Book Tour

About a month ago I got an email from Ayun Halliday asking if I would like to be part of her Mama Lama Ding Dong virtual book tour. After taking a moment to distinguish her from Ayelet Waldman (don't ask) I swooned from the implied compliment and wrote a fatuous note of acceptance.

A few days later I was cutting through the Travel section of Borders on my way from the children's area to the checkout (what else would I be doing in Travel? where do I think I am going? the Boundary Waters?) and I spied a copy of her travel memoir No Touch Monkey. Since we were now clearly best friends (not to mention, heh heh heh, No Touch Monkey: And Other Travel Lessons Learned Too Late, the title alone, that's funny) I bought it. And I loved it. I read from one hand while I picked up a million little cars with the other. I let Patrick eat applesauce while typing on my computer to buy myself another ten minutes to get through Africa with Ayun. I read parts aloud to Steve and I finished the entire thing that afternoon.

It didn't matter that I have never been to any of the countries she visited. It didn't matter that she devoted a large quantity of prose to gastrointestinal distresses, a subject that we all know leaves me clammy and pale on the chaise longue. Her self-deprecating humor and genuinely fascinating anecdotes swept me along beside her.

So I was really looking forward to Mama Lama Ding Dong (a book I will henceforth refer to as The Big Rumpus because that is the edition I read and if I have to type all of those a's and m's again we are not going to get very far). It is billed as "A Mother's Tale From The Trenches" and what could be more fitting than that? I'm a mother! I'm in the trenches right now, and you know what? They are filthy, but every now and then the enemy comes over and kisses me on the lips and gives me a crushed snapdragon and I somehow soldier on. I was looking forward to sharing the exquisite tedium of child-rearing with her just as I had vicariously enjoyed her relief from that dislocated knee in Southeast Asia.

I am not proud of this next part so bear with me until we reach the more enlightened conclusion. After reading the first few chapters of The Big Rumpus I was dismayed to discover that I am not the liberal, live-and-let-live, never-stop-learning, new experience-seeker who I believed myself to be. I am actually an insecure, defensive, petty ass. I know! I was shocked too. But for some reason the differences between Ayun and myself in perspective and temperament that made No Touch Monkey such a delightful read suddenly became horribly divisive when the subject was motherhood. I personally would not go on a gorilla expedition by myself if my brother's life depended upon it, but I read her travel memoir with the avid pleasure of a voyeuse. Fuck common ground, man. Who cares if I would have been selling my body for just fifteen minutes in a Hyatt after one night with her in Germany? This was excellent, entertaining stuff and it didn't matter that I could only barely relate to it through personal experience. However, when she wrote her views on cribs, circumcision or living anywhere but New York in The Big Rumpus, I bridled. I took umbrage. I muttered, "Oh yeah?" as I read. I was no longer charmed by a glimpse down the road not taken, I was positively threatened by it. 

Consider, for example, the always innocuous subject of breastfeeding. I breastfed Patrick. After three weeks of cracked bleeding nipples, numerous infections, and much weeping and gnashing of the teeth (mine) it got better and we persevered and it was fine. But, to borrow a fantasy from The Big Rumpus, would I have asked to nurse Patrick one final time if I found myself fatally pinned between a subway car and the platform? No. I would have asked for some goddamned morphine or, failing its ready availability, one last Camel Light now that I would no longer need to worry about cancer or setting a poor example for my son. Reading Ayun's paean to breastfeeding made me feel... inadequate. About something we had both done but I was suddenly afraid that I had not sufficiently enjoyed! How ridiculous is that?

While I know there are any number of ways to travel through Asia (I would prefer to be carried on a litter but what fun to read about Ayun hobbling on her own two feet) I guess in my heart of hearts I felt like there must be only one right way to raise a child. And if The Big Rumpus chronicles the Right Way than in numerous instances my way is, by default... wrong. I felt judged by her funny and gentle stories of raising children in New York. I frantically tried to think of a time when Minnesota-born Patrick has entered an actual butcher shop, seen a Rastafarian, or stepped delicately over a crack addict. I was only able to conjure his impressive familiarity with where my favorite Mossimo t-shirts are hidden at both Close Target and Less-close Target. And I felt terrible.  Which is patently absurd. Of course it is. I know that. I am not a worse parent, just a different one. And difference is INTERESTING! Difference is EDUCATIONAL! Difference is GOOD!

Allowing this intellectualized defense to beat the crap out of my visceral, I'm-a-terrible-mother insecurities,  I poured myself a nice big glass of a chewy red wine and I tried again.

On page 41 of The Big Rumpus Ayun writes :

"What would have become of me if I did live in a suburb, or even a city like Los Angeles, where it is normal for new parents to have cars and backyards with their own swing sets? I would have gone mad from the isolation! I would have had to join a mother's group! I would have crawled there on my knees if I didn't have a sports utility vehicle."

The first time I read this I guiltily checked the two SUVs in our garage and skipped my eyes past the new playset in the front yard with its three slides, two swings, multi-level climbing decks and periscope. I remembered the communist playgroup (name my own. irony intended) I joined when we moved here and my cheeks burned with shame.

But do you know what? She is right. I DID go mad from isolation when we moved to this third-tier rural suburb. I DID join a mother's group (to which I drove my SUV) in the fever of my madness and, while I mostly loathed every second of it, it did give me a day off from taking Patrick through Target... AGAIN.

And what of it?

I like living here. I like our 80 acres of woods and our wild berries and the family of baby raccoons that comes to share the bounty of our bird and deer feeders. I like the fact that I sort of hate our neighbors and I never ever ever have to see them. I like the tranquility and I like the moonlit nights when you can hear the coyotes hunting. I like our small town with its vitriolic politics and its 140 year old ice cream shoppe. I like the fact that when I need a shower curtain Bed Bath and Beyond, Linens-n-Things, Walmart, SuperWalmart, Target and Target Greatland all share a parking lot ten minutes from my house. I like that a nice guy named Dan delivers a week's worth of groceries every Tuesday and puts them in my kitchen for me. It is easy here. It is an easy place to raise Patrick, peaceful and bucolic.

Which is not to say I would not sell my soul for a pretzel vendor or Burmese food or daily commune with a gloriously mish-mashed humanity that would prevent Patrick from one day shaming me for all eternity by saying to a stranger, "Excuse me, but I cannot help but notice that you are black... ." Because I would. I would sell a small wedge of my soul for these things.

But back to The Big Rumpus (this is going somewhere, trust me). By thus giving myself permission to envy Ayun in her never-sleeping city while acknowledging that I would hate it there and that's ok too, I was able to enjoy The Big Rumpus as another brilliant travelogue of sorts. An exotic adventure in parenting where the differences can be as satisfying as the similarities (hey! she thinks being a mother is pretty damned boring too!)

And there are certainly differences between how Ayun Halliday and I approach the delicate art of child wrangling. Chief among them, I think, being location and all that location entails.

I asked Ayun to explain it to me. Why? Why a big city? Why SUCH a big city? Why New York?

I wrote:

"... what makes it worth your while to carry six bags of groceries up three flights of stairs to an apartment that is smaller than my garage... WITH A BABY ON YOUR BACK? You are a better man than I am, Gunga Din, that is for damned sure. It seems like raising children in NYC would be rather, I don't know, inconvenient."

And she replied:

Yes, it's grueling to haul groceries four blocks on foot, then up three flights. Yes, there's a good chance your child will eat the bagel he or she dropped to the sidewalk, unmindful of the fine veneer of urine covering every New York City surface that's free to the general public. And yes, we rarely get to MOMA, the theater, the Met, or any of the other amenities that allegedly make my tiny apartment and colossal rent so worthwhile. But I love it. I love being a mother in this town, love the sense of community, love being where the action is, love all the crazy diversions going down on any given day. Much of what I love about raising kids in the city is encapsulated in the Coney Island Mermaid Parade, the high point of my religious calendar. Chinese New Year is a close second. Oddly, both of these events tend to put my husband in an ill temper. Anyway, here for what it's worth, are just a few of the things I love about raising children in NYC, vis a vis The Coney Island Mermaid Parade.

1. Taking the subway in a bra and a tail.

My similarly garbed children's providing escort deflects all unwanted attention of the hootchie-coo variety, as well as the slings and arrows of passengers who might disapprove of a solo middle-aged woman flaunting her flabby abs and bodacious ta tas (I owe it all to a kelp-covered underwire bikini top). We have seen strange things on the subway and sometimes we are the strange things on the subway. I always get a little thrill when the F train goes above ground, affording us a killer view of the Statue of Liberty. God Bless My America, and I don't differentiate between 'em, though I am partial to Hannuman, Hinduism's most awesome monkey! Let Freedom Ring! We like peering into the next car and discovering that it, too, contains mermaids. We regret that Greg recently purchased a car, that's how much we love us some subway. We will never take a car to Coney Island Mermaid Parade because parking's a bitch, and that's just the way we like it.

2. Freak flags flying in broad daylight and en masse

It's almost always pleasant, but hardly a big deal, to spot a person of unusual appearance on the streets of this town - just yesterday, Inky and I were admiring a bike messenger working some sort of Robo-Insect look - but it's an intoxicating experience for both me and the kids to fall in step with so many fellow New Yorkers who are willing to shed their inhibitions and every day plumage, if only for this day. It's something to look forward to all year. Let other children grow up to remember their mother's hunched over an ironing board. I can dig that not every adult digs the spotlight, but I do feel mildly-to-extremely irritated with these people who want their children to march with us in the Mermaid Parade, but who do not want to march alongside themselves, because they are too shy or too straight or too something to participate. You know what I say? It's just one day. One day to look and act differently. One day where cotton candy and beer can constitute lunch. One day to smile at every single stranger who wants to take your picture. I'm capable of behaving with respect, modesty, and reserve when the situation called for it. I can't understand the rationale of refusing to shake one's mermaid tail for just one fun, silly, memorable day. It doesn't seem like it should be such a big rubber plant to move on behalf of one's child.

3. Costume Heaven

I'm not much of a seamstress, but years of low-budget theater can turn anyone into a costume designer. Some of my fellow mermaid's costumes are works of art, requiring scrod knows how many hours of labor. By comparison, our crew's finery is humble indeed, but boy howdy, do I love me an excuse to trawl the city's many bizarre notion's emporia, cheap n' sleazy clothing outlets, and art supply stores! I like wandering through the cavernous restaurant supply stores on the Bowery, thinking to myself, say, those little woks would make a good bra. There's an industrial plastic supply place on Canal Street that offers endless possibilities...

4. An alternative to corporate culture

The Brooklyn Cyclones may play ball in Keyspan Park, but this year's parade was sponsored by the Mud Truck, an East Village institution, that started as a coffee wagon run by a local couple who brought their baby to work. Last year's sponsor was Bust magazine. There's a do it yourself feel to the whole shebang that's both familiar and inspirational. And for a big event there is a refreshing paucity of crap for sale. Proceeds from Mermaid Parade t-shirts (and sailor caps!) help fund Coney Island USA, a non-profit organization that guards and foments the special vibe of the place. Much much better than, I don't know, all the plastic Blues Clues shite on sale in Radio City's lobby when we had (free) tickets to Blues Clues Live. I can't/won't spend twelve dollars on a foam rubber visor shaped like a dog's head... and I resent having to run a gauntlet of high-priced television tie-ins with young children in tow. Inky, at three, knew the deal ("The one we make out of construction paper at home will be better! The money we save can go toward something really fun!"), but I witnessed plenty of other parents having to deal with screaming melt downs brought on by all that merchandising. Call me a Commie, but I'd like to thank Coney Island USA for making it all so easy for me to set a good example in the responsible consumption department.

5. Flesh Parade

Every year, when we are discussing who to invite, Inky suggests some kid whose parents are devout Muslims, or old school, practicing Catholics and I'm like, "Uh..." I can dig that not everybody's down with public nudity, but speaking for myself, I'm a big believer in all that jiggling, imperfect flesh, mostly because of the pride with which it is displayed. I'm counting on happy, hefty mermaids and - men of all ages to combat the narrow definitions of beauty and social acceptability to which my children are and will be exposed, just by virtue of living in contemporary American society. Actually, Coney Island can be counted on to set a good example in this department on any sunny summer day, not just that glorious afternoon when pirates, mermaids, sailor-men and other creatures of the sea throng the boardwalk. Time Out New York always botches the job with its annual swimsuit issue. Instead of hiring skinny, teenage models they should cull them off the beach of Coney Island! In addition to the always heart-warming diversity of body types on display, there's a full spectrum of racial representation, something I lacked growing up and now consider essential.

6. Living History!

Every year, my class would make a pilgrimage to the Indianapolis Motor Speedway, which, in my book, was an experience akin to Bart Simpson's box factory field trip. What I wouldn't have given for a honky-tonk boardwalk, some fresh air, a rich and seedy history, rides of questionable safety, an annual even where you get to dress up like a mermaid and a non-exploitive, but definitely old-timey freak show. (Ask my kids about the East German guy who swung rusty buckets of fire extinguishers and other assorted weights from cables connected to his primitively pierced ear lobes!) I would have given anything, that's what.

And she sent these photos as incontrovertible proof that much earthy, weird fun was had:

I want to bring my trusty seaweed thong and my, um, WOKS? (DAMN Ayun!)... and my Lady Godiva hair and  go revel with the other mermaids. I also want to offer this, a photo from the same month, different childhoods, 1200 miles apart (NOT my house! we DO NOT plant little American flags! Repeat! NOT MY HOUSE!) I cannot resist these parallel visions of an Americana summer, eh?

When describing the mothers outside New York who read her zine, Ayun writes, "It's good just to know they are out there, in Bumblefuck, Idaho. We might not see eye to eye on the best place to raise children, but we are all in the same boat."

So what do you think? Have you read this book? Did you like it? Do you live in a city? The City? Old suburb, new suburb, farm? If you have children (or are trying to, you know what I mean, don't get mad at me) did they (or the desire for them) affect your decision to live where you do? Is it hard easy rewarding annoying?

Oh, and do consider buying The Big Rumpus. And No Touch Monkey while you are at it. They are funny and smart. You'll like them. 

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On a completely unrelated note, Friday's hcg results will be back today. I will update the bottom of this post when I get them. I could write a new post but wouldn't that be like agreeing to host a book signing in my little shop and then telling the author that we have set up her table in the men's bathroom because the nice space in the front is being used for an employee birthday party? Exactly. But check back here after noon if you like. 800 or bust, that's the banner.

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Damn it damn it daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaamn iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit!!!!!!!!!

Hcg - 786

So, two days apart:

196, 406, 786. Feh. Also bah. Possibly faugh.

I am seriously disappointed. 'Nother draw tomorrow.

Comments

[Lisa V]

Tell Ms. Halliday, that being a resident of Bumblefuck, Idaho I could get really pissy and totally become defensive and point out that we are the third largest city in the Northwest and commonly make the top 10 lists of the best places to live in the U.S. and we are pretty damn urban.

But instead, I will say make fun of Bumfuckegypt, Wyoming next time. Or South Dakota.

I have read mixed reviews of the book on a couple of different blogs. I will likely read it to see what it's all about.

[Jen P]

I envy your town Julia. We're far more rural than yourself and dude, I'd give ANYTHING for a Bed, Bath & Beyond.

Or Target for that matter.

:::SOBS:::

G-d, rest ye merry Target.

Refresh, refresh, refresh.

I don't read books like the one mentioned -- authors being haughtily 'right' unsettles me, and given my desire to shove shit down those type's big ol' mouths, I stay far, far away.

Too many words for this dumb rural one.

[mirandola]

This is almost certainly going to win the pointless information of the year prize, but here goes.

Was talking to a geneticist friend the other day, who has some experience of dealing with balanced translocations, and friend said that it was possible to use ivf and pre-implantation diagnosis to select healthy embryos.

That's all. Apologies if (as is almost certainly the case) you've heard this before a thousand times and it doesn't work in your case.

[Leslie]

So glad I can count on you for a late nite (early morning?) read when I CAN'T SLEEP.
In my past life I would have been the parade planner for the annual freak-fest of wherever I lived - which is many places. And I sometimes miss the days when everything I owned fit in my car. But I am doing the suburban mom thing complete with split-level ranch house and a mini-van. We fall firmly between your 80 acres and the 3rd floor walk-up in the city. We have swingset AND a trampoline (heaven help me it was a gift from my parents) in the yard and still find time to go the park and the pool and the neighbors and the nature center and, when it rains, the play place at Mickey D's or the mall. I have wondered if we are missing out by not living in the city (the Windy one...) and I think if we didn't have a child we would happily be living in a charming neighborhood complete with a Starbucks on every other corner. We have also searched for an outpost where we could have more idyllic life, but we'd give up alot and the isolation factor concerns me.
I am reminded of a conversation a year or so ago with a colleague who was expecting twins. Being a long time city-dweller she felt that nothing could be more convenient than raising a family in the city, while I felt just the opposite.
So, long post to say "yeah, whatever." I like our quiet oak-lined street and the school being only 5 blocks away with no busy streets to cross and my mini-van and my attached two-car garage and our neighbors and Spanish storytime at the libarrie and not needing a cab to get to the emergency room...

[Anna]

Well, in addition to being the UK publisher of Mama Lama Ding Dong (which we just call MLDD to save on a's and m's), I also happen to be from Minnesota and have been transplanted to London.

I haven't got children yet, but I think the most important (if obvious) thing I've learnt is that your location is only what you make of it.

When I lived in MN, I longed for a big city and all its culture -- oh, the things I would do! Now that I live in London. . . I still sit on the sofa and watch TV in the evenings. Turns out that that's just the sort of person I am!

I'm actually moving back to Minnesota in October (and this is the first the internets have heard of it), and I'm looking forward to the move. I'll miss the coolness of the big city, and the glow I imagine it gives me when I talk to old friends (that's probably just sweat -- public transport it hot!). But I think, in the end, it's lawns and Target for me.

[Jennifer]

I live in inner-city Sydney, Australia with two boys (5 and 3) and am starting to feel the pressure of no backyard. But I love being a train ride away from the Maritime Museum, the Science museum, the Australian museum and the Aquarium, and I'm really looking forward to when the boys are old enough to go to the annual Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras parade (it's past their bedtimes right now).

Around here, the conventional wisdom is that the ages from 5-10 are the hardest to being an inner city parent, after 10 they just wander off by themselves anyway, and love the freedom of public transport.

I don't know if we'll make it that far, though. A backyard would be nice.

[Beret]

I live in the boondocks, about 5 miles from the site of the original Woodstock (now known as Bethel Woods Performing Art Center). We live on 9 acres of woods, our nearest neighbor is 1/2 a mile down the road. The nearest Target is 45 minutes away.

Ayun assumes we all have a choice about where to raise our children. We can choose to move to NYC, or move to Bumblefuck, Idaho (what a freaking ridiculous word). I didn't have a choce. I met my wonderful husband in a bar 10 years ago and made out passionately with him that night. I gave him my number and SURPRISE, he called! I was just out of a long-term relationship with a complete loser (and abuser) and he was a dream. He owns a business here in the boonies and told me right when we started dating he could not/would not be moving until he retires. I "chose" to keep seeing him but there really was no choice. He was the most awesome man I'd ever met. 10 years and 2 kids later I'm so glad I made the "choice" to stay with him.

There are many things I miss about city life (I lived in Minneapolis for years), but I also love it here in the country. We're only 2 hours out of NYC and a little taste here and there is PLENTY.

I wish Target was closer though.

[Kez]

I live in Australia. If Ayun thinks Idaho is a long way away, what must she think of my decision to raise my child in the Southern Hemisphere? In the outer suburbs of a city that no one outside of Australia has ever heard of?

Fuck the MOMA and Coney Island. I'm here because my family is here, my husband's family is here, we have grandparents and great grandparents and until last week, a great great grandparent within five minutes. Rather the smile on my father's face when my son smiles at him than ogling a stranger in a mermaid suit any day.

Woops. Why the hell am I so grumpy? Must be because I'm caring for a sick child for the first time. And I bet Ayun would be as frantic with a sick little one as I am. I think we need to remind ourselves as mothers what binds us together and makes us all equal, not going for one-upmanship over matters as trivial as breastfeeding and location.

[Chickenpig]

I live in neither a suburb nor a city, I live in a small town...which I think is just right. We have a Target close by, but we also have museums nearby (small but good). We are close enough to everything to get there with a double stroller. Including the hospital where my twins were born, which we can see from my front porch. I live on a dead end street, and all my neighbours are great. In fact, it was the neighbour next door who threw me a baby shower, and the one next to her who have baby sat as well. I think the city is dirty, crowded, violent, and a terrorist target. Thankfully, we live a short drive from both New York and Boston, so we can visit and not have to live there.

[anothter Amy]

Just the other day my husband, infant daughter, and I were returning home from a little trip to Boston, where we used to live. We left the city several years ago for our 80 acres of forest and wild berries in Maine and are now living what we think is the most perfect life imaginable. While in the car as we were battling the traffic that was leaving the city to visit Maine, presumably to get away from the craziness that is their normal lives, we pondered why on Earth would anyone want to raise children in that environment. Then we realized that since many millions more people choose to live in the city than live in rural places like us, someone somewhere must see some value in it. I guess Ayun is one of those people. I can't wait to read her book to find out what's so great about that life.

[Nikki]

Sigh...my husband and I have this conversation at least twice a week. We both lived in Minnesota until we were in our mid-20s, then set off for New York. And we fell hard for this city—the energy, and potential for random experiences (see: Mermaid Parade), the career potential…you know, the dazzling lights and all that.
But now we have a one-year-old. And suddenly my childhood is coming back to me in waves. I LIKED having a backyard. And we’re deathly afraid of raising a kid who’s so jaded that he rolls his eyes at the mere mention of the Midwest. Brooklyn feels right for now…we’ll see if the lakes eventually lure us back.

[Pamplemousse]

Lovely advice but has Mirandola visited here before??

[falimako]

heh.. another Australian here. While I think I would love the convenience of living in a city, I also love growing a vegetable garden with my kids in our backyard. It seems to me that there are pros and cons about wherever you live, so it seems silly for people to be judgemental about where you choose (or don't choose) to live.
Although, I do think I have the perfect balance. I live a 40 minute train trip out of the city, and I am right on the very edge of suburbia, practically in the country. Adelaide, Australia is a great place to live!

[Waya]

THAT was a great review! It makes me want to go online to Bn.com while sitting comfortably overlooking my wetland to buy those books.

I do miss living in the big city mainly for my children. I know I'm in the boonies when we went trick or treating last year, a woman said jokingly to my hubbie "if we come to your house, will you give us chicken wings?" I don't know what that has anything to do with us being Asian. I think she meant to say "pu pu platter"? So sad but funny at the same time. Got to have humour to combat these idiots I guess.

[KellyH]

Firstly: Mirandola, sweetie. You need to go back and read Julia's archives.

Secondly: Julia, how long and loud did you laugh over Mirandola's comment?

Thirdly: Ayun Holliday had alienated me from EVER reading ANY of her books by using the phrase "Bumblefuck, Idaho." People with her mindset think of any place outside of NYC as "Bumblefuck", and that just pisses me off. We have 56 acres of forest and berries here in SC and I like it just fine.

[colicmommy]

I lived in Boston. Had a kid. Went crazy with lack of space for kid to roam, inconvenience of it all, and fact that we never met any other moms for me to hang out with. Only Nannies.

I said, not for me!

So we moved our butts out to Suburbian Heaven, where I am in love with my minivan, my back yard, my 4 bedroom colonial, my swingset/playstructure, my TWO (2) mom's groups, my little lake with shallow water free of rocks for my kids to play in, the 15 playgrounds within 20 min. of my house, the neighbors who let my older kid wander in to play with their kids without notice (and vice versa), my no-traffic, my Target and Walmart.

Since I don't judge people who stay in the city, I don't know if I want to read a book that sort of implies that unless I'm wandering around with my kid on a crowded beach with half-naked people dressed as mermaids and pirates that I've somehow failed in their upbringing.

Probably won't.

[Catherine]

It must be nice to live in a city where all the freaks are friendly. But methinks Ms. Halliday, in an effort to justify her choices, conveniently forgets all the not-so-friendly parts of living in a city and paints a false sense of perfection. You simply cannot generalize the fun of one day to the daily imperfections of every other day.

And..."the fine veneer of urine covering every New York City surface that's free to the general public."...eeewwwwww! It could be a freakin utopia...but cover it with piss and I think I'll pass, thank you very much.

[marian]

Wow. That was an ambitious book review.

Let me just say that I was raised in NYC. I was steeped in culture and museums and events and ballet and the NY Philharmonic and street fairs and all the rest of it.

What I wanted most is what I have given my son:

A childhood in northern Minnesota, where he can go outside on his own and play in the woods, swim in streams and lakes, be outside playing from dawn til dusk with his buddies without constant adult supervision, using his imagination and his body, and come home tired, rosy-cheeked, exhausted and happy.

I gave him that because I desperately wished for that as a child growing up in NYC. He's grown now and he's pretty grateful for the childhood he's had. He likes to visit big cities, but he says he'd never want to live in one.

[Jean]

I loved this book. I've lived in NYC but now happily reside in a college town. I'm part of a very hippy moms group and have a huge backyard.

[mimi smartypants]

I'll just briefly step in with the opposite view and say that I love raising my child in the city. It's Chicago, which is a much "easier" place than NYC, but the proximity to Indian food and weird tiny grocery stores and so many different kinds of people is priceless to me. I do need my green space, however, and I appreciate Chicago's really good park/playground system way more than I did pre-child.

[Cat, Galloping]

I haven't read the book but it sounds annoying. Honestly, I'm not so anxious to go pick it up.

We live in an old suburb of NY, a city, really, of over 100,000. We moved out here from Brooklyn 3 years ago because 1, we couldn't afford anything decent in the city and 2, I never really relaxed again after Sept. 11. Certainly I had future children in mind as well.

I think Brooklyn would be a lovely place to raise children if I had the money to do it right, to afford private school, etc. It's actually a great place to have a nanny, too, because they can easily go out and about with the baby. However I think in some ways NYC is like skiing, in that it's only great on those days of perfect weather. When it's freezing or broiling or, worse, raining, all that walking and public transport becomes a real PIA. But when the weather is just right? Yeah, I miss it.

What I miss most is the diversity of people. And not the stepping over of crack addicts, but just that there were so many different kinds of people that I always knew I'd find people I liked to hang out with. The options are much more limited out here in the burbs, and the one friend I've made that I really relate to is moving to Detroit in a few weeks. WAHHHH.

[Natalie]

After reading this post I can't help but croon, "Everything is beautiful, in its own wa-ay..."

Seriously, what is with this mommy-guilt phenomenom? Somebody should study it.

Here is hoping for some good numbers this afternoon.

[heather]

You know, it doesn't have to be all or nothing, no matter where you live. I live in the city and drive a big fat gold mini-van, the kind Elvis would have driven if he could have. My kids and I plant vegetables in the community garden, we run through the spinklers at the playground, get pizza and iced cappuccino across the street and ride our bikes though the park. Then when summer is too hot and sticky and the smell of urine gets too thick we escape and head for fresher cooler air and a different kind of life for a while. And if I can't escape by car or plane because money and time are short, I read a book by someone living different life than mine. I live practically down the road from Coney Island but have never been to the Mermaid Parade. Reading about it may be the perfect escape.

[Just Linda]

I live in the suburbs of St. Louis but travel to NYC frequently on business. I watch, with awe, the mommies in the plastic covered strollers, carrying them up and down the subway stairs, babies bundled up in so many layers that it's really just a set of bright eyes and some rosebud lips peeking through and I'm amazed. I don't know how they do it. It looks like entirely too much work to me. I couldn't, I know that. And I read Alice's blog, Finslippy, who has moved from the city to the 'burbs and I hear her occasional lament about the move and then I realize that the work - the extra work has its own offset and, well, ultimately, we all need to find that place that feeds our soul and call it home.

[Just Linda]

Um, the mommies are not IN the plastic covered strollers. Well, most of them aren't. The children are in them and the mommies are pushing, carrying, and maneuvering them.

Just needed to clarify... I swear, I'm not a total idiot. Just a fast typist with a brain that runs just a milisecond behind...

[Trish]

We live in a big city. A big hot city full of gambling fools- if you go out to the illustrious Strip, that is. What I would GIVE for a hometown like you are raising Patrick in! Although Halliday's descriptions are intriguing, I wouldn't want to pay the price to LIVE in her town.

[Denise]

I think that the city would be the best place for my husband and me to raise our children. We're not multi-millionaires, though, and I'm not willing to make the sacrifices I would need to make to move to NY (we looked at it seriously when my husband was offered a job there). We've thought about moving back to Chicago, but I lack the energy to move again. We're in a tiny city, which is more of a small tourist town, and I've gotten over the fact that I'm not living out every single one of my dreams. You've got to aspire to something, and I'm saving finishing my Ph.D. and moving back to the city for retirement.

[Katy]

I read this book a while back and I really liked it. It was funny, and different--definitely along the lines of reading adventure travel. I don't live in NYC and don't want to; but I did not feel like Ayun was "haughtily" judging me for that. Part of what I liked about the book was that she didn't take herself too seriously--that she acknowledged that motherhood can be boring, that she is not perfect, that there is no perfect way to parent, or to live. It was refreshing. I did not get a sense of "mommy guilt" from the book--but I did get some laughs.

[bri]

I live in The City - The Best City - The Only City (in the US, that is - we would gladly go for Paris or London). I would never raise a child anywhere else. I think all that loading of a baby into and out of cars looks like a ridiculously mundane and inane form of torture. I think your cities/towns/suburbs/rural hamlets are strange and bizarre and often closed minded and scary (I'm not saying any of you in particular are - just that many, many places are). I would pay even more, far more, than the crazy amounts we pay to live here. It is worth every penny. But thanks, all, for not wanting to live here - it would only be pricier if you did.

[Robin]

Absolutely one of my favorite authors. I've no children of my own, and I doubt I ever will. I've spent my entire life repeating over and over, to anyone who will listen, that I'll never reproduce. The only time I feel a twinge of regret, or possibly want to change my mind, is when reading Ayun Halliday's books. Then I am insanely jealous, wanting to sell my housefull of junk, pack what I can fit in my car, head off to NYC and have me a few kids of my own. What an amazingly ambitious woman and mother.

I guarantee she doesn't try to alienate her readers by referring to Bumblefuck, Idaho - its just an expression. The city is not for everyone, that much is true, but raising children ANYWHERE can be difficult. Find the common ground, people. It's there.

Ayun, another amazing book. Your children are lucky to have such a talented and interesting mother.

[becky]

Well, all I can say is "whew! It WASN'T just me!" I read the Big Rumpus a few weeks ago, and I really liked it. I tore through that thing in a couple of days, and thought it was really neat.

And yet...and yet, I kept feeling uneasy about my own choices while reading it. I don't really blame Ayun Halliday for that, she obviously didn't write the book to say "Aha! Becky in the Midwest, your choices are wrong!" No, she was writing about HER choices, and I recognize that.

The part that got me was when she was talking about two income families, and "working" (outside the home) mothers. I felt as if she was tarring all working mothers with the selfish brush, and it really rankled. Are stay at home mothers (and fathers! sheesh, what about the dads?!) awesome? Yes, absolutely. But are working outside the home mothers in double-income families just looking for that extra income to buy trinkets and fabulous vacations? That's a slippery slope. I know for me, the big vacation I'm going on is out west for a dear friend's wedding. I do, however, appreciate the income that is going into the kiddo's college fund. I do appreciate the awesome health insurance that ensures he gets great care.

Argh. See? I must be insecure about my choices on some level, I just turned this comment into a justification of my choice to work. Not my intention! I just wish that differences didn't have to turn into polarizations, I guess.

i'm rambling. Off the internet, onto coffee.

[Kizz]

When Halliday speaks of the freak show on Coney Island I must chime in. Come see! And bring your kids. The nice emcee helps you to gauge when you need to leave (and return!) to miss the lady with the albino boa constrictor and my 4 year old friend and I have fallen just a little bit in love with the heavily tatooed and pierced fire eater. It's just people like us getting paid to fly their freak flag twelve shows a day and I defy you not to get a little thrill when she spits flames 12 feet in front of her then smiles and gives you a hug. I get a little thrill driving to the mall in the town of my childhood, too, but I couldn't go back there to live. And maybe you couldn't live here but it's a great place to experience, especially Halliday's way.

[Kaethe]

I haven't read the book, but I'm sure I will. I've been looking forward to it.

I live in a small town that is becoming a bedroom community to other, larger towns. We have two kids, a big backyard, and there's a slow-moving, wadeable river right over there. But, there aren't many kids in the neighborhood, and although we're only two blocks from the heart of town, it isn't a safe walk along the highway.

We sort of kind of made a decision without making a decision about where to live. I like cities, the Spouse likes the country, what are you going to do?

It is hard easy rewarding annoying. that's actually a pretty good definition of being human.

Oh, I breastfed each kid for let's say 18 months each. And if I were pinned, I'd ask for a Winston Light.

[Miz S]

There's so many lovely places to live. They all have their charms and their drawbacks, don't they? I live in the DC suburbs and we raised our girls here happily, and I love it most of the time. But I often fantasized about moving to the country. Nowadays I fantasize about buying a funky rowhouse in Baltimore (which is an awesome, cool city). But with 2 sets of aging parents within 15 minutes of my house, we're staying put.

Eagerly anticipating your update today, Julia. xo

[chris]

I'm always amazed by the smugness of New Yorkers who seem to believe that the rest of the world is suffering because they don't live there. The other day I was watching one of those real estate shows, this one focusing on New York City. And at one point the realtor said "This is New York. Everyone should want to live here." And then she teetered off with her wobbly high heels, tripping over a sidewalk littered with trash. And I thought, hmmm, everyone indeed.

Thanks, but no thanks.

[Erin]

I grew up north of NYC and went there frequently enough to know that it was a nice place to visit but I'd rather live (and raise children) in a place where everyone on our street knew all the kids, where we would all play outside, unsupervised, in the middle of the street until dinnertime and then back out afterwards until dark. Where, if I did something wrong at a friend's house, their parents felt no qualm in punishing me for it (OK, as a kid I could have skipped that part) and never did anyone worry about whether it would damage my psyche or anything.

We live in a suburb of Atlanta and I love it. I pretty much decided we were moving here as soon as we turned onto the street and there were kids playing and riding bikes! We know nearly all of the people on our street well enough to stop and chat. I wave at people while jogging in my neighborhood, and they all smile and wave back. We have a stream running through our wooded lot. There are lots of kids P's age for him to play with. We even bake for new neighbors and bring dinners to new parents.

No offense to the author, but I have no desire whatsoever to live in NYC. I think that we're giving P a much better life by not raising him in a place where he can play without fear.

[Marsha]

We're living on a 76 acre farm outside of Philadelphia (not *that* far outside, we're still considered "suburban") but I've been using my best new urbanist arguments to get my husband to agree to move to a nearby town and be withing walking distance of its funky restaurants, coffee shops, variety stores (yes! they still exist), parks and so forth. I figure that with oil prices rising and rising and rising, I'd rather live in a community with stuff near by than be so isolated. So far, these arguments are falling on non-interested ears. But then, he's not the one hanging out with the farmer's cows all day, is he?

[corey]

How weird for the main point of conversation about this book to be about whether or not we should live in NYC. I really don't think that Ayun was suggesting anything of this sort. I think she wrote about why she loves her life there.

There are wonderful reasons to live in all sorts of different places and saying them does not negate the positive things in other places.

This is a really great book. There is so much more to it than what this conversation would imply. Ayun's love letter to her son is one of the best things I've read. The cartoons and stories are funny and relatable.

I might not ask to breastfeed my child if I were pinned under a train but I would hardly think badly of someone who would. And I would not think she wrote that to one-up me into feeling like I did not enjoy b/f'ing sufficently.

[Nancy]

DK and I talk about this topic a lot -- neither one of us grew up here, but we love New York for us now. But when we have a baby? On the one hand, I love that NYC has such an emphasis on walking or subwaying or busing because I imagine what all those sights and smells and sounds are like for a baby. When my nephew (4) and neice (8 mo) visted over Easter, it was paradise. The Natural History Musuem and Central Park and Conner rushing around pointing at the buildings and people exclaiming, "honk! bus! taxi! fire engine! honk!"

But I love to visit them in their rural community outside of Philie because they have a YARD and TREES and a fearlessness about their surroundings that I remember myself growing up -- the idea that it was YOUR neighborhood to explore without untold dangers lurking around (or crack addicts or urine coated sidewalks or garbage stench on Saturday mornings).

We've half decided that we'd definitely have a baby in NYC, but maybe not stay here permanently (which opens up a whole other kettle of fish). I hate seeing the ennui-filled 13 year old girls walking around here on their cell phones, so bored, so over it. And as a girl from Kansas, my great horror would be to have a child who couldn't appreciate another life, another place. My roommate in college was living proof of that classic New Yorker cartoon; even San Francisco was "ok, but it's not New York."

So we're torn. Maybe it's the balance? Is that a cop out? I want my future kids to get to see all the teaming, exciting, dirty, shiny parts of city life, but also get to play on their swingset and build forts outside and catch fireflies at dusk. No matter where we end up, I guess, I want to try to show both, sans chip on my shoulder.

[Scheherazade]

So, I have nothing to contribute to the discussion about the book (no kids of my own and I grew up in a developing country anyway so had a backyard and an SUV to be bundled in and out of but lived in a city of 14million people) but I am hating the time difference because I want to know what the results are. And I want to know now!

[Julia S]

I am a nervous wreck over here. Seriously. I never fully appreciated how difficult it must be to be the White House Press Secretary. Ayun Halliday believes stem cell research is murder! No wait! Um, not MURDER, uh, scratch that...

And MAN you guys are feeling a little saucy this morning, aren't you? I like it when we get all spirited but cut Ayun some slack, huh? I am feeling horribly guilty for being the worst PR person in the history of all time, ever. She is a just a free-wheeling, pro-attachment parenting New Yorker who wrote a funny book about it. It's not her fault I go to Target a lot and have fond memories of my epidural.

And Corey I hope you are happy that you just made me CRY. I am sorry that you think what I chose to use a discussion point is stupid but it was the best I could do and Patrick kept SHRIEKING at me and I tried very very hard... now I am all sniffly again.

[beaver girl]

what an odd comment for corey to make. don't let it get to you - please! you can write about whatever you want and i think you did so very intelligently. she asked you to discuss the book - and you did.

now, have you considered ivf with pgd? bad joke.

[margalit]

I think I live in the best of both worlds. I live 6 miles outside of Boston City Hall, in a very old streetcar suburb. But I also live on 2 acres of land with a large barn, rolling lawns, and a huge area for gardening, plus woods and a hill large enough for great winter sledding. In the winter we can make an ice rink in our back yard.

But I also live within EASY walking distance to a Marshalls, Filenes Basement, many restaurants, a McDonalds, 2 Dunkin Donuts, one of the best bookstores in the country, 2 store 24s, a brand new chic mall that's about to open, and many many other small stores. We also live on a busline and the subway is several blocks away, and it takes us right into the city.

My kids, who are teenagers, walk everywhere or take the subway and busses. We live near a JCC and not that far from the Y and the Boys and Girls club. We also live close to a city-run Teen Center that has a lot to do and is a fun place to hang out. My city is comprised of 13 villages, and our village is about 1/4 mile up the road. We've got 2 whole foods, 2 trader joes, and 2 regular markets. Target is in the next town over. Walmart is not close, but that's fine with me.

My burb has concerts in the town centre all summer long. We live in a very diverse city, so the concerts represent that diversity. We have 2 farmer's markets and a city-owned organic farm.

And did I mention we're 6 miles from downtown Boston?

[Katerina]

Oh, Julia, please don't cry. I think you did a lovely job of the book review, it was honest and informative.
I thought you did a great job of showing that Ayun was saying that what she liked about New York was X, while you thought Y was great about rural life. The photo of Patrick with his bubbles in contrast to the Mermaid Parade was an interesting comparison and illustrated your point well.

[Ariella]

I just moved from "the city" to Madison, WI, and it has been a really BIG change. I'm not sure what I think about it yet. I can see why a lot of New Yorkers have that attitude, but it really grates on me. Madison is called the Berkeley of the Midwest which is a little weird (uhhh... couldn't it just be a liberal center instead of being equated with Berkeley?) and I love the liberal politics. But I don't love the almost-but-not-great Chinese food.

I guess we all make our choices and live with them.

[Sarah]

I think the topic was interesting. Re-reading Corey's comment, I don't think s/he meant necessarily that *your* discussion point was odd, but maybe how all of us commenters latched onto the city/no city discussion quite so passionately. Maybe.

I'm with you, Julie...I live in the suburbs (always have, although in different countries) and I do feel like I have to almost be a bit ashamed of it, as if I'm not cool enough. I have more to say about it but not enough brain power at the moment to do it justice.

And for what it's worth, I love everything you write and visit daily for updates, as do most, I imagine.

[Leslie]

I want to live at Margalit's house...

[Elizabeth]

Who cares where anyone else lives as long as we are all happy? Having moved 15 times in 17 years of marriage, having lived all over the world in apartments and farmhouses, in cities,in Bumblefuck and yes in Idaho; the one thing I have learned is miserable people are miserable wherever they are and happy people are happy wherever they are. Find where you are happy, even those of you who don't agree with anything Ayun has to say have to admit she had done that. Then go there and raise your children and live your life in the way you see fit and just stop judging people who don't want what you want. Do you really think the message of "The Big Rumpus" was that we should all live in NY? Just think what competition this would create for Ayun in the rental property market! Keep your head held high Ayun! There are plenty of mama's out here supporting you!
Elizabeth in England

[corey]

I do apologize for making you cry, that wasn't my intention at all.

I think you did a great job with the interview. You honesty should be commended and it also made the piece very interesting.

I was commenting, as Ariella suspected, about the discussion taking place in the comments section. There were quite a few people who left comments with their feathers ruffled by Ayun. That was what I was refering to, which I should have made myself more clear.

Again I apoligize for any hurt feelings.

[corey]

Leslie says things I think in ways that do not make people cry. I think I should take notes. Thanks Leslie!