It feels strange that Hoboken and the US are now beginning to feel like home. I go about my day to day life sometimes forgetting that I'm only 20 minutes away from New York City and it takes a trip to my gym which is located on the 7th floor of a condo here with the most amazing views of the city, for me to realise where I am.
Hoboken seems perfect for us and despite only being here 3 weeks, I love it. Apart from being so close to NYC, the streets are quiet enough to walk down on weekdays and weekends, the parks are great, the amenities for kids are really good and the people are lovely.
I'm finally getting into a routine these days which is making my life that much easier. (This doesn't mean getting dressed every morning is any better but we'll work on that) Before moving to the US I thought Gina Ford was a load of sh*. No offense. I'm not saying I'm converted but I've come to realise she has a few sensible things to say about how to juggle family, life and 'me time' without having full time help. Everyday I think about my old life in Singapore and what I used to get up to. What did I get up to? What did I do without having to think about laundry, cleaning, cooking and kids? I keep thinking when I'm folding clothes, sweeping up crumbs and doing other boring repetitive tedious menial domestic tasks that hey its ok as one of these days I'll wake up and be back in the land of undomestic bliss. A girl can dream.
Despite my 'hardship' I'm glad to report things are definitely getting better. Last week I met a few girls and with a small growing circle of friends, with kids the same age as mine, weekly activities and things to do, I'm finally feeling happier. It might also be that I woke up Saturday morning and realised too that maybe I just need to harden the f* up and stop feeling sorry for myself. Yes, its tough and yes I'm never going to have perfectly manicured fingers again, perfectly plucked eyebrows or ironed clothes, my kitchen floor will always be sticky, bath toys will never be clean, my cds won't be in alphabetical order and the coffee cups with their handles all pointing the same way but I can learn to live with that.
William has settled into day care really well and seems to have lots of good things to say every afternoon when I collect him. I miss him so much when he's there and I hate drop off, but I know that he's benefiting from having constant kid/ teacher interaction and I'm not sure what I'd do with him everyday five days a week if he didn't go. I love the fact that these days we have such good conversations on the way home from school and that he remembers everything we do and say. It amazes me everyday the quirky things he says and how much he knows. And boy does he talk a LOT! The amazon delivery guy gets a welcome, come on in, who are you, what are you doing, where are you going, what have you got and full run down of the day every time we get something delivered.
Having Emma around 24/7 is proving quite hard. I joined the gym just as we moved into our place hoping I would get the opportunity to go at least three or four times a week. They have a kids club where you can drop said kid off to be entertained by a few kid entertainers allowing you time to gym before collecting happily entertained kid. So, last Tuesday I geared up, dropped Will off at school, trotted along to the gym and got Emma all excited about what was in store for her. She seemed to look around the room with amazement as all kids do when put in a new place full of new exciting toys yet strange people, I signed a couple forms and hot footed it out. I stretched for all of 2 minutes and got onto one of the treadmills. Marathon training begins. (I've entered the New York Marathon).
9 minutes. 9 whole friggin minutes and kid entertainer came and asked me to take Emma out. Apparently she was screaming so much she was freaking all the other kids out. I sat with her for another twenty minutes to try see if she'd change her mind but there's no point asking Emma to do something she doesn't want to do. Stubborn as her father.
So, we'll try again tomorrow....
I'm still not used to the kids sharing a bedroom and like they say if it's not one thing it's another, or is it if it's not one it's the other. William has been waking up a few times these past few nights with various complaints so I'm only assuming tonight if it's not another moan about his black eye (slide injury) or cut finger (door injury) or emotional injuries (today a slightly older looking kid in the playground told William to leave the play area otherwise he'd shoot him. American kids!) it'll be Emma wanting a hug at 3am. So, I'm off to bed. Night.x
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