I love Zamalek. With all my heart, I love my little island city. It’s everything I want it to be. I’ve enjoyed every chaotic hectic second of the past 5 years here and I never want to leave.
Unfortunately, one of the many things you discover once the nurses hand you your own human, is that it doesn’t matter what you want. The rude awakening is that it’s now all about what’s best. What’s best for your family… your marriage… your future.
And, as it breaks my heart to type these words, Zamalek is no longer the best place for my family. Suburbia has been calling and it is time to finally accept it.
Rather than maneuvering my double Maclaren through cars and obstacle course sidewalks to get to the club, I will simply open my back door. Instead of familiar faces lining up the playground, I will now actually have to make plans to see people (shudder).
My home will no longer be the pre-party/wedding/dinner/outing spot, but the destination itself. It’s time for me to wear my big girl clothes and become an adult. The city is no longer mine to discover and love, but it will become a place I visit. Maybe then I’ll begin to complain about the lack of parking since I can no longer walk everywhere?
And as depressing as I may have made this sound, I’m glad. I’m actually looking forward to having the space. Maybe now when friends come over they wont have to whisper because the littles are asleep. Maybe now people won’t have to walk through my bedroom to get to the balcony to smoke a cigarette. Ahh the good life.
It’s a bittersweet move. But it’s the best for my family. And it definitely helps that as I write this, L Boogie is in her poker visor, crocs, and Hello Kitty bag demanding I take her to our new house pronto.