Moxie

Since everyone's writing one

You're coming to New York City! We're excited that you'll be here. New Yorkers love visitors.

You should feel free to wear whatever you want to wear and do whatever you want to do, but just in case you want to act like a New Yorker while you're here, I've made a list of tips:

1. Don't wear capri pants with sneakers and socks. Nothing will tip us all off that you're not a New Yorker faster than colorful capri pants with white socks and sneakers. We're not so big on capri pants in general here, but if we wear them they're probably tight and black, and we wear them with flip-flops, gladiator sandals*, low-top Converse, or heels. We're also not really into shorts, but they're not the big flag that capris are.

Three looks this summer that almost every New Yorker rocks:

• Skinny jeans (on any and all body types, honey) with a flowy tank top and flip-flops or gladiator sandals or flats.
• A-line skirt with fitted tank or t-shirt on top, and flats, sandals, flip-flops, or low-tops.
• Jersey-knit v-neck empire-waist dress, with a camisole underneath or not. Flip-flops, flats, or heeled sandals as footwear, but no one will notice because they'll be looking at your cleavage.

2. Get breakfast at a bodega. The classic NYC breakfast is 2 eggs, cheese, and bacon on a roll: bacon-egg-and-cheese-on-a-roll. Get this with a cup of coffee, in the blue "We are happy to serve you" cup if you want hot coffee, or iced coffee. There are two sizes: small and large. You can get milk, skim milk, or half-and-half in your coffee, and sugar, nutrisweet, or splenda. No whip. Nothing fancy. This coffee is not a luxiurious escape--it's something to wash the cheese and bacon out of your arteries so you don't die before lunch.

3. Ask for directions. New Yorkers ask each other for directions all the time, for realz. Think about how big this city is--if you're out of your neighborhood, you probably don't know exactly where you're going, so just ask. Sometimes all you need to know is "which way is uptown?" Sometimes you're in the subway and have to figure out how to get from one boro to another. The only thing to know is that you should probably ask two, or maybe even three, different people for directions because New Yorkers can be totally full of shit and want to look smart by giving directions but not really know.

3a. Walk on the side of the sidewalk. Not directly in the middle, three abreast. The reason we're always rushing is that we need to get somewhere: a job interview, to pick our kids up from school, to meet someone for lunch. We love having you here, but we will cut you if you block our way for no reason in the middle of the sidewalk.

4. Take the subway. Everyone does. As long as you're not on the subway system at 3 am, you'll be ok. If you go too far, get off, turn around and go back.

5. Eat from street vendors. We all do. I'm not such a fan of hot dog carts, but I adore the halal chicken stands (white-sauce-no-hot-sauce) and pretzels and gourmet Cal-Mex and dosas and dessert carts and Delicioso Coco Helado.

6. Talk like us:

• Houston Street is pronounced HOWston, not like the city in Texas.
• When you're standing behind someone, waiting, you're "on line," not "in line."
• A convenience store is a deli or a bodega. (Unless it's 7-Eleven on 23rd Street, in which case it's 7-Eleven.)
• It's the subway. The metro is in Washington, DC or in Paris.

7. Know the difference between friend and foe, public vs. private. All New Yorkers develop the Don't Fuck With Me Face that we wear around the city. If you stop on the sidewalk in front of us, or stand at the bottom of the subway stairs, or obstruct our progress in our daily lives, we will kill you with a glance. But it's all just a protective forcefield for when we're out in public, and we're actually kind and caring people. Ask us for directions or our opinions about the best whatever, and we'll map out six ways for you to go and tell you where to get the best deal, and we'll probably figure out that we know someone in common, too. We're helpful. Just don't expect casual friendliness, because that we don't do.


And now some things you really shouldn't do:

1. Please please don't go buy knockoff handbags on Canal Street. The knockoff bags fund mafia actvities including sweatshops (located in the buildings right above where you buy the bags--terrified immigrants who are forced to work 16 hours a day with no bathroom breaks, so have constant UTIs or urine running down their legs, and develop lung diseases from inhaling fumes all day) and human trafficking. Every bag you buy on Canal Street puts someone else's child into sex slavery.

Instead, buy an awesome laptop sleeve from Hello Rewind, an organization that employs former sex slaves in NYC. And if you want a purse, buy one from one of the super-cute boutiques in Nolita, or order one from a WAHM from Etsy.com. Or just use the same bag you brought with you!

2. Don't take a horsedrawn carriage ride in Central Park. It's really not cool that the horses stand out there in all kinds of extreme weather (we've had 20 days over 90 degrees here so far this summer) and are forced to walk in and amongst traffic. Not to mention that the rides are vastly overpriced.

Instead, take a ride in a pedicab. Environmentally awesome, fun, and the pedicab drivers can tell you all kinds of dirt on the city while they're pedaling you around.

3. Don't go to the Statue of Liberty. The line to get on the ferry is long, the ferry is bumpy, and the line to climb is horrendous, and then you're so close you can't really even see the statue well. And it's overpriced.

Instead, take the Staten Island commuter ferry. It's free, and you'll be on the ferry with a mix of tourists and commuters, and you get an awesome view of lower Manhattan as you leave. If you have kids with you, hop a bus in Staten Island to the Staten Island Children's Museum (about 10 minutes' ride from the ferry terminal). If not, walk through the terminal and get on the next ferry back to Manhattan. Use the time and money you saved by taking the SI Ferry instead of going to the Statue of Liberty to go see the Empire State Building (which really is worth it).

4. Don't eat at a chain restaurant. There are 5,000 really stellar meals to be had here, at all different price points. Don't waste a meal slot on someplace you could go to at home.

Instead, look at Yelp.com or ask the people on the subway with you where the best burger/pizza/falafel/Belgian waffle/etc. is and pick one of those places.

Have a great time while you're here. We are happy to serve you.

* I loathe gladiator sandals, and wish they'd just die a quiet death, but they're still in style here, so if you have them already, bring them to NYC with you.

We must, indeed, all suck together, or assuredly we shall all suck separately

It's been a long time since I really, really thought about breastfeeding.

I breastfed both of my kids, for longer than the US norm is, and I'm glad that I could. It was one (well, two) of the most simultaneously fulfilling and irritating experiences I can imagine.

But I don't think about it much anymore, because my kids are long past that stage. I'm too worried about getting into Kindergarten and balancing work trips with my custody schedule for the kids and mindfucking the emotional fallout for my kids of my getting divorced and researching karate classes and helping them navigate elementary school friendships.

The only time how I fed my babies comes up in my life (when I'm not answering a question on Ask Moxie about it) anymore is when I'm sitting around talking and drinking with other moms. At some point the conversation will turn to how *big* the kids are now and how we can't believe it. And then we'll tell baby stories. Sometimes they include stories of how we fed our kids, especially if the story is horrifying, like answering the door with the flaps of a nursing bra down, or having a mother-in-law mix up a whole days' worth of pricey formula and leave it out of the fridge to go bad, not knowing. But it's just part of The Lore of Motherhood, and we commiserate and roll our eyes at each other, the way our mothers still do with their friends.

So it shocks me again, the way it did when I was pregnant and complete strangers would ask me if I planned to nurse, that people are still so tied up in knots about nursing a baby. It is a completely normal function of the female body, and no one should bat an eye at a woman doing it. But, at the same time, sometimes it doesn't work out for a gazillion reasons that are not my business and in those cases thank God, THANK GOD for formula.

But here's the thing: Once you're done nursing or formula feeding, it's not in your life every day anymore. How it worked or didn't for you is history. It probably still has some emotional resonance, but it's not consuming you like it did. Which means that the people for whom nursing or not nursing is important and vital and heartbreaking are the very people who have the least time, energy, and bandwidth to advocate for themselves. So those of us with kids old enough to make their own sandwiches are the ones who really need to be taking up this fight.

The fight I'm talking about is normalizing feeding babies. By the breast or by the bottle. Creating a society in which the culture supports women feeding their babies in any location babies are allowed to be, without shame or fear of reproach. Where women are not asked to justify their feeding methods or told to cover themselves up. Where we're honest about breastmilk being the best food for babies, and where we don't use duplicitous methods to sell formula. Where women get accurate information about breastfeeding and formula feeding and are allowed to make the choice (if they have one) that's best for their families and then supported, no matter what that decision is. Where we as a culture talk routinely about breastfeeding issues without shaming women, those who breastfeed and those who don't. Where we actually have legislation that allows women to spend enough time to establish breastfeeding and then guarantees that they can pump in the workplace to maintain breastfeeding for as long as they want to.

What if we all became lactivists, advocating for more legal protections and support structures for breastfeeding? And what if, at the same time, we became advocates for mothers who feed formula? What if we all started showing a little more cleavage, because breasts are multi-purpose?

I have a dream in which a woman nursing her baby and a woman feeding her baby formula and a woman who just likes to show off her knockers in low-cut tops can all sit in the same booth at the same restaurant and compliment each others' shoes while they eat. And the old-school, Flo-like server will walk up and ask them how everything is and tell them how cute the babies are with no subtext. And the old guys at the next booth won't even pay attention to any of it. That is my dream.

Won't you help me make it a reality? If we all join together, we can make things better for every mother of a babe in arms.

1. When you see a mother with a baby, say, "Wow--your baby looks so healthy and happy! You must be doing a great job!"

2. If you're a breastfeeding mom, and you have a choice about where to feed, sit down next to a mom feeding a baby from a bottle, and start a conversation about something not related to feeding.

3. Don't hide your breasts when you feed your kid, whether you're nursing or using a bottle. Be as discreet as you personally want to be, but don't cover up just because someone told you you should.

4. If you're out in public and you see a woman feeding a baby, give her a smile. And a piece of chocolate, if you have one.

5. Defend and protect. If you see a feeding mom being harassed in any way, step in the way you would if you saw big kids picking on little kids at the playground.

6. Talk about feeding babies with your kids, so they grow up knowing that babies need to be fed and that you fed your children and they'll feed their own kids. The circle of life.

If those of us who have more emotional bandwidth to think about the long-term effects on us of how society treated us while we fed our kids can be very specific in fighting back, this insane fuck-you to moms who feed their babies will finally end.

Then all we'll have is the fight for legislation protecting nursing, allowing for decent maternity leave, and protecting pumping time in the workplace.

No particular place to go

I am on the third day of a whole three days with my boys. The whole holiday weekend, with no plans. No work to do (aside from housework), nowhere to be (except for church on Sunday morning).

It's been really nice. I basically let them set the agenda, so we've watched our favorite movie (The Fantastic Mr. Fox) another couple of times, and had yet another time-sucking mishap on the subway on the way down to church, and have made some curtains and brownies, and talked about kombucha and checked on the (frankly terrifying) progress of the kombucha I'm making.

But. I feel kind of trapped here, with no outside space that isn't the public park. And once again I wish I had a car.

I could have rented one, I suppose, to get out of the city overnight or even for the day. But we're going to visit my brother and sister at the end of the week, and I'm renting a car for that, so twice in once week is financially excessive. (Especially since I'm still paying off the lifesaving catheter procedure for Alex the cat.)

I hear people say all the time "I'm so glad I don't have a car," but I'll never be there. I think being raised in the Midwest, where we just hopped in the car and went wherever we wanted, has spoiled me for living anyplace I'm beholden to public transportation.

I know I'm supposed to like the work trips I take that don't require renting a car, but secretly I adore having a car, even for a day or two or three and being able to control when and how I go, and where I park, and the detours I can take and what I bring with me.

And now I'm signing off, so we can pay the Cars driving game on the Wii.