said we'd arrived. i was SO FRUSTRATED! well, turns out, we were standing at the base of it- we just needed to look up. from our angle, it was tough to get the perspective we assumed we would if we walked up to it from the front (more of that trip here). the nostalgia i have for this little nook in the city is tangible. this area is a really big deal to our little family! being in this spot with harvey is sort of a trippy time warp.

 the prettiest home depot in all of manhattan is here. the flower district. madison square park. gold-capped-rooftops. incredible views. some of the prettiest architecture. so much good food (including the first nyc &pizza location, which is our favorite dc pizza they opened here in the city last year)! jude's favorite lego store is here. and the museum of sex! we've never been, but it is one of our favorite places to walk by because, well, you should SEE THE FACES OF THE PEOPLE INSIDE!!! hiiiilarious. 

as often as i can, harvey & i meet mike here for a lunch date- i try to take advantage while this season of opportunity exists. we never go on dates in the evenings, and half the time we meet, harvey takes a little nap in the carrier, so it's mostly mike & i. the last few weeks, harvey is acting older. bigger. heavier. more curious. wanting to climb out and explore. fling food. you know, be a kid instead of a baby. the day after his 9-month birthday, we met mike at by chloe (one of my favorite restaurants in the city).

the magic of this city still never gets old. the fact that we're living lives here, and hustling to make our not-so-small family succeed (by our own definition, most certainly not the definition of our peers), is a fight that i'm so proud of- not in a prideful sense, but in the sense that my heart swells with gratitude and joy that we can feel so alive and happy to experience as much as we do each day. 

there are moments periodically when i feel like this city sucks. like when it's overly-rainy. or when people swear at me. or make rude comments. (or when i write our rent check.) but sometimes when i'm running home from the gym, dodging people walk as i run down the sidewalks, or when i'm pushing the stroller & walking with the kids as we all gnaw on a baguette and a sweet old man tips his hat and mutters, "now that's how you life your life!", and especially when the sun comes out, and the light hits the buildings just-so, and the breeze blows around fresh air that doesn't smell like dog *&$%, and i take it all in- in those moments (and so many more)- i'm sure there's no place more perfect. it's the city of [our] dreams for sure. 

(mike & jude on a lunch date before harvey was born, also in about this same spot, here.)

our family in one of my favorite spots in all of nyc...

 first, i am happy to report that the lowest depths of sleeplessness meant we only had 1 option- i took harvey to the pediatrician last thursday who confirmed he was decently healthy (still sick, but no infections or overly-concerning issues), and she told me it was time to let him cry. she made me promise i'd dedicate a solid week. saturday as she pushed the elevator button, elle said, "mom, i think the doctor was right. this is good for everyone in the long run. we can do it!!" i'd just laid harvey down for a nap, and mike offered to listen to the screams while elle & i did a little retail therapy via the anthro sale. (it's the best part about being in a marriage- the teamwork. especially like this case when it fairs much more in my favor than his;) we're still very much in the middle of sleep training, but the good news is there has most definitely been a massive improvement. the first night was the worst. of course. there were a few really awful patches in between (no one says what to do when they wake up every 45 minutes screaming- i get what you do the first time you lay them down, but after that?!?!! it's all a guessing game). the last 2 nights have been much more like they were when he was a baby- but better! he's going down with less of a fight (sometimes no fight!), and only waking 2-3 times to eat, then going back to bed and sleeping until 6:30- heaven. HEAVEN! i'm still nervous though. and there won't be any counting chickens before they hatch. but i am so grateful. and i need to share that!

as we speak, he's napping. in his crib. more than that, i rocked him and held him and sang to him, and we had a little moment of pure heaven where he lifted his head, looked into my eyes, and opened his mouth- i kissed his little lips and waggy tongue over and over and over, and he just stared into my soul, then he laid his head back down. his 21 lbs. of warm weight leaned into my chest, and his little fleece-covered butt rested on my forearm. his fuzzy head brushed my cheek, and i kissed the back of it a million times. then a million more. his breathing got heavier and slower. then, as i laid him alllll the way down into the bottom of his mini crib, which is smushed between closet doors and a bunk bed, he looked back at me with his eyes half-open and that sweet little angel smiled at me, and rolled onto his belly before closing his eyes.

and then i nearly collapsed into a puddle of joy. and humility. and the most intense love any human could ever feel.

sam & ryan looney were in town- they're the prettiness behind our travel passport (see sam's photo site here as well), and we met up on a frigid day in dumbo for a photo swap. it was amazing. and the photos literally make my heart sing. sam & ryan are incredible- like, i'm flattered they were even willing to hang with us cause they're super cool. also, sam is a genius with that camera because, as mentioned: COLD. and kids were: COLD. 

but these are exactly what i hoped for: us. with one of my favorite backdrops ever. she captured us in a time, and a season, that has a piece of my soul like no other ever will.

capturing this time means so much to me. so much. i know we just got photos taken, but i'll cherish this bunch forever. 

thanks to sam for making magic happen!

and here's to warmer, healthier january days, and lots of sleep-filled, cozy nights.