I haven’t written in eight-ish months about Theo and, when I pulled up the old blog, I found this draft from over a year ago. It makes me happy that I’m reading it in the northwest where the challenges are the ones I grew up with and the veggie chips are crisp.
“I’m cranky. I spent a long, hot summer pregnant and, while my Idahoan friends are filling Facebook with photos of the fall, there’s plenty of hot New Orleans summer left to go. More, navigating the new challenges of parenthood is just harder to do in a new place with its own challenges that I haven’t had time to get used to. I have several New Orleans-based complaints which are marginally unfair, but which I’m going to list anyway:
- No matter how tired I am I can’t go to sleep if the kitchen isn’t clean because food residue will attract cockroaches.
- Despite the good work of our indoor mosquito trap, mosquitoes persist in the house. They are potential disease vectors and one bit me on my goddamn forehead.
- A bunch of little flies recently started swarming around the rocking chair. They look benign, but they land on Theo’s face while he nurses, third world style. They are slow and satisfying to crush with my fingers.
- There’s something living in the bathroom wall, I hear it scratching at night.
- The water from the bathroom sink sometimes tastes like mildew when I brush my teeth.
- There are boil water advisories here, but I never hear about them before I drink the water.
- We are at the bottom of the watershed, my filter removes lead, but what the heck else is in this water?
- It is so loud all the time. Sirens. Fighter jets. Trains. Barges. Neighbors with impressive sound systems.
- My neighbors wake me up just walking across the wooden floor with shoes, watching TV, having sex.
- There’s a thin wall and no door between the refrigerator compressor and our bedroom.
- There’s no door to lock the cat out of our bedroom, so she’s free to walk back-and-forth meowing her anxieties day and night.
- I get out of the shower and still feel wet.
- My veggie chips get all soggy in the cupboard.
- It feels hotter in the summer and colder in the winter.
- There’s mold around the air registers in the house and it’s possible there’s mold in the walls. You can see the drywall hasn’t been disturbed since Katrina.
- Poisonous lead in dust and paint, too tired to clean.
- Inability to walk safely at night.
- Lack of hiking options.
- Distance from family.
- Distance from old friends.
- Distance from Lake Pend Orielle.
- Significant possibility of being glared at in the street; slight possibility of being yelled at in the street.
- Shitty roads.
- Fucking parades.”
Looking back, though, it’s all rosy and nostalgic.