Should I stay or should go?
If you say that your are mine
I’ll be here until the end of time
So you got to let me know
Should I stay or should I go?
⁓The Clash
Last week I was about to throw in the towel and declare Joanne Woodward the official winner of the Woodward/Morfoot conundrum. Harry and I went to the doctor’s office three times in five days. Needless to say he was really sick. Watching him cry because his throat hurt made me want to weep. I also wanted to pull my hair out because I was on deadline, had to hand in a portion of my thesis, and needed to prepare for a class that I will help teach at The New School that starts tomorrow. Oh yeah—and Ross had the flu and was getting ready for a two-week shoot in India. Joy!
Although it all worked out in the end, sort of, I felt a tremendous amount of guilt for having to spend any amount of time not taking care of Harry. The pediatrician blames his monthly need for antibiotics, ongoing earaches, and mass amounts of phlegm on New York/ northeastern weather. She informed me that I’ve got “another three months to get through. Maybe four.” That’s when the idea, one that I never thought I’d have and can’t believe I’m admitting to, came to mind: Let’s move to Los Angeles!
Wait! Before you write me off, let me explain. Lugging what feels like an 80-pound stroller up and down subway steps everyday with numb hands is a bitch. Yes, I know about the subway elevators, but have you ever used one? I hope not. They are few and far between and that lovely urine aroma that curiously dwells in each and every one of them isn’t exactly inviting. I would tell Harry to hold his breath like I do, but unfortunately he doesn’t know how to blow his nose, let alone spare himself from the stench. Also, it might be nice to drive to a grocery store as opposed to trying to squeeze 50 pounds worth of overpriced groceries into various compartments of a stroller.
Why LA and not Miami, Atlanta, or Phoenix you ask? Well, Ross is in the film business and I write about that business, so LA makes the most sense. But, while the move might save Harry from colds, fevers, and/or flus every other week, I unfortunately don’t think it would cost any less to live in the City of Angels. We might, however, get more space for our dollar and maybe even a yard for Hare-Bear to play in. If you are wondering why I don’t just move to the suburbs of New York if I’m so eager to ditch the subway for a car, more living space and a yard—I hear you. My only answer to that logical question is that I grew up in one of those suburbs, and I made a solemn vow that I would not return to them.
In 2005, though, when I moved to Manhattan after living in Los Angeles for two years, I also vowed to never again reside in LA. It was not an easy city to adjust to and frankly, I don’t think it compares to New York. But now that I have a kid, I see its benefits. For Harry, Ross and myself, those would be the weather, the beach, the nearby mountains, and the entertainment industry.
In a few months our lease is up, and we will make a choice to stay in our beloved NYC or to leave it. So please New York—give me a sign. If you say that you are mine, I’ll be here until the end of time.
Addie Morfoot is a freelance journalist at Daily Variety and is finishing her MFA in creative writing at The New School. Last year, her world turned upside down when she gave birth to her son Harry. Each Monday, she writes about juggling work, school, marriage, and motherhood in the Big Apple.
