This is the bus I used to take to work in the mornings.
Now my job is taking care of HER, and I am so glad!!
When Jady and I started dating 6 years ago, I would never have imagined that we'd be raising our first child in NYC.
I think some people have the impression that we are constantly shielding Rosie from gang activity or something, but that is not quite the case--thankfully!
A friend recently asked, "What's it like raising a baby in New York?!" to which I mumbled a few things about sidewalks and laundry rooms and mini cribs. But when I think about that question now, I realize how so much of parenting--the nurturing, feeding, holding, playing, kissing, loving--is the same no matter where you are. Rosie might swing in the park instead of a backyard, and ride in a stroller instead of a carseat, and learn to crawl on a floor that's seen the feet of 30 previous tenants, but those are all becoming as normal to her as McDonald's PlayPlaces are to the suburbs.
Now that we've survived the first few months with a newborn, we're learning to swing through this concrete jungle with a little monkey on our back! Having a tiny friend to accompany me on errands and watching her discover the brand new world around her are privileges to thank God for. I love how cozy we are in our apartment here. Rosie is nearly always in my sight no matter which "room" I'm working in. And I love that all we need seems to be just a few blocks away.
On a more serious note, though, one thing that has surprised me about having a baby here is the negative attitude some people have toward children. When Rosie was just a couple months old, we were returning to our apartment and got into the elevator with one of our neighbors--not the friendliest man in the world. Rosie was crying, and I was juggling her and the stroller and my own sanity, and he said, "Oh, I'm just so glad I don't have one of those." What was I to say? We live in the abortion capital of the country, a city obsessed with following its dreams even at the expense of innocent little lives. I tried to smile at him and responded, "She brings us so much joy!" even though I doubt he could possibly understand how a fussing, needy little baby could be someone's definition of joy.
But in laying down our lives each day and picking up our own crosses, we feel a blessed assurance that we are walking where our Savior did. We are aiming to please a Father who has given more to His children than we could ever give to Rosie. What a wonderful example we can look to and learn from--the One who parents us with perfect patience (1 Tim. 1:16) and loves us more than we can comprehend.