Great Intentions

Yes I intended to blog every week but I got busy.  New York is FULL ON!  I don't know how people do the whole moving to New York to write thing. I am too busy to write.

It has been an intense month. The first couple of weeks were pretty awful.  Between the intense heat and the horrible jet lag, nothing felt right. You see, there's the 'perception' of moving to New York and then there is the 'reality' of moving to New York.... and then there is the 'reality of moving to New York WITH A FOUR YEAR OLD'.

As with anything, there is a period of adjustment and a period of transition. We are still in that.  I think it actually takes 18-24 months to settle in anywhere and really immerse oneself in the full experience of living in a new city.  We won't be here that long so it is a case of cramming in all the good bits and trying to skim over the crappy bits.  We were just about coming out into the light at the end of the tunnel after 2 years in Sydney so it is quite challenging to start at Go again.

That said, I absolutely love New York City and I feel very comfortable here.  It is such a melting pot of diversity and cultures.  I don't feel in the slightest bit out of place or foreign.  The people everywhere are exceptionally friendly (except the shop assistants on the Upper East side).  I am pretty sure I will pull out Edina's 'You only work in a shop you know, you can drop the attitude' at some point.

I feel very lucky to be here in what is without question the capitol of the World. Everything happens here - good and bad. Everything you can possible imagine is available - and not only is it available it can be delivered RIGHT NOW.  The theatre, the museums, the art, the shopping - everything here is in a league of its own.  There is something very satisfying about being in the epicentre of everything. There is no FOMO (fear of missing out) in New York City.

I am getting to know the city on foot - the best way.  I walk everywhere.  How in hell Carrie and the girls ponced about in Manolos, I will never know.  I am very happy in my comfy wedges or sneakers because I don't want to limit the experience by having sore feet! I've grown a little bit more sensible in my mid 30s! Sorry to disappoint!  I also don't want to ruin the experience by gaining 20kgs and feeling horrible about myself - so the walking counteracts the EATING.

Oh the food... oh my.  Thankfully, everything has the calorie count written clearly next to it and that kills the mood pretty quickly!

So, a quick rundown of my favourite things so far:

Favourite bar: Press Lounge Rooftop Bar at Ink48
Favourite restaurant: Balthazar (Barry McCurdie you were right)
Favourite food item: French Onion Soup at Balthazar
Favourite Deli: 2nd Avenue Deli in Midtown East
Favourite Cheap Eat: Burger Joint at Parker Meridien
Favourite Department store: Bloomingdales
Favourite Shop:  J Crew and Banana Republic
Favourite Walk: Around Central Park
Favourite Extravagance: Wholefoods at Time Warner

More soon....
XOXO

The Agony and the Ecstasy

Week 1 is coming to an end and I am tired.  It is hard moving - even when it's a short stint. It is hard even when you move somewhere amazing.  I understand the envy and the lack of sympathy! I would be mad as hell and green with envy if it were someone else doing this and I was watching on.  I am not complaining - I WANT to be here - nonetheless this week has been hard.

The thing is, that I am a worker bee. I enjoy going to the office, I love my job and I want to be in a creative, inspiring environment.  I adore being a mother but I find being a stay at home full-time mother impossibly hard.  I am selfish, I long for quiet time to myself and I crave ME time.  I think that's because I'm an only child and also just how my experience of motherhood has evolved - I had incredible help for the first 2 years and I've worked almost full-time for the 2nd two years while MacKenzie has been at school.

A week of 2am wake-ups, with cranky discombobulated boys (the 4 year old and the 41 year old) has been challenging.  On Monday, MacKenzie starts school 3 days a week from 9am to 3pm and I will head back to the gym.  I am longing for an hour a day on the treadmill just to unwind and burn some of these bagel calories!!!

I know that week 2 will be better.  Bring it on!

So here we are ...

I am the living example that if you don't make too many giant plans or have very specific expectations, things can take you by happy, blissful surprise and be better than you ever could have anticipated.  I'm a small town girl and my plans looked something like this: go to school, go to university, move to London... see what happens.

What happened was a Scotsman in November 2000 followed by a life which has (so far) unfolded in London, Sydney, Dublin, Sydney... and now New York City (temporarily!). Oh, and a baby. We had a little boy and he's in New York too. We thought it only fair.

What also happened is that my undergraduate degree in Journalism and my Postgraduate degree in Drama actually DID provide me with the skills necessary to forge a pretty great career. Told ya so.

And now I'm 35, a celebrity agent and publicist, mother of a fantastically beautiful 4 year old, wife of a wonderful, successful and loving Scotsman, daughter of doting, supportive and adoring parents...  and I'm living and working in New York City.

You don't need to know that I've been awake since June 2008 and that I single-handedly have kept Starbucks and Nespresso in business. That's irrelevant.  You don't need to know that I've gained and lost and gained and lost the same pesky 25 lbs about 25 times since 1994.  That's irrelevant too.

What you need to know is that I'm happy... right now, right here... I'm happy.  I would say it was a dream come true, but I didn't dream this. It just kind of happened.

My 4 Year Old

My personal belief is that a child arrives with his own personality and purpose and it is the duty of the parent to ensure that he flourishes and develops along the path destined for him...

My son is full of joy, has resolute conviction in himself and his actions, sings all the time and has established his own relationships with our friends and family around the world.  My fervent hope as his mommy is that everything I do actively feeds his amazing little soul and that his journey continues fuelled with the incredible joie de vivre that he has NOW at 4.

My parenting focuses more on how he interacts with people than on what foods and drinks pass his lips or what time he goes to bed. I understand that sugar is bad, but you eat it right? Parental hypocrisy is one of my personal peeves.  I would rather my son be kind and treats people well.  That's more important to me than whether he drinks apple juice and eats cupcakes.  Yes he tests the boundaries of bed time and drives me to tears of frustration, but his reasons are beautiful - he wants to be with his mommy and daddy. He doesn't want to miss out on time with us.  How can I argue with that?

Happy 4th Birthday my precious boy.  You make me understand the world better and you fill my life  with light and laughter.  You drive me insane at least once a day and I am completely exhausted all the time, but you give every second of my life purpose.  All I want is to see this little man develop into who he is becoming.  His journey is my future.

Uncomfortable silences

I am a very open person (duh) - I talk about everything and I share everything without hesitation.  I don't see the point of secrets, I don't enjoy being told classified information and I hate the faux apprehension of others coveting a secret who then gleefully spill the details in hushed tones.  I hate it all.   I hate having to pretend I don't know things, I hate when things are mistakenly revealed in the wrong company and I hate the awkward farcical cover-up and the insincerity that it heightens.  It is so much easier to be honest - like a 4 year old - who just says it all - as s/he sees it.  At some point we all grow up and become dishonest.  I don't get it.

Got Milk?

Everyone and their dog is weighing in on the Time Magazine cover and I think that's probably the point. With magazine sales plummeting and publishers opting to go digital at every turn, Time has pulled out all the stops and thrust what appears to be the last taboo at us.  This divisive, confronting and (to some) disturbing cover has certainly got us talking.

This is what I feel about the cover:

1) You realise this kid had to pose for several hours in different positions to ultimately achieve THIS money shot, right? It's unlikely that he was actually being nourished at the particular moment that the picture was taken.  I feel bad for him.  He will remember this weird day when he spent all day being photographed and being made to feel like being breastfed was news worthy. He's nearly 4. He would have gone to school the next day and talked about this. This will stick.

2) Lactivism sucks. I'm sorry but why do we have to applaud people for breastfeeding? If it is so natural then why do we have to herald it as if you're producing caviar from your elbow? I don't get it. My opinion on the subject: feed your own baby the way you want to.  Make sure your baby is fed. Full stop. That's the deal - have baby, feed it. I don't care if it's from powder in a bottle or gold dust from your nipples. Just feed your baby.

3) I understand that in the wilds of Africa etc breast milk is a safer option than the water available nearby. I get it. If I was in the wilds of Africa/India/South America I would totally breastfeed. I promise.

Week 4 - Moderation Shmoderation

You know that great line in that movie Field of Dreams 'If you build it he will come'? Well I have my own version of that 'If it's there, I will eat it'. Not quite as poetic, but true nonetheless. Moderation shmoderation. If chocolate is within walking distance of my sofa, I will eat it all. My advancing years, experience and worldy-wisdom have never helped me out in this area. My default setting for food is stupid.

Which brings me to EASTER - the festival of chocolate. I know there are religious connotations and it's not supposed to be about the food - but excuse me for being a Jewish girl with an historical, ethnic penchant for eating. For me, Easter is about chocolate and the religious experience that the sugary, calorific goodness provides.

This Easter was a little different... as was Pesach. My usual beloved dual-festival of matzo balls and chocolate wreaked fear in the depths of my soul. Not only could I not eat any of the above, but there would be 4 whole days with no gym sessions. Combine this with 24/7 mommy duty and you would be right to expect that this super-motivated, super-inspired girl was heading for imminent disaster. I am proud to say: you are wrong. Yes we did the Easter show. I had 2 strips of chicken, a black coffee and water. Yes I hosted 1st night Passover at my house, I enjoyed a fabulous 2 course dinner with several glasses of champagne... but minimal carbs and no dessert. Yes, we had an extensive Easter Egg hunt in our garden on Sunday morning. I am no means a saint. I had one Cadbury's Cream Egg and a 3 of the other tiny ones... and promptly booked a babysitter for Sunday and Monday afternoon so I could get 2 hours of cardio in. It's ok to indulge, but there have to be consequences or else the scales show you those mean horrible little numbers that you DO NOT WANT TO SEE.

So I lost weight over easter - only 0.6kgs but I think it's the only Easter I've ever lost weight. The massive bag of chocolate eggs is still in my kitchen and I haven't reached for it once. You see I want this goal weight so much that I can taste it. And it tastes better than chocolate.