Sidewalks

For over a decade I lived in a major US city. I moved around to various neighborhoods - some good, mostly not - but made a point to stay within the city limits. I considered myself to be a city girl. I felt that I had made the better choice. "You see," the line went, "urban is great and rural has its merits but the suburbs are trying to have the best of both worlds and ending up with the worst of it all." Fast forward a few years and I live in the suburbs, white picket fence and all. While I love my home there has been a little nagging voice telling me that I settled.

Earlier this week I had a very cranky toddler on my hands. I had tried all my tricks so I decided we would go on an adventure. I took Puddin' downtown to a shopping thoroughfare where we'd have lots of new sights and sounds, not to mention a little bit of the pier. I'd also have a taste of that urban life that I used to love so much. After just a few hours in that world again I've come to the conclusion that there is an almost insurmountable difference between single-gal-in-the-city and stroller-brigade.

The sidewalks in this part of downtown were narrow and uneven. Folks begrudgingly moved out of the way of the stroller but only after giving us dirty looks. Eating lunch in a noisy cafe, we were pariahs. Even with all the noise the normal patrons produced, people cringed and shot condescending looks every time Puddin' made a noise. There were no automatic doors and very few volunteers to hold them open while I maneuvered the stroller through. None of the public spaces were toddler safe so Puddin' was stuck in the stroller almost the whole trip. Our search for a changing table took too long so when we finally returned to the van, dejected, Puddin' had sprung a leak. Where I once felt emboldened by urban life I instead felt beaten down. We returned to our home and routine, much worse for the wear.

The next morning Puddin' and I went for our usual run through the neighborhood. The sidewalks are wide enough for the bulky jogging stroller with room to spare for a passerby. Still, folks out walking their dogs will move over to the grass to make room and wave or give a friendly hello. People working in their yards will call out encouragement - especially when I've got Monkey & Peanut along too. Sometimes a neighbor out for her walk will fall in step and travel with us part of the way. On this particular day I forgot my keys and cell phone. Stan left for work while we were out and dutifully locked up. (It's a good neighborhood but not that good.) One neighbor let Puddin' and I in to use the phone. They offered their house for as long as we needed it and invited us to the breakfast table. Then the neighbor who keeps our spare key got home and gave us a quick tour of the remodel he and his wife are doing while he searched for the key. In less than an hour I had enough uplifting interactions to erase the downers from the day before.

I suppose with practice I could probably adjust to the life of urban mom but I'm grateful I don't have to. I have shed my city girl disguise and have emerged as a happy suburban housewife. Ain't life grand?