I was taking a mini walk with Justin — sometimes we take a stroll to the community dumpsters for some alone time, garbage bags in hand, a sprinkling of stars above us, and I won't even pretend that it's silly because alone time is alone time and fresh air is fresh air — and we started "remember when-ing". Remember when we lived in a Brooklyn apartment, above a crazy old lady who threatened our lives when we walked too heavily up the stairs?
Remember when I was pregnant and we lived in that giant gymnasium-like loft, and the roof kept leaking and then the gas kept leaking? And we had to find a new place to live weeks before my due date?
Remember when our backyard was a concrete slab and our street was well in the city's "lock your car" boundaries? And how, after we moved, Noah cried and cried for the concrete slab and concrete steps? And for the iron gate that was magical to him, but basic protection for us?
Remember when we couldn't make ends meet (we laugh while still pinching pennies at the end of the month because preschool + student loans + basic living = $$$)?
"But isn't that normal?" he said. "For the beginning."
Don't all of our parents (and grandparents) have war stories from their broken-down apartments with cramped space and questionable water supplies? And didn't they make it out alive — able to look back and laugh?
Is financial stability a prerequisite for modern parenting?
And I'm really asking, because I don't know. Has life changed too drastically — with preschool payments equaling a mortgage and health insurance lingering right around the "You want HOW MUCH?" price range? Or did we forget that people can struggle in the beginning without it defining their whole lives. That there's life beyond motherhood. That there's beauty and lessons in the (temporary) struggle.
What do YOU think?