Home Sweet Home… or something.

Let’s talk about

the INTRIGUE,

The FASCINATION,

the GLAMOUR,

that is a New York City apartment.

There is not one single topic that comes up more when talking to people back home, than about my apartment.

I gotta be honest, I may have fielded off requests for the first month in the name of “unpacking”.

Once I finished unpacking It was because I was “decorating”…

then “organizing”…

then rangling wild monkeys off the coast of Somalia…

Then one month turned into two, and I started running out of excuses.

You see, the reason it took me so long to share pictures of my new place, is because me and this new home of mine had some getting to know each other to do. We needed a little “alone time” to work out some kinks, and we may or may not have butt heads a few times (give or take a few curse words).

There was some major acceptance that had to be done on my part.

And the insane cost didn’t make the adjustment any easier. An apartment in Manhattan is craaaazy expensive, there is just no way around it. I said it before but my rent for a 1 bedroom 650 sq ft apartment, is nearly double my mortgage on my 4 bedroom house back home.

Quite possibly crazier, is that in order to even get into an apartment or house on the east coast you have to pay a non refundable broker fee (which in nyc is the equivalent to 15% of your rent for the ENTIRE YEAR) Then with the added first months rent that you pay at the same time, we ended up putting more money down to get into our apartment than we did to buy our first house back in Washington!

And we are RENTING!

Whew! forgive me… All this reminiscing is making me sweat.

You should also know that while living in New York City, your suburban luxuries are gone. Now you very well may not look at the following as luxuries (I sure didn’t!) but ask anyone in the city and they will tell you otherwise.

The majority of us have NO cars- which means no convenience of a drive thru, no luxury of being able to buckle your kids in their car seat and turn up the music when they scream bloody murder, and no filling your car with loads of groceries after a Costco run. Heck, since I don’t drive anymore I can’t even remember the last time I listened to the radio. Now, that’s just weird…

NO car also means NO garage- which might not seem like thaaat big of a deal, but go look at your garage and imagine what it would be like to either have to move all that in your house or get rid of it. We chose the latter and got rid of EVERYTHING. Including our beloved Christmas tree which I don’t know if Rachel knows is currently in her basement. Merry Christmas Rachel!

We also have No washer and dryer– gasp. I know, its cruel. we rely on the good ol’ laundrymat. Which I gotta say, definitely has its bonuses… most of the time. I mean who wouldn’t want to go online and order for someone to come pick up all their dirty laundry and deliver it back to them all clean and folded?

But obviously it also has it’s drawbacks. Too often I have found myself washing my underwear in the bathroom sink, or crying continuously when my daughter decides the best way to get attention is to cry to the point of making herself puke.

Another thing about apartments in manhattan, is that a family lives in a one bedroom. Maybe two… maybe, (like if you are rolllllllllin’ in the dough $$$$$) But even then, it’s likely that your second bedroom is no bigger than a walk-in closet, And yet you pay double the rent. So needless to say we have a one bedroom for now, and it’s about the same size as our last bedroom. The only difference is we share it with a crazy toddler who is learning that just because mommy and daddy are in the same room as her doesn’t mean we want to party with her at 3am or get up and get her “melk!” at the crack of dawn.

It is also a guarantee in the city that your kitchen is both tiny AND ugly. So if you are like me, you just put chalkboard stickers all over the cabinets so that your kitchen can be tiny and ugly, yes, but FUN!

You should also know that my kitchen is considered a really good size.

Let that sink in for a moment.

Also, In the kitchen there is NO garbage disposal, NO pantry, and usually NO dish washer- thankfully, the Lord had mercy on my soul and provided one for me. All our new york friends are quite impressed!

Now before I go on, go hug your dishwasher and dance in your garage… Just because you can.

And to better illustrate what real life in an apartment like ours can be like, lets just say your toddler gets the stomach flu. In New York City it creates quite a few more complications then it might in the confounds of suburban living.

In a matter of 6 hours of my daughter puking, we were able to go through both sets of sheets, every blanket we owned, and all the towels in our house with the exception of one. Which produces two problems: yes, we have no more clean sheets, blankets, or towels, AND no washer and dryer to clean them … But we also have a bunch of throw up smelling linen lying around in waaay too small of a space, making my febreeze air fresheners work on overtime but to no avail!

Because…

my.

entire.

house.

Smells.

like .

vomit.

That’s when you undoubtedly find yourself half asleep, hunched over the bath tub, scraping puke off with your hands and using shampoo to scrub off as much of the smell that you can.

Then because of the tight living quarters and the germs swarming around it, you can bet that a couple days later, that both you and your husband are going to get sick at the same time. Literally.

In that case, because your husband is currently getting sick in the bathroom -your only bathroom- you may find yourself in the living room…

puking into a mixing bowl.

Like I said, me and my New York city apartment, had some kinks to work out.

On a positive note, I have been able to stump my mom twice when I called her in a frantic “what do I do?!?” scenario! TWICE! and I have only lived here a little over two months! Pretty impressive if you ask me.

Before we hang up, we usually come to some sort of conclusion that the only thing you could logically do, is not live in New York City.

And so there you have it.
I know You may have pictured me living this glamorous urban life on the Upper East Side of Manhattan, when really I am just puking in a mixing bowl and laundering my underwear in the bathroom sink.

We will talk all about the “glitz and glamour” next week. And about all the reasons why New York City (and even more specifically my apartment) can be the most exciting place to live.

But for now,
As I, sit in the corner, rocking back and forth in fetal position, whispering over and over to myself, “this is where my shepherd had lead me.. this is where my shepherd has lead me…”

I.

Must.

Mentally.

Recover.

From the madness.

That is my New York City apartment.