Summer and City


I’m interrupting this regularly not-scheduled November Arctic Blast to bring to you a summer day and a sweet city baby who wanted to share her Starbucks with me.  (It was just water, of course, but 100% sweet).

Our son was 5 when we officially left the city and moved into our first and only suburban home.  On our first night we heard a fox bark and thought someone was being murdered on the trail behind the house.  (What does the fox say?  No one  knows because they SCREAM!)  City sounds felt much more familiar and safe for a long time.

We loved raising a city baby.  There are so many benefits that families overlook.  Elevators are perfect for teaching numbers.  You never know who you might meet at the playground.  Our son has never -EVER – run into the street for a ball.

The firehouse was a couple blocks away and we liked to bring homemade cookies and doughnuts to them on holidays, if only to watch an otherwise chatty two year old go speechless and wide eyed in such close proximity to his heroes and their epic trucks!  We grew vegetables at a community garden and would pull him in the back of a wagon to harvest unreasonably large zucchinis.  We walked the most beautiful park I’ve ever known every single day that it wasn’t raining.  I get to go back to that park this weekend, sometimes our life there seems like a distant dream.

Its the community kids get in the city that I miss most.  Relationships develop each day when you are always on foot.   You miss so many small but cumulative interactions when you back your car in and out of a garage to get to and fro.

Its my second year spending time with this special girl and her family and friends on her birthday.  I see the depth of their community in that short couple of hours in and around her daycare and think fondly of life with my own two year old all those years ago.  And how lucky she is too for all of this.

Friends, don’t hurry out of the city.  Stay as long as you can.

And P.S. – if you are, in fact, being murdered on the trail behind our house please use words to call out for help.  No one here flinches at the occasional scream, not even us. 🦊










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