I’m walking down Hudson this week, pushing Summer in the stroller and suddenly a delivery guy puts the hard brakes on his trolly and turns around and stares at me.
And then looks away.
And then stares at me again.
“Oh damn. I thought you were that girl from Sex in the City.”
“Sarah Jessica Parker?” I ask flattered. Sure, a Maxim Magazine poll once declared her the “unsexiest woman alive” but I think she’s ultra fabulous.
“Yeah that’s the one. Hey George, doesn’t she look like that Sex and the City girl?” he asks his friend.
“She sure does. But totally different nose,” George chimes in.
And from what I saw at the Oscar’s, very different boobs too.
“Yeah… well, as you can see. I’m not her. But I’ve actually been hoping to see her myself one of these days.”
I want to tell them that I’m a bit panicked because we are planning a move to the suburbs in a few months and then I’ll only run into celebs like Phil Donahue and Michael Bolton and what kind of empty life is that?
I mean, this week alone, I spotted Hugh Jackman and Keifer Sutherland in my neighborhood. But I don’t want these delivery guys to pity me so I just say goodbye and keep walking.
And then that evening, we get an offer on our apartment.
And I immediately start crying.
And Rick looks at me in disbelief and says, “You are crazy. Why are you crying? It’s an offer! That’s good news.”
“Because I love our exposed brick and our high ceilings and my favorite coffee shops and my friends in the neighborhood and our preschool and all the awesome restaurants and our babysitter and…. THIS is where I brought my babies home. This the living room where we bounced 4 week-old Dylan on an exercise ball nonstop because it was the only thing that stopped her from crying. And this is the home where I nursed both my girls. And I don’t want someone living in our house. This is OUR home.”
I know it’s time to take my cue from “Friday Night Lights” because I believe scripted television dramas contain the key to a better, more fulfilling life.
On a recent episode, Coach Taylor puts the kaibosh on a beautiful new house his wife Tami has her heart set on. Too expensive, he says, to which Tami responds, “I don’t need this house. I don’t. I got you and I got Jules and I got Gracie Bell and the best life. I don’t need this house.”
I, too, have the best life and I know, deep under my tears, that I don’t need this house either.
“But I’m really going to miss it,” I say to Rick.
“I know. Me too.”
mama bird notes:
Contributing mama Erin Butler may not naturally be a morning person but she’s determined to kick start her day at 6 am. My money is on the snooze alarm. Click on contributing mamas to read more.