"You're still in the city? Don't worry, you'll get a house soon." A (former) friend of mine actually said that to me with a straight face. As if staying in the city to raise my kids was some kind of booby prize.
"Gee, I'd love to move to the 'burbs and send my kids to school for free, but I'm stuck here in New York spending a sum akin to the gross national product of Chad to send them to school because I can't get out. Woe is me. Help me, oh suburban wise-woman."
Puh-lease. Yes the city is loud. Yes the cost of living is high, the square
footage of my
apartment is low, and grime seems to deliberately make it's way through the cracks in my eighty-year old windows just to piss me off. (Click on the link for a solution, it really works) But I am a city person and I will never, ever move to the suburbs. I do not like the suburbs. I would be bored. I would feel isolated. I would have to drive a lot. I would start eating in chain restaurants and start thinking they were good. I would not be able to go to the theater on a weeknight,discover a new shop just by wandering a few blocks from home, or get truly great takeout any night I didn't feel like cooking.
But that's all about me. What about my kids? Am I depriving them of fresh air, and bigger classrooms, and bike rides, and trick or treating door to door by raising them in Manhattan? Do I just tell myself that they're getting it all, when really they're missing out on so much?
In a word, no.
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