the burbs

So now it's fall, and the Boy is in preschool for three hours a day every afternoon. Last year this meant three free hours. This year it means walk him to school with the Baby, take the Baby home for his nap while I make or prep dinner, then have a little Mama time alone until it's time to pick up the Boy. I'm a damn 1950s housewife.

But we're into a routine, and we're home alot more, and making fewer plans, which results in a lot more time for the three of us. And I'm starting to feel a little penned in in this apartment. That second boy is making me long for some more space, a kitchen where I can have them play while I cook, a yard they can go run out in while I sit out there bleakly, trying to wake up with that first coffee.

Scary. My husband, of course, does not want to leave the city. There are a lot of cons for him, I admit. The commute, for one. As it is, he maybe sees the boys for half an hour in the morning, and sometimes half an hour at night. But for the Boys first day of preschool he came home and we all walked him to school as a family, and P worked from home for the rest of the day. He won't get to do any of that, and now that we are successfully nap free, he will not see them at all during the day during the week. Sucky deal for everyone.

And I am the one with the suburbs issues. I spent some very unhappy years there as an adult, and my life didn't truly change until I came back to the city. But I am starting to feel the pull, and I still do think it's best for the kids.

Though maybe not for me.