I got back from New York late on Tuesday night. I was not ready to come home. Don't get me wrong, I love the hugs and kisses and giggles and loves, but I really was not ready for the laundry, cleaning, meal planning, and tantruming that comes with being home.
There is something about that city that just speaks to me. Maybe it's just my small town Midwestern roots in awe by the sparkles of big city life, but New York pulls me in and leaves me desperate to move our family into the heart of Manhattan. Of course, my sister is there and calls the city home, which certainly can't hurt that tug in my heart.
I know she feels bad that we didn't "do" more, but to me the visit was perfect. There was walking around the city (even in the freezing winds), a little bit of shopping (jewelry), a lot of good food eating (the best Malai Kofta I've ever had), and plenty of time to chat and joke around and watch a few good shows together. It was the first time I got a chance to spend extended time with both her and her husband, which was especially nice considering they've been together for over seven years.
It is strange for me to think about how my sister's every day reality is so different from my own. The walking versus driving, the neighbors upstairs and downstairs versus the ones next door, the twenty-four hour noise, the views from a high rise apartment, the groceries delivered to the front door. Just a sample of how different our lives are twelve hundred miles apart.
But I suppose that is part of the fun then, of those times that we get to visit each other. Now I want to plan a big girls weekend in New York. Time to start saving my pennies for a few flights to La Guardia.
A big Thank You to my sister and her husband for hosting me. And another big Thank You to my parents who got me the free ticket.