I always feel a little conflicted when I hear this question, or when I even think about it from my own experience. It always comes with an assumption that New York, given how urban and dense the city is, is not baby friendly. It’s not that it’s baby unfriendly: you see endless babies in strollers and carriers literally everywhere you go. Public transportation actually exists here and is functional, so you technically don’t even need a car to cart your babies around. The issues that always come to mind first for myself are the fact that if Chris weren’t with me, there’s pretty much no way I could carry Kaia and her stroller up and down the subway stairs by myself, not just because I lack the physical strength, but more because of my wrist/hand problems. Plus, when you go into the majority of restaurants, they will not have changing stations/tables for you in the restrooms to easily change your baby’s diaper, so I end up having to put her changing pad on some dirty bathroom floor and change her there. Once, I even let her sit down on the dirty bathroom floor (well, she refused to sit still on the changing pad!!) because I (ugh) smeared poop on my hands, and there was no way I was going to get it off just by washing one hand at a time as I usually do when I have changed her. And the latest realization: a lot of restaurants here just don’t have high chairs because they do not assume you will be bringing a baby with you to dine. And many restaurants, especially the further downtown you go, will not be spacious enough for you to push your stroller inside.

But the United States is not baby friendly overall for endless reasons that I won’t go into here. But if it is unfriendly for no other reason, it’s that the vast majority of people who live in this country need to have a car to get around… it’s an absolute necessity. And that’s kind of annoying. It seems easier to have a car when you have a kid because you can just leave the car seat in the car, dump the stroller broken down into the trunk. That’s what my friends who have children always say, and they say they cannot imagine being me, hauling a stroller up and down subway stairs every weekend. But is it actually easier to live in one of those places that requires car ownership… when this means you have to… rely on yourself more and less on society itself?

Getting the reservation for our group of customers, prospects, and fellow employees was not easy tonight. One of my colleagues happened to have a father-in-law who owns a food distribution company that distributes to The Polo Bar, so he was able to call in a favor for us. We got a corner table that was semi-private. I knew this place was a trendy, celebrity-type hot spot as soon as I got out of the car in front of the entrance. There were two hostesses waiting outside with clipboards. They asked me what party I was coming in with, then asked me to check in at the front podium. I went to the front podium and shared my party, then was told to check in at the SECOND podium towards the bar. At the second podium, I was asked to then walk downstairs to check in at the THIRD podium. So in the end, I had to check in FOUR times before I was escorted over by a host to my company’s table. That, plus they asked me if I wanted to bring my coat to the coat check (um, no thanks. This isn’t a night club!).

It is no wonder to me why this place is a celebrity hot spot: as soon as you walk in, it’s clear from the ambiance they’ve created, plus the clientele, that this is a place people go to see and be seen. The bar was glittering gold. All the countertops were granite and gold. Even the bathroom mirrors and sinks and fixtures were all gold. It was a little bit ridiculous how over the top everything looked, but it was clear that the vibe they were going for was old-school New York uppity vibe, even though I believe this restaurant opened just seven years ago. The service was also very good: they constantly hover over to ask if you need anything or would like a drink, a second or a third; they are so discreet as to always top up your glass of water or wine so that you don’t even realize they have done it until you look at your glass, wondering why it looks so full since you’d already had half of it.

The food and drink were excellent, as well. The drink menu was absolutely nuts. I asked for a cocktail menu, and the server handed me the menu and opened it directly to the page with “reserve cocktails.” I got so confused for a second and wondered, why are all the cocktails $90+ each???? And then I realized that “reserve” meant that these cocktails were being stirred or shaken with the top, TOP shelf alcohol. The bottles were likely hundreds if not a thousand dollars each. And I asked the server, “So, how can I see the… regular cocktails?” He flipped the page for me. Oh, okay, got it: those are $23+ each. I guess my company can stomach that cost better.

It was a fun night of good food, service, ambiance, and decent company. I could get used to these events again. And yes, that $23 anejo tequila cocktail was likely one of the best cocktails I’ve ever enjoyed.

Since we moved into this building five years ago, we’ve signed up to pass out candy to trick-or-treaters every year we could. The last two years due to COVID, the building did not allow for this. But this year, they’ve resumed the tradition. As an adult who never really got into dressing up for Halloween, I do enjoy seeing little kids and babies in their Halloween costumes. Babies especially are super cute in the outfits their parents come up with, particularly the edible ones. My absolute favorites that I have seen include spaghetti and meatballs, Cup of Noodle, and sushi (as a whole family). I also love it when families all dress up in a theme. It’s so sweet and makes for great family photos.

The lows of passing out candy? When kids don’t want to say “trick or treat” or even thank you, but try to barge into your candy bin/basket. They begrudgingly seem entitled and give you the evil eye as they want candy and nothing else. Also, another sucky thing is when there are teenagers who are nearly adults who show up at your door, barely even in costume. You’d have to wonder why they even think they should get a single piece of candy from me and didn’t just have me slam the door in their faces. But I’m still nice to them and give them candy, but I make them say trick-or-treat… because that’s so difficult to do.

I went to visit my friend, his wife, and baby in Forest Hills today. As soon as I got off the train, it was like I was surrounded by strollers — bassinets, regular seat attachments, car seats on wheels. I couldn’t believe how many parents, grandparents, and nannies I saw with strollers. And all I could think was… when did Forest Hills become the new hot place for new parents to move? The last time I came here, I couldn’t remember seeing this many babies at all.

Then, I thought about how annoying it is taking the stroller up and down the subway stairs and how some strollers, being over 25-28lb in weight (that’s without the baby in it!!) could never even go on the train unless you had at least 2 people helping to carry it. If you lived here, you’d probably need to get around by car or by foot only.. because not only are the stairs annoying for the train, but the weekend schedule for the train would make train trips even more of a hassle. I have yet to be at a train station in Queens where you can easily see working elevators for getting into the station, but also onto and off the subway platform. Clearly, no one factored in that many moms suffer from pregnancy and postpartum carpal tunnel, not to mention mommy thumb/de Quervain’s tenosynovitis.

Since Kaia’s arrival, we obviously haven’t been spending too much time out watching movies or going to different shows or the theater. Babysitting not only gets expensive, but now given that Kaia is 10 months old, she’s in prime “stranger danger” mode, so even paying for help outside of the nanny could end up increasing her anxiety. Instead, after she goes to bed on Friday and Saturday nights, we’ve been watching Downton Abbey. Yeah, yeah, I know: it’s about 10+ years late. But it’s not like I’ve ever watched any show in its prime. Plus, with Downton, just the quick synopsis of it didn’t really interest me very much, but Chris insisted I would like it. And well, he was right. Sure, on the outset, a show about British aristocracy who don’t even know what “work” or the “weekend” is doesn’t really interest me. But the character development on the show is really rich, plus I love the interactions between the “upstairs” family and the “downstairs” servants family. The best thing about Downton is that most characters are very nuanced, just like with people in real life: no one is really all good or all bad. No one is a hero or a villain. We live in a world of shades of grey, not black and white. You don’t always love or hate any major character. You go through moments when you want to hug them and others when you want to punch them in the face. That’s what makes them all so relatable. It’s probably not realistic how well the Crawley family treats their servants, but hey, this is still TV, right?

I’m still not over Matthew dying. Chris laughs at me about it. But this is what happens when you really get invested in the character development and the story line.

It’s been raining since Saturday, and it’s been quite miserable. I don’t consider myself someone who gets seasonal depression, but I do feel sad and more moody when we transition from summer to autumn, then autumn to winter every year, as the shorter days and longer nights always annoy me, not to mention the dip in temperature. And when it’s rainy and grey outside, there’s little to no incentive for me to get out for fresh air. And then, even though I only have to go down to the third floor for the gym, I don’t even feel like going. That’s super lazy, but it’s my general feeling. I struggle to bring myself to even want to go down 16 flights of stairs via an elevator. Talk about feeling bratty and making lame excuses.

But after a few days, I eventually emerge from it all and drag myself to the gym. And I feel good once I do and get mad at myself for my previous laziness. This happens literally every single year when the seasons change. I’m that predictable with my timed laziness. 😀

The Sambal Lady had her annual food and beer event in her backyard this evening in Flatbush, and so Chris insisted that we not miss out on it. Kaia is almost 10 months old now, meaning she’s in prime “stranger danger” mood, and having a random babysitter look after her didn’t really sit well with me. Our nanny was out of town in Florida, so we couldn’t ask her to look after her, either. So we ended up just bringing her to Laksapalooza. To make matters worse, it was raining, so they had to do an outdoor tent setup outside and seat us in two groups of 20 indoors, rotating in Auria’s basement. It actually worked out really well; it was super organized and everyone was in a good mood from the delicious food and wide variety of beers and ciders.

Kaia isn’t used to being around big crowds, so I think she got a little fussy because of that. We didn’t have a good place to put her when we were outside, so we left her in her car seat on a table away from the loud music and chatter and periodically went to check on her after she had fallen asleep. While socializing, I thought I heard some high pitched crying, so I went to check on her and found her screaming and crying, upset at being left alone in a foreign place. Auria was super accommodating and hospitable to us: she let us store breast milk in her fridge, heat up milk in her kitchen, and change Kaia’s diapers in her living room. Kaia was not a fan, though. She kept looking around as though in wide-eyed terror, wondering where the hell we took her. It took forever to calm her down and she was still crying when we got an Uber to take us home. I felt a little guilty, but we didn’t really have great alternatives given the situation.

The moral of the story is: babysitters, especially ones you and the baby don’t know, don’t always solve problems, especially when your baby is in “stranger danger” age range. And when you don’t have close family nearby, you don’t have many options for childcare that don’t feel like you are burdening other people. Because even when close friends say they are happy to babysit…. they are really just saying that because it sounds good, not because they really do want to go out of their way to help you unless it’s literally life or death. And sometimes, you just have to suck it up and bring your baby. It gives them more exposure, and frankly in life, you can’t always be comfortable and have every single tiny need met, as a baby or an adult

This past Monday morning, the nanny showed up at 8am, dressed like a snowman. I’m not exaggerating: it was high 50s that morning, and she showed up in waterproof, lined winter boots, a puffy goose down jacket, and a thick hat. I laughed when I saw her and asked if she was preparing for a blizzard.

“I’m Jamaican!” she exclaimed, half laughing, half indignant. “I do not DO cold! I will wear 10 layers to avoid being cold!”

As someone who hates the cold, I don’t blame her. Every time autumn rolls around and we enter September, I always feel a little annoyed as the temperature noticeably cools down. The first morning when I wake up and feel like I need to immediately put on a sweater — that’s when I know it. Winter is around the corner. And I’ll be in hell.

That was also Monday morning when I had to throw on a zipped hoodie. No more jumping out of bed to do my thing without having another layer on! It also means that with my pumping, I can’t just pump wearing any old shirt anymore, as it means my stomach will be exposed and be cold. So I’ve started wearing my pumping/nursing tanks again to keep myself covered in the midriff. It’s definitely one downside of pumping in cold weather, even when you do pump indoors. You still want to be warm and comfy and not exposed. And you have to think about layers when it gets colder… even indoors.

For a while when doing our weekly Saturday outings to explore different neighborhoods and boroughs of New York, Chris and I would take the stroller frame with the car seat, and because he was insistent on ensuring he could do it himself, he’d carry the stroller frame collapsed down in one hand and the baby in the car seat in the other. Then, we decided to start using the stroller seat since it would provide Kaia more comfort. And even though you can technically break it down, breaking the seat down means… well, there’s no seat for the baby to go in. And Kaia isn’t walking yet, so someone would need to carry her. Chris did this a couple weekends and decided it wasn’t efficient enough, and so he decided we would both carry the stroller, NOT collapsed, and keep the baby in it. That meant one of us would need to carry the front while the other would carry the back. This was not very comfortable for me given my wrist pains/mommy thumb, plus it would occasionally be ominous when Chris would inevitably try to move the stroller faster than I would, but this is a part of taking a stroller on the subway. The subway is not wheelchair/handicap/stroller friendly AT ALL. And when you get excited occasionally and see elevators or signs for accessible stations, you will also eventually see an “out of order” sign, or the elevator will take ages and ages to arrive. And by that point, Chris will be steaming in his impatience and decide to screw the elevator option.

Is this fun? No, it’s not. It also tells you why so many city parents just stay in their own neighborhoods once they have babies because the subway system was not built for parents of babies. But it also just makes me frustrated that the subway system is not accessible in general, and they don’t have plans to make every station accessible.. until like 2055. Seriously? We spend so much money in subway fare and the fares keep going up, yet the service doesn’t seem to get any better, and we have to deal with inaccessibility crap like this. It’s so frustrating… until I remember that in pretty much every other city in this country, you need a car to get around, and public transportation is not even an option.

So the moral of the story is: it’s either going to suck, or it’s going to suck worse.