Right from the Tap

I didn’t even really think about the different feeding options when we found out we were having a kid.  I was going to breastfeed.  We made that decision because we think that’s the best thing for the baby (I saw we, but my husband – while pro breastfeeding – has said from the beginning we can do whatever I want.  He knows).  I have no opinion on what other mothers choose to do.  I’ve been BFing for the past 7 weeks, and intend to continue for as long as we can. I can’t imagine why anyone wouldn’t at least give it a shot, but that’s really none of my business (I digress).  The money saving factor didn’t even cross my mind.  It still hasn’t, really, since I have no idea what formula costs – it could be 100 dollars a can or 10 dollars a can, and I wouldn’t know the difference.  In retrospect, realizing we are saving money in that category makes me feel quite justified in the breast feeding support items I’m bought: nursing bras, shirts, nipple cream (its in every room of my house – not an exaggeration), pillows (ladies, the “My Brest Friend” pillow is a game changer), dresses, teas, supplements, cookies – whatever the hell I want.  If I’m going to be carting around a milk bar for the next 6-12 months, you can be damn well sure I’m going to be comfortable while doing it.

I do feel lucky that we are able to breastfeed, though.  I know a lot of people have trouble with it, or can’t actually breastfeed for physical or other reasons.  I think that’s a shame – if they wanted to BF.  If they didn’t want to, or are indifferent about it, that’s a whole separate post.  When I started reading about it, I thought “self, it won’t be that hard, whats all the fuss about?  Its natural!”  and while I didn’t think it would be a walk in the park, but I really didn’t know what to expect when it was time to latch on and get moving.

The first two weeks were NOT easy.  He wasn’t latching well, we were both exhausted and frustrated and he wasn’t gaining weight, so my husband and I were both stressed.  We were talking about pumping and trying a bottle, but I was concerned if he took a bottle he’d NEVER latch properly.  At this point, it would have been so easy to just say “eff this noise” and move onto formula.  Again – this isn’t a bad thing, its just not what I/We wanted to do, so we called a lactation consultant.  Three days and six ounces of weight gain later, she literally saved the day.  And the nipples.

I’m okay with the challenges, setbacks, and sacrifices.  Especially since it started getting easier – everyone said “it sucks in the beginning, but it will get easier!”.  Which is true.  So when we have those rough days, I had to keep reminding myself of that, because man, breastfeeding is work.  And sometimes its painful – like, if your kid isn’t latching properly.  Or if your kid thinks its party time and goes on and off and on and off and on and off the boob, but if you move him or put it away he gets pissed, or if you have a crack in your nipple because your kid didn’t latch properly, because he thought it was play time, and it takes a while to heal (among other things that can happen that I thankfully haven’t experienced – yet).  You also miss out on a lot of things, which is another thing I didn’t think of.  Since you made the decision to be the child’s source of nourishment, you have to be on call for a little drunk midget that occasionally wants to eat every single hour.  You have to prepare ahead of time, and start a stock pile of boob juice in the freezer, so if you want to get your hair cut or have lunch with friends, someone else can give the kid a bottle – and then you have to pump the first chance you get, so you’re not uncomfortable.

By making the decision to exclusively breastfeed (EBF, FYI), we determine what the sacrifices are, and we decide if they are worth the end result.  I’m not going to go through the benefits of BF, that’s all over the internet, so if you’re really interested google it.  Or email me.  If I wasn’t able to BF,  I’d most likely shoot for the pumping route.  Pumping while BFing isn’t the easiest thing, either – there are only so many times a day you can pump.  Between feeding the baby, and then either playing with him or putting him for a nap (aka, waiting for a diaper change and then wearing him, because that’s the easiest/best way he’ll sleep), its hard to get in a good pump…which means here we are, at 345 AM after a night nurse in a hands free pumping bra writing a blog.  Am I mad about that?  Nah, not at all.  Am I tired?   Hell yes!  But the days that are tough are only days, not weeks.  They may feel like an eternity at the time, but #thistooshallpass (I think that’s the new mom mantra?).  Is it easy staying awake to pump while you can hear your husband snoring in the room next to you?  Nah.  Do you want to smother him sometimes when he says he’s tired?  Of course.  Will you?  Nah, probably not.  Why not?

Because it is hard to remember is men don’t really know what goes into breastfeeding (especially when you’re exhausted).  Sure, they can watch, or try and get an idea, but they will never be able to fully understand.  We need to remember that when they say things like: “you seemed pretty cranky before”.  Before clubbing them with the bat you keep next to your bed, remind yourself that they’re most likely feeling helpless because they can’t feed the baby unless you make a bottle for them.  That has to be a difficult thing to do – because they want to help, and they want you to take a break, or get some sleep, but they don’t have the actual tools to do so.  Until science comes up with a way for men to lactate (PLEASE let this happen before our next child), they’re kind of stuck.  And then think of the look on your baby’s face when he’s had a nice, solid meal, plops his head down on your chest and falls asleep – because those moments make the entire journey worth it.  It gives you the opportunity to slow down, and hang out with your baby, sometimes alone (sometimes with with the cat.  Or your husband. Or whoever may be around when you’re nursing), because they aren’t going to be small enough to carry with one arm forever.

 

Crossfit and Child Rearing

The two things don’t seem like they have anything in common, right?

Wrong.

While they are both inherently different – unless you feel like comparing childbirth to the latest WOD (and I wouldn’t suggest doing that to anyone who has recently had a child, because they may tear your head off), there is a direct correlation between “experts” of each topic, and their need to be right.

What I mean is, when talking to someone about a topic on child rearing, if your opinion differs from theirs, you can be just as wrong as you when speaking to someone who does CrossFit and nothing else.  My sister tagged me in this cute little comic the other day that had a baby on it, and it said something like “lets forget the charade and just go to sleep in the same bed now”, making a sweet little gesture to the idea of co-sleeping.  Now, if you have a kid, I’m sure you have your own idea on co-sleeping.  In fact, you may feel very strongly about it.  And you may use your stance to pick online fights with other parents.

Curious how one small picture had so many long threads of comments, I started reading a few.  Rather than comment on the kids cute little curls, or the determined expression on their face, it was comments and comments and comments and comments about co-sleeping vs. non co-sleeping.  What struck me the most was the animosity – parents just fighting with each other over nonsense.  Parents that didn’t believe in co-sleeping would call the parents who did lazy because they didn’t want to have to get up to tend to their child in the middle of the night.  Parents who DID co-sleep would call the parents that didn’t heartless for leaving their little one alone.  No one seemed to have any respect for the other parent’s decision on how to raise their child.

This isn’t something that is only for co-sleeping, either – you see these arguments on breastfeeding vs. not breastfeeding (hey – lets just be glad the kids are eating, regardless of how they get their food, eh?). Cry it out vs. non crying, potty training, sleep training – regardless of what one person may think – there is always going to be someone else to tell them the opposite.  Whatever happened to listening to someone, noting their reason for raising their child however they choose to…and respecting that and moving on?  If I choose to co-sleep with my kid, telling me I’m a lazy mother isn’t going to give me some sort of surprise revelation on how wrong I am.

It reminded me of a conversation I had with a chic about a year ago.  We were in our office and I was carrying my gym bag, when she stopped me.  “Are you going to the gym?”.

Being that I was carrying a gym bag, I thought the answer to be fairly obvious, but this chic isn’t the brightest bulb in the bunch.  We started chatting.  “You really shouldn’t go to the gym, you should go to CrossFit. You know what that is, right?”

Well, I’ve been working out for about 15 years and I’m married to a personal trainer.  But please, enlighten me on what CrossFit is.

“Its so much better than working out at a gym.  I don’t know how you even do that.  I wouldn’t even know where to begin at a gym.  They can make the workouts easier for you, you  know, if you can’t handle the weight they want you to use”

  1. That’s your opinion
  2. Its easy, I put on my sneakers, pick things up that are heavy and put them back down.  Then pick them up again.  Watch a planet fitness commercial, that will clear it up for you
  3. Start at the front door, make your way in.  If you can’t find the front door, remove your head from your behind and try again.
  4. Don’t make me squat you in the middle of this office, ding bat.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some rather controversial conversations to read on FaceBook pertaining to sneaker wearing.  With or without socks.  This is going to be intense.

Babies are A-Holes

And I feel like people already knew this, and didn’t tell you when you were thinking about having a kid.  All these moms I’m friends with (including my own) must have this secret pact not to let you, the prospective mother know so you can go through exactly what they did.

If there are babies out there that don’t have meltdowns, or don’t spend at least one day in the first two weeks incessantly crying for 30 hours straight, I’d like to meet these kids.  They probably belong to those mothers who are doing burpees two days after giving birth and breastfeeding with no hands, while flipping pancakes and wearing one of those 1950’s dresses, donning a full face of makeup and perfectly coiffed hair.  To all of them, I say: beat it.  We don’t have time for that in my house.

In my house, we have a little baby who had gas the other day.  And since neither of us know what the signs are, or how to treat it – this little guy was a miserable little ball of crying and discomfort for a day and a half.  Once we figured out what was wrong with him, and treated it – it was back to being my sweet little baby.

Jekyll and Hyde man, Jekyll and Hyde.  If you were to walk past our house, you may think we were engaging in some form of torture.  Nope, crying newborn!  Yesterday he was a little overstimulated and didn’t nap enough….cue the crying newborn!  The day before that?  I think the dog looked at him funny.  Crying newborn!

So to everyone out there who knew I was going to have a little maniac on my hands, and didn’t tell me before we made him….thank you.  Because now that he’s here, we sure realize that he’s an a-hole, but he’s ours.

And we wouldn’t change it.

But I would love a straight eight hours of sleep.  After a spa day and a nice steak dinner, with a bottle of wine.  I see that in our future.  In about a year.

You’re Mom Now!

Wait, what?  I mean, I know I was pregnant for 39 1/2 long, tiring weeks.  And I sure remember labor (it has that name for a reason), and I even remember meeting my son for the first time (kind of weird).  But now we pack up, put him in that infant car seat (with the help of the nurse…how the hell do we use this thing?) and go home.

Yikes.  Well, we can handle this.  We’ve been listening to people for the last ten months say things like “get your sleep now!” and “you’re going to be tired!” and “eventually you and your husband are going to get on each others nerves!” so we’re prepared.  But here’s the kicker – neither of us has any real, solid experience with newborns.  Babies, in general really.  I have three nephews, but by the time they were coming to stay the night at my place they could wipe their own behind.  And the one time I baby sat them where one of them COULDN’T wipe their own behind, the oldest one would do it for me, for a price.

While I was pregnant I did my best to stay off the internet.  I had a pretty easy pregnancy, with just a couple of bad days and a handful of days where I was less than agreeable.  Towards the end, of course, I hated everyone and everything that I came in contact with.  And every time I looked at my giant, swollen ankles I wanted to cry, but I did NOT want to see what childbirth looked like; I did NOT want to know what it felt like – I figured going in blind was best.  Of course, multiple people wanted to tell me their horror stories (I can tune anyone out.  If you’re telling me something and I’m nodding but barely engaging, I’m not listening to you.  So if you want active conversation change the topic.  If you just want to talk at someone, like a bunch of people I know, please, continue talking).  It worked for us – contractions friggin hurt (anyone who says they don’t, or they feel like bad cramps is lying).  The epidural was a welcome relief, and the rest of the labor was really okay.

It’s what comes after that I wasn’t prepared for.

You still look pregnant.  For a little while, too.  For me, it lasted about two and a half weeks, and now I can’t tell if my uterus is still a little out there, or if I’m just down to the part of the baby weight I have to lose (that doesn’t bother me at all – everyone bitches about how hard it is to lose weight…and it is…but its easier than labor as far as I’m concerned.  Now if only my husband would stop buying the Italian cookies I love so much…).

You’re sore.  And then when you get home, you’re still sore.  That stays for a little while too.  If you had an episiotomy, that’ll hurt too.  So much for going through life without getting stitches.  At the hospital, though, they gave me this spray that is a pain-killer.  Buy more of that.  If they let you, take more of it home from the hospital – its great.

You have all sorts of feelings.  When you’re pregnant, you have all sorts of feelings too, but now its different.  You have all these feelings, your hormones are still wild, your body is still a train wreck, and you have this little, tiny person whose whole world revolves around you.  So, yeah.  Lots of feelings.  If you have these sad feelings, and they don’t go away…talk to someone.  ALSO if you are lucky enough to have new mothers that you’re friends with – start-up some group text chats to complain.  One Hundred Percent got me through the “I Have Gas” meltdown of 2016 (more on that later).

If you choose to breastfeed, it sucks.  Seriously, it sucks.  You’re going to get sore, and at some point you will question your sanity and if it’s all worth it.  There are problems that can come with breastfeeding, that we don’t really need to talk about right now, but there are solutions for each of them.  You may cry.  You may fall asleep breastfeeding and wake yourself up snoring.  You may consider formula every time your little guy wants to eat NOW, even if you just put something in the oven that will most likely burn if you start nursing your slow eating, gluttonous baby.  Talk to a lactation consultant, it literally turned our world around.  I was ready to quit, and we’re sticking with it.  In some weird sense, I can understand why some of these mothers who continue to breastfeed will get on their high horse about it.  It is HARD work, and you want people to acknowledge what you’re doing.  From what I understand, it gets easier (it already has…we don’t need to nurse every two hours.  Thank you, Jesus).

Based on what you choose to do, formula feeding or supplementing may be the way to go – regardless of what other people say, whatever choice you make is the best choice for you and your child (now, for breastfeeding, I will say it is a good way to get out of any visit you want to.  “Sorry!  Time to eat!” quick exit to the nursery with your iPad and you’re good).

We came into this not knowing really how to change a diaper, or swaddle the baby – or even really how to hold him.  We’re not experts, at all (except my husband, he’s the Master Diaper Changer.  He should give classes), but we are learning every day.  And every time we look down at this little meatball that will eventually learn to call us “Mom” and “Dad” (and he better f-ckin say Mom first), or he smiles at us, or wraps his tiny little fingers around my husband sausage fingers, you almost forget all the tough things that you dealt with.  I say “almost” because I am absolutely documenting these things to tell his future girlfriend (provided I approve of her, and she’s not a skank).

Uh oh, heard a little noise from the nursery….time to eat!

Parent Shaming…already?

Parent shaming is a real thing – and its such an interesting topic. Typically, you will hear about “Mommy Shaming”. People like Chrissy Teigen tend to really get the brunt of mommy shaming in the public eye, which is great because she literally gives zero craps about what people say about her – and she is VOCAL about that. Most recently, she was under fire for going to dinner with her husband after their baby was born. SHE was under fire, not her husband, to a point where he even said “I was there too, how come no one is attacking me?” (or something to that affect).

What I find so interesting about “shaming” other parents is the source of the shaming. Last time I checked, the world was not over run with Nobel Peace Prize winners – or even really great people. Kids can range from being really great kids, to self entitled little brats you want to shake some sense into. They all come from various walks of life, and various types of parents. Its not too far off to say the people who are passing judgment, probably are raising assholes. The whole apple not falling too far from the tree and all.

Last weekend we went to a little gathering for my husband’s grandparents, in separate cars so I could leave at my whim and let Dan help his family wrap things up. In the process, his parents neighbors began chatting about the impending little one’s arrival, and the neighbor made a comment about how the baby essentially needs to be quarantined for the first month – or anyone that comes in contact with him will need to get immunized.

Not entirely sure of what she was talking about, Dan asked a little further and she looked at him like he was a raging moron, saying something to the likes of “what do you mean you aren’t going to have everyone immunized before handling your baby?” as if that would result in the immediate demise of our child.

Let me just say – its a good thing it was only Dan there. I have a very specific question when someone passes judgement on our decisions or how we plan on raising our child: Did I ask you for your opinion?

If the answer is NO then maybe you need to mind your own business. If I did ask your opinion, its entirely possible that I may not agree with you. I won’t argue with you about it, but if you attempt to make one of us feel like a lesser person because of it, chances are…we aren’t going to have a productive afternoon.

What happens when you’re pregnant….

So, I’m pregnant.  And I have been for about 38 weeks.  Quite honestly, its been a very easy pregnancy.  I’m one of the lucky ones – my morning sickness was minimal, there haven’t been any complications, I’ve been able to exercise regularly (hell, I went to the gym this morning.  If I can workout at 9 1/2 months pregnant…what is your excuse to skip the gym?  More on that later).

Something I’ve noticed though, throughout the whole process, is people tend to forget what is appropriate and what is not when they see a pregnant woman.  I mean, I’ve heard it second hand before, from expectant mothers, but didn’t really know what they were talking about until….

  1. Complete strangers will either touch you, or ask to touch you.  In what world is that okay?  I was out to dinner with some friends and walking back to our table from the restroom when two older women stopped me and started touching my stomach, asking me all sorts of questions.  Lets start with the obvious – keep your goddamn hands off me unless I know you (and if I know you – ask first).  And really, even then its still weird.
  2. People you don’t really talk to will be so very offended that you didn’t call them when you found out you were pregnant.  Kind of sweet, kind of odd.
  3. People you do talk to all the time – may not be around for a while.  Whatever the reason is behind it, accept it and move on.
  4. People are experts.  On EVERYTHING.  And they are not ashamed or shy to tell you that.  You will get so much unsolicited advice, its amazing.  For the most part, its people that are looking to help you out, or just want to share their experiences, which is really great.  For example, its really nice of someone that has already had their hospital stay to give you hints on what you should bring with you.  On the flip side, its obnoxious and condescending to tell me how I feel, how I should behave, how I should act, and things I’m going to want.  One person told me I was going to want to take a belly shot every month once I started to feel more maternal (what?) and another couple told me I was going to want my husband to take pictures in the delivery room.
    1. he knows better.  That will NOT be documented
  5. You will get judged.  For all sorts of things.  Now, I had no problem not drinking, or skipping out on the sushi dinners that I love so much.  I mean, its only 40 weeks, so in the grand scheme of things, its not really a big deal to not indulge for me – but if other mothers choose to do any of those things, its none of my business.  Or yours.  Unless they’re mainlining heroin or something in front of you.
  6. I think that people don’t always know that pregnancy doesn’t affect a woman’s hearing.  So when you say things like “Wow you’re HUGE” or “You’re just going to get bigger!” or “Look at those feet!”, she will hear it.  And depending on her mood (due to raging hormones), she’s either going to want to tear your face off, sit on you, or cry.  So be a little considerate, maybe.
  7. I mentioned earlier I’ve still been exercising.  And shockingly enough, I either get comments or mean mugged at the gym.  Now, I’ve been exercising fairly regularly for about 12 years, so its not like I found out I was pregnant and decided to take up Olympic Lifting.  I know my body, I listen to my body, and on the days that I didn’t feel well, or wasn’t really up to it…I didn’t go to the gym.  There were/are so many people that think because you’re pregnant, you should be at home, in bed, eating ice cream with your feet up.  While that may be nice for some people, its not in my cards. So back off.
  8. I’m pregnant, not handicapped.  Granted, there are certain things that I shouldn’t/can’t/won’t physically do until after this squatter is evicted from my loins, but peeling a banana is not one of them.

I have to give a lot of credit to my husband.  He’s been quite wonderful through the whole entire pregnancy.  He also gave us sushi (for the most part, sometimes the man needs a treat), and he’s considerate and helpful around the house.  He got the baby his first velour suit.  He put together all the baby furniture and toys and all that stuff, and on the days where I was unbearable…he got me cookies.  If he’s half the father he is husband, this kid is going to be very, very lucky.

Except he’s planning on us having an army of children, and sweet baby Jesus, that is not happening!

Sorry Fellas

The Beefcake asked me to marry him.  And of course, I said yes.  After a romantic “are you f-cking kidding me?” and a “wait, did you ask my parents?”

He did.  And both of them said (separately) “are you sure?  She’s pretty annoying” or “You have to ask her, she hasn’t asked me for permission to do anything since she was 18” (touche).

So, from what I understand, you don’t get to skip from the engagement phase to the being married phase.  You have to plan a wedding.  And while I LOVE planning things – hell…one of my favorite things to do is make lists – it seems quite the large task.  And there are so many options.  Where do you have it?  Do you have it at home, or do you have it at another place?  Do you have a wedding party? If yes, how many people?  And what if you upset someone by not asking them to be in your wedding party?  What if you upset someone by asking them TO be in your wedding party?  How many people do you invite?  What do you wear?  What the hell are we all going to eat?

Now, a lot of people who I’ve spoken to have dropped a few pearls of wisdom:

1. Enjoy being engaged (I like that advice)

2. Elope (I kind of like that advice, takes all the guess-work out of it)

3. It goes by fast (prove it)

Aside from all that, its been so nice to hear all the kind words from my friends and family and coworkers, congratulating us and wishing us well.  Regardless of what we plan for the wedding part, I’m pretty confident it’ll turn out just as wonderful as the past two years have been, if not better.

 

Ain’t no getting rid of me now, pal.

 

 

I need to sit up straight

I need to sit up straight

 

#whyistayed

There has been so much talk the past few weeks about Domestic Violence. This is a good thing, people don’t know nearly enough about the subject, and there are entirely too many people who will comment on Domestic Violence, without fully understanding what they’re talking about.

A lot of this is coming to light after the Ray Rice video was released. Hey, NFL…you guys really shit the bed on the “punishment” you doled out to Good Ole Ray. Even if they HADN’T seen the actual video of a professional, strong, well-built, muscular FOOTBALL player swinging at his fiancée and knocking her out cold – the secondary video of him dragging her halfway out of the lobby then dropping her in the threshold of the elevator should have been enough to realize what happened in the elevator.

I don’t care that she spit at him
I don’t care that they were drunk
I don’t care that they were arguing

There is no scenario where what happened is okay. Its also another slap in the face of domestic violence victims everywhere that he only got a 2 day suspension as his punishment. Its worse to smoke pot than knock your partner out?  Even Ray Lewis doesn’t beat his wife…he just stabs people in bars.  Totally different, give him a Superbowl ring.

A lot of people have been talking about his fiancée staying with him, and later marrying him. I urge you all to search #whyistayed and really learn about what is going on here, then formulate your opinion. I can’t believe we live in a world where its okay to blame the victim. Believe that, she is a victim and a survivor, not a money grubbing hoochie.

oh for the Love of God People

#nonreligiousGodofcourse lest I offend anyone.

I love the internet. I love social media. I love how the different platforms can bring so many people together, and spark unity/outrage/conversation/discussions/growth/knowledge/awareness.

That being said – are you friggin people kidding me? The internet is making ya’ll dumb. Or ignorant – whichever classification you prefer. Guys – not everything you read on the internet is true. I know its unbelievable:

 

"BONJOUR"

“BONJOUR”

 

But its true (see the irony? THIS is on the internet.  SO its TRUE).

It’s very, very easy to believe everything you read.  I know this.  I re read your moronic posts every day – and I’m not talking about all of you – I’m talking about you über conservatives, or you ultra liberals that tap into your own political sites and spew your crap all over the internet.  MY internet.  That I LOVE.  And then – when people disagree with you, or begin to comment on what you’re talking about, you take one of two routes:

1. Insult them

2. Delete their comment

Which, at the end of the day, is fine.  You can do whatever you want on the internet.  I mean, it IS mine…but its also yours.  So go circulate your skewed “intellect” and your bizarre, often unfounded claims.  And ignore people when they try to discuss with you (because if your view isn’t shared, it’s clearly incorrect), but you’re only hurting yourself.  There’s so much knowledge and information, and such great debates to be had.  If the only response you have to someone disagreeing with you is: “your an idiot”…well…
facepalm

 

I rest my case.

Misery Loves Company…

The other day, a friend of mine posted a blog she read entitled “Why I hate Long Island With all my heart and soul”.

yikes. Just the title is a little aggressive. After putting thought to it, I really couldn’t think of anything I hated with “every fiber of my being”, short of people who kick pupppies, but I feel like they’re in a league of their own.

So, I clicked out on the link to check it out (http://geeksjourney.com/why-i-hate-long-island-with-all-my-heart-and-soul) and unfortunately, it seemed as though  the author is bottling a very significant amount of anger and hatred, that he was funneling towards the people of Long Island.  I’m not a therapist, but I have a knack of reading people.  After re-reading his blog and comments a few times, I generally began to feel bad for the guy.

He made several mention to the people who live on Long Island – and its social distortions, or caste system (in a sense).  Yes, there are privileged people on Long Island.  Yes, there are people who suck on Long Island, but there are also a lot of really great, caring people and their families.  Basing an entire theory on not being able to communicate with people, or putting yourself in a self-induced recluse, is only hurting yourself.  In 2012, there were 7.2 million people living on Long Island.  If you can’t find a handful of people in that 7.2 million, I’m going to have to assume the issue is you.

Also touched upon was the cost of living on Long Island, where the author cited rent for a studio apartment starting at 2400$ a month.  What the author failed to mention is that rent reflects the base line cost of LUXURY APARTMENT BUILDINGS.  Of course its more expensive, you half twit.  Why are you looking outside your price range for a living space?  There are a tremendous amount of apartments for rent in various towns of Long Island spanning any range of prices.  You have to determine what you can afford, what you want, and what you need – and then do your homework.

There was no mention of the beautiful beaches on Long Island (http://traveltips.usatoday.com/beautiful-beaches-united-states-100414.html) – and while I know this beach is the affluent East Hampton the blogger shows such contempt for – there are several other scenic beaches on the south shore you can wander with your friends, enjoy the water, make sand castles, eat seafood…whatever floats your boat.

If you’re not into that, you can always check out the vast farming and gardens on Long Island.  Don’t like that?  Try some of the vineyards and breweries.  Not your speed?  Check out the villages and towns of Babylon, Huntington, Sea Cliff, Roslyn, Great Neck.  Hate wealthy people?  Cmon down to Long Beach and experience the beach town feel (if you come down here with a puss and act like a dick, though, we WILL tell you).  Hate the beach?  Span any of the 118 miles that stretch across the Island.  Want to play with Hipsters?  go to Brooklyn…you dont have to cross a bridge.  Want a culinary experience?  Head into flushing.  Want to wander one of the most influential cities in the world?  Head into NY.  Can’t afford it? Still hate it?  Move.

Long Island is a suburb of Manhattan.  A lot of the people living on the Island work in the City and commute.  No one likes commuting, but its a part of life if you want to make the money available in Manhattan.  Comparable jobs exist on Long Island.  If you’re not into corporate america there’s a CVS and Starbuck’s in every town.

Stop whining about not having everything handed to you.  Do some people?  Yes.  Does everyone?  No.  Do people work for what they have?  Yes.  Those who don’t fall into the “Poor Me” Syndrome and can’t find happiess anywhere.  Do us all a favor and just leave for your elusive search of Narnia before your negativity poisons those around you.

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