People Visit Here? Why?

Decidedly, the girls don't like NYC. I feel bad that it hasn't been a very good experience for them so far. We have no friends minus a few acquaintances at church. Thanks to lack of child support, I haven't been able to put them in dance or sports. We are home all day, unless I shoo them out of the house and insist that we go to Prospect Park or ride scooters to the market. 

Our neighborhood is about as un-tourist-y as you can get. It's true, raw Brooklyn. But when we go to Manhattan we see people from every country imaginable, usually walking very slow, getting on the wrong train, and stopping in the middle of the road to take a picture of another building.

 I tried to explain to the girls that some people save up their whole lives to come here. I say, Look at them! They travel from across the world to visit Times Square and the Empire State Building. And they laugh at me, saying, Why would someone do that when they could go to Miami? 

So I say, Someday you will tell someone that you saw a Van Gogh exhibit at the Metropolitan, and they will be impressed and think that you must have lived an exciting life. 

And they say, Wait til I tell that person about Key West. 

We have this conversation regularly. I feel bad that it's been a hard time for them. No, I don't feel bad. I lay awake at night aching and scheming and trying to figure out how to fix this disaster that we've landed. And in the morning I have to conclude that it's unfixable, that we are here because it's the right thing to do, and that we are learning important skills and lessons that will prepare us for next year.

But I still ache that they don't have friends or ballet or swimming. And I understand that it's hard to see the coolness of the Brooklyn Bridge or Grand Army Plaza, especially when your life doesn't feel as peaceful or predictable as it used to. 

So we try to soak up little moments of happy. Leah has a writing class every Tuesday in Times Square. It's run by a Jewish family who offers day time classes for homeschoolers. The program is spectacular and Leah is so, so happy when she goes. Afterwards, we eat a sandwich on the steps at Father Duffy Square, right in front of where the ball drops on New Year's Eve. 

We watch the tourists study maps and laugh at how they take endless selfies with puckered lips and peace signs. We watch the characters beg for tips. Hannah saw the Naked Cowboy and had to point it out to Leah. We saw some bare chested women. We balk at the lingerie ads (I'll save my opinionated thoughts on #plusisequal for another time.) We aren't very innocent anymore. These things don't happen in Utah. 

I hope they look at these pictures in a year or two and feel happy. I hope they remember that we had some great experiences and we tried really hard to eat good food, learn important history and find beauty in strange places. I hope they remembered that we had each other and their loyalty as sisters grew deeper than it was before. That we learned how to block out noises and smells and focused on what was essential. Or that all major world religions have special clothing and expect certain behaviors from their members. 

We don't see dolphins, alligators, ibis, or banana spiders. But we have a new hobby of chasing pigeons and calling all the sparrows "Bob" and finding subway rats. True ROUS's, those things. 

He has teddy bears on his shoes. He walked with a lot of confidence. 

Pregnancy update: The baby is still there. I had an ultrasound on Saturday and the heartbeat is really strong and everything looks ok. I am ridiculously sick and crabby. I eat tater tots, orange juice, green olives, red grapes and pizza. The other day I got an onion garlic bagel with green olive cream cheese. I thought it was divine. My sister sent me Ring O Noodle soup and I devoured all of it within 12 hours. I'm a mess but so far, no miscarriage signs. And a very intense, anxious husband. Heaven help us all.