Thursday, January 07, 2010

The Peanut Changes Things

It's now been just over a year since the Peanut showed up and upended our time in NYC. There are certainly the big changes of having a baby. You can read about them in one of ten thousand books, blogs and newspaper columns. I'll spare you the stories of my daughter's golden dumps and magic spit-up.

Our neighborhood has not exactly "arrived" yet. There is still an edge to it. The police presence, the pharmacy under the train station that specializes in methadone, the graffiti and the public urination still reflect New York City from another era. Please note, we don't ever feel unsafe, we just haven't had the influx of cash yet that allows cafes, bakeries and boutiques to show up yet.

The Peanut has really changed our overall experience, though. Now when we walk through our neighborhood, people recognize us. Our checkout lady, Zenab, who wears an outfit one piece of cloth shy of a burkah, calls the Peanut "her little friend." The Peanut obliges by giggling and squealing and smiling whenever we are on line at the store.

When our neighbors noticed that Kitty was pregnant, I found out that they started a neighborhood watch of sorts. From their front windows, noted when she went out for her morning run and always made sure that she made it back safely. They also questioned me on a regular basis as to whether or not she would "rattle that baby right out" with all the running.

In the week after Millie was born, the neighbor down the street sent over a dozen roses for Kitty-- the first time we ever really had contact besides some cursory "hellos." The neighbor across the street stopped us as we all left the house to introduce herself to her new neighbor and give a card and a ten dollar bill for the college fund. The guys on the stoop now ask me how that little boy is doing when I walk by in the morning. (The Peanut is a girl and I've reminded them a couple of times and lately she has been sporting a giant pink snowsuit, but I'll take their warm but inaccurate greetings over the cool indifference of the past.)

On a very rushed trip to the grocery store, I was getting ready to grab English muffins and run back home when Zenab cornered me. "I have birthday gift for my friend. Wait here." She returned with a giant gift bag with an toy telephone that talks. I was so touched that I returned to the store ten minutes later to get the English muffins that I had forgotten.

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