Tag Archives: manhattan

During our recent anniversary lunch, Cool Mum and I reminisced about all of the homes we’ve had during our marriage. It took most of our lunch date to reconstruct the timeline.

In all, we’ve lived in 12 places over the 13 years of the Cool Marriage. And that doesn’t include the 12 or so places we stayed for anywhere from one night to a month when we had no place to call our own.

In chronological order with a rough estimate of size, we’ve lived in:

1. A 400 sq ft one bedroom, Gainesville, FL


A cozy starter place across the street from the UF campus. A family member may or may not have cried after seeing how cozy the apartment was. We were there a year.  Continue reading

[UPDATE: Several bugs (in my brain) kept the video from working. It works now!]

You are cordially invited to take a tour of our luxurious and spacious home on the Upper East Side of New York City! Our ground floor apartment is a little low on lighting, both natural and electrical, so it’s a little dark – sorry about that. Just be sure to stay close to your guide or you may get lost! [embedded video for you RSS readers]

New Yorkers will be mumbling for the rest of the weekend about the strange, shrill sound that was echoing through the streets of Manhattan this afternoon. Not us though. We know exactly what that was about.

We spent a couple of hours at the Museum of Natural History (highest recommendation, by the way), then had lunch at an American hotspot on 72nd and Broadway (McDonald’s). We capped off our afternoon with a cookie from Levain Bakery.


It was then that the boy decided that he was not happy, and expressed his discontent with cries of Mama, Mama as we trekked down the sidewalk. For the whole 45-minute walk.

The Crying Route (click to enlarge)

I’ve found that New Yorkers rarely turn their attention to anything. Not the subway speeding inches in front of them, not the taxi driver yelling at them as they jaywalk, not the movie star who walks by.

However, Cool Baby turned plenty of heads today. At least a dozen people couldn’t help but look as we approached, just having to check out who/what was making the shrieking.

I’ve tried to tell myself that I don’t care what people think; I don’t care if they’re judging us. Everyone who has a kid understands. I mostly believe that, but it still bothers me a little.

Honestly – do you judge the parents of screaming kids?