to move, or not to move

Sometimes I just want to run away from here, from Brooklyn, from crowded, dirty, urban life. Don't get me wrong -- Brooklyn is a thrilling and unique place to live, and I've enjoyed myself here, but it's also a physically and mentally exhausting place to live and the last four years are really starting to wear on me. I don't have what it takes, let alone the desire, to stay here forever. But for a variety of reasons, including Blake's job, his calling as bishop, and the fear of losing all we've gained in IEP services for Garrett if we crossed state lines prematurely, we can't leave just yet.

We can't leave, but perhaps we could make our situation here a little more comfortable. Our lease is up at the end of July, and the question of finding a new apartment in the neighborhood has been debated back and forth for the last several months. A place with more space, more accessible laundry facilities, fewer stairs or maybe even an elevator would not be unwelcome, especially after a winter as hard as the one we just finished, as well as last month's encounter with mice.

But lately the pull to stay put has been particularly strong. For one, despite all of its quirks and flaws (including the mice, which, thankfully, we've had no sign of since the exterminator's visit), we really do love our apartment as well as where it's located. We've looked semi-seriously at potential new apartments but I find that, in a city filled with ancient (or at least pre-war) apartments with odd layouts, signs of roach infestations, and penny-pinching landlords, that is a rather depressing endeavor. There is just so little available that 1) meet our basic needs and standards, and 2) are priced at something we can afford.

Our current landlord, assuming that we'd absolutely want to leave after the mice incident, offered, in an effort to entice us to stay, to renew our lease with no increase in rent. For the space we have, we're already getting a steal, so that's a proposition that's hard to pass up. Also, when you calculate the costs of moving, even just within the neighborhood, it gets pretty expensive pretty fast (think increased rent, security deposit, the fees for a real estate broker, a moving truck, and the inevitable expenses of getting settled into a new place, which, though small, add up quickly). Why move if the space and amenities you'd acquire do not justify the cost of doing so?

And then, acting as the cherry on top, there is a new laundromat going in right around the corner -- a distance that would be fairly similar to hauling our loads down to a basement laundry were we to live in a larger building, minus the elevator, and which would sure beat our current distance of three blocks.

Our current space is small, but, should it become necessary, we could fit another person here. Or at least sleep another person. How comfortable we'd all be is debatable, but you do what you have to I guess.

So to move, or not to move? That is the question.

Or, it was the question. The decision has since been made. And by now you can probably guess what our choice was.

We're not going anywhere, at least not yet.

Because it would be a fraction of the cost of moving, and because for my sake it desperately needed to be done, we've begun the process of making our current apartment more comfortable and, well, liveable. On Friday we made a big trip to Ikea, and we spent Saturday assembling and arranging new furniture (the Hemnes line for the livingroom, and Trofast in the boy's room) to replace old pieces we'd outgrown. Aside from a recurring Ikea-induced headache and a few furniture-related bruises (yeah, I'm the one who helped Blake get all the new stuff up and the old stuff down two flights of narrow stairs), things are coming together nicely. We're not finished yet (a real piano stand to replace the free x-stand that came with our purchase is on its way, pictures have not yet been rearranged on the walls, and we've got our eye on a small desk for our bedroom), but I'm already loving the way everything is taking shape. It's nice to finally be able to follow the adage "a place for everything, everything in its place." Perhaps when things are a little more put together, I'll post some pictures.


To move, or not to move, that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler to save a little money
And suck up the inconveniences of living in
A place we really are kind of fond of,
Or to take arms against the whole situation
And get the heck out of Dodge. To think, to sleep on it,
To debate the issue some more. Ay, there's the rub:
For in that sleep what dreams may come,
Of when we've shuffled off this urban life,
Must give us pause...


Sigh. Someday I will get to raise my family in the suburbs (and I will totally ROCK this motherhood gig when I do), but for now it'll be this little apartment in Brooklyn. And, for now anyway, I am okay with that.