Moving

Since we live in New York City, I am obligated to say “we’re moving” in the following way: We’re movin’ on up [because we’ll have an elevator], to the east side [then farther north], to a deluxe [well, two bedroom] apartment in the sky [a few floors off the ground]. We finally got a piece of the pie [or at least a little bit bigger piece of the pie for the same price].

We are moving this weekend.

We moved into our current apartment less than a week before Tim and I both started new jobs. I got shingles a month later. A minor case, but still shingles. Shingles. I was barely 31 years old. Even though I felt I felt fine physically and mentally, my body was like hey a little transition time would have been nice. This time around I want to make sure I allow myself a proper mourning period. We’ve lived in our apartment for three years. It’s where, among other things, we dreamed of, conceived, and started raising our baby. It’s Henry’s first home, one he’s begun verbally recognizing a block away.

Our new place is a mile and a half away from our current apartment. Moving a few blocks in New York can put you in a new neighborhood, so a few minutes drive – or in New York City terms, a 30 minute walk – is significant. It’s a new neighborhood, a new daily commute, new smells, new sounds, new neighbors, new pizza delivery places, new playground, new mailperson to leave Dunkin Donuts gift cards for on Valentine’s Day.

When we moved into our current neighborhood, it was in transition [we could afford it]. New local shops, restaurants and bars were just in the beginning phases. When we got off at our subway stop only five or six others got off the train with us. Now many people get off at our stop at various times of day. We are priced out of our neighborhood now, especially if we want two bedrooms. It is a great neighborhood, and many of the new/changed businesses kept and give the neighborhood character. It’s helped balance some of the bland gentrification of stock condos (which we’d admittedly live in if we could afford it because we really like the neighborhood and strive to be proper yuppies).

Our new neighborhood is just outside the border of these growing and changing neighborhoods. From what we can tell so far, there’s more rebuilding than new building in our new neighborhood, and the history and integrity of the area and residents seem to be respected. We’ll see what happens in the next few years – revitalization or gentrification.

For the past two weekends we’ve gone up to the new apartment to clean and paint, introducing Henry to his new room by babygating him in it with his favorite toys while we work. He didn’t love it. We made sure to take turns playing with him, reading with him, and taking him out for walks in his new neighborhood. He also pretty consistently takes two hour naps now, so that helped us all out. I’m looking forward to getting settled again so that Henry can have his weekends back. He did have a lot of fun running around the empty space and opening and closing and sitting in the kitchen cabinets. (Plural! Big enough to fit a sitting toddler!)

Both sets of grandparents are coming in this weekend for the move, so even with all of the activity Henry shouldn’t feel neglected. At all. It may even lessen the blow of having his kitchen cabinets filled.

His bed will be the same. The furniture will be the same. We’re even painting the two bedrooms the color our one bedroom is now. I’d say our main motivation for this was to provide some continuity, but it’s mostly because we had an extra can of it left over from when we painted right before Henry moved in.

The biggest change for Henry will be not sleeping in the same room as us. When he wakes up now, as I’ve mentioned, he can stand up and see us. Will an empty room freak him out? Will I freak out thinking an empty room is freaking him out? Will an empty room freak me out? I’m looking forward to finding out.