Last week, we were laid up. All week. I don't know if it was inevitable post-travel sickness or if we fell victim to the dreaded New York fall allergy plagues; but whatever the reason, it went as sickness usually goes in our house. Iris has this insane ability to contract symptoms long before any of us feel the least bit poorly, yet she never misses a beat. I think being sick actually multiplies her energy into some superhuman force. A day or two later, Edith will get sniffly and cuddly and Trev will feel gross but be forced to go on with life as normal because, adulthood. Then at the very end, I will come down with a sickness that I try to ignore until the third day, and on the third day, I'm drained of every ounce of energy--RIGHT ABOUT THE TIME THAT IRIS IS FEELING BETTER. It's a very efficient system and doesn't cause even the smallest amount of domestic tension.
(Note: I almost pulled my hair out last week.)
We are mostly better now. And the air is perfectly autumnal and delightful--you know the kind! The sun is still warm and the air is cool, especially when the breeze blows through the drying trees, fluttering a few leaves to the ground. You can't leave home without a jacket, but you might not need it, and isn't that a nice surprise? I'm burning through my lavender and eucalyptus candle as fast as I can because I can feel it in the air: It's time to break out the cinnamon apple spice!
Let's see. Ah, yes. Traveling! Did you see on Instagram that my little brother got married? It was the most beautiful wedding, and completely surreal to watch Baby Josh marry the love of his life, Lacey, who is sweet in every way. It's crazy to think that Trevor and I were the same age when we married and aren't we such grown-ups now? (I guess I'm putting all the sarcasm in italics today?) We flew to Oklahoma City for the wedding, which aside from attending the wedding and seeing all our family, allowed us to visit with some old and dear college friends too!
We came back to New York last week, and I was wondering how it was going to feel to fly back into the city after a few days on those western plains, playing in backyards and easily finding a Starbucks (because sometimes you just need a Starbucks). But it was wonderful. It felt like coming home to touchdown at LaGuardia and catch that perfect city skyline out the taxi window on the ride back to Brooklyn. I think summer was an excellent lull this year, and we were sort of suspended between two lives and willingly taking our time getting into things. Fall is rushing into the city with its freshness and its homeyness and it feels right to be settling in and finding our rhythm now.
Plus the [Gotham] streets are safe--I saw Batman just chilling in the park last week.
And finally, let us break down my latest New York dilemma. Here's the thing: Am I the only one who doesn't know what to do with her hands when walking down the sidewalk alone? I mean, generally I'm pushing the stroller. Or if I' wearing a jacket or pants with big pockets, cool. If I'm carrying a purse I can put one hand on the straps and, obviously, a coffee in the other, so that's good. But yesterday I left for a bit to do some writing, and I was wearing jeans, a button-down, and carrying my backpack. Turns out this creates a lot of problems. Like the jean pockets were too awkwardly small for my hands unless I wanted to look like I was posing for senior portraits. And if I put my hands around the backpack straps, it puckered my button-down inappropriately! Was I supposed to let my hands hang down at my sides? Is it weird that this does not feel natural to me? My arms are freaking pendulums, I tell you; they start swinging wider and wider as I go until I look like a gorilla, or, at the very least, one of those crazy speed walkers. Anyway, still working on a solution.