Category: Family Life

Getting Around: Walk!

~ ejmcewan ~ 3 Comments

According to Walkscore.com, I live in a “Walker’s Paradise,” scoring 92 points out of a possible 100. Before I look further into why my address gets such a high score and why I think it might be a tad unrealistic, let me tell you why the “walkability” of my home is so important to me.

1. It familiarizes me with my neighborhood and familiarizes my neighbors with me.
Case in point: when I moved into Cincinnati and lived in the Northside neighborhood, my parents worried that it was unsafe. Although I’ll admit that I had a few uncomfortable situations there–mostly involving the vacant lot across the alley from my backporch–I realized something very important early on: Safety, in many ways, is a byproduct of living as if you belong where you are. For example, I took opportunities to familiarize myself with my neighborhood, get to know the streets, smile at the people next door (and say “hello!”), walk a lot, and begin to see my enviornment as a part of my life and not just something I drive through on my way between home and work. The same is definitely true living in Over-the-Rhine. Though the environment may be a bit more volitile, I’ve learned to take advantage of every opportunity to own my neighborhood. My hope is that as I walk up and down the street on my way to the Market or down to the library, I become a familiar face. Then, my neighbors will see me as less of a threat and I will become a part of the neighborhood.

2. The charm of a car-free life!
Right now, my husband and I each have a car that was brought into our marriage. Because both cars are completely paid-off, we have free off-street parking at home, my mother in-law is 20 minutes away, my parents are 300 miles away, and some dear friends live in the farther parts of the Cincinnati area, we have no immediate need/desire to get rid of our cars. But, we have often considered what our lives would look like as a one-car family, if we traded in both for one newer, more reliable family vehicle. This begs the question: could either of us survive the day without a car? I am a bit more excited about the prospect than my husband does, since I have come to love the days (like today) when my son and I go on an adventure around town–all on foot. Living in a place that is easily navigable on foot (or bicycle) means that I don’t have to mess with loading a baby in and out of a car just to pick up my few missing ingredients at the grocery store, check out the library’s most recent DVD purchases, or sneak into that corner store for a can of Diet Coke. No traffic. No parking tickets. No car insurance bills, registration fees, taxes, etc. It sounds great, doesn’t it?

3. I need the exercise.
I have never been a thin or particularly physically fit woman. That said, ten months after having a baby I seem fairly unscathed physically. I chalk that up to walking, and often carrying my child, around town. It’s that simple: I need exercise and if the only walking I do is to and from my car parked in the grocery store parking lot, I don’t get enough. It’s good for me to use my legs every once and a while, and it’s good for my son to get used to an active lifestyle while he’s young and can see it modeled in his parents.

4. What’s within walking distance says something about the values of the community.
With few exceptions, most folks don’t live near amenities such as locally-owned businesses, restaurants, cultural/arts institutions, colleges or universities, public parks, etc. unless they appreciate and intend to use them. Stated plainly: I choose to live within walking distance of Findlay Market because I want to spend time at Findlay Market and with other people who like to be at Findlay Market–these are my people. It seems obvious, but we often forget that we naturally gravitate to the things that are most important to us. And, where you live influences the way you spend money, which says a lot about what you value. Folks who live near Kenwood Mall should not be surprised if their neighbors spend more money at Nordstrom than they do downtown. And if they would rather spend time with people who spend time and money downtown, they should just move nearer to downtown. It seems pretty obvious to me.

Now, let me explain why the Walkscore of my Cincinnati home is a little misleading.

My walkability score is based on how close in proximity my address is to things like clothing stores, restaurants, grocery stores, and public transportation. Yes, I may be very near most of these things, but they aren’t all what they’re cracked up to be. For example, I don’t frequent “Bills’ Supermrkt” very much, since the majority of his inventory consists of malt liquor beverages and bagged potato chips. And, his close proximity helps bring up my walkability score even though his presence here actual diminishes my ability to walk down the street after dark. So, the score needs to be taken in context and with a grain of salt. For me, my interests, and my personal taste, my home would probably score more like 80 out of 100. That is still pretty amazing if you ask me.

Heck, if I were still in college, that could be a solid “B.”

My former address in Northside scores an 88 out of 100.
My former address in Elgin, Illinois scores an 89 out of 100.
I think those scores are probably more accurate.

What’s your score?
Do you think it’s accurate?

Getting Around: Baby-Friendly Biking

~ ejmcewan ~ Leave a comment

Although I’ve never been a “serious biker,” I have enjoyed periods of my life when I commuted either to school, to work, or on errands by bicycle. Here in Cincinnati, the downtown business district is easily navigable by bicycle (although the area surrounding downtown is riddled with hills that, I’ll admit, I have dared not climb).

I would like to resurrect the bike-riding part of myself, but there is one problem: a nine-month old baby.

I’ve been told that I’m crazy to think of letting my baby anywhere near my bicycle, let alone let him ride along with me. Still, I can’t help but fantasize about strapping him in a little bike seat and pedaling down the block for a cup of coffee or to the library–it seems a bit more efficient than walking with a stroller. Heck! I could pedal that thing clear across the river if I wanted to!

In many other parts of the world, family bicycling is not only acceptable, but it’s perfectly normal. A quick Google search online yields an amazing array of family bikes, some homemade from unlikely and *gasp* possibly unsafe materials and others fancy, special-order types that cost as much as a cheap car. I’m interested in what other people have discovered as the best option for commuting by bike with a child who is too young to pedal along.

Have you seen or used any of the products pictured below?
Do you “serious” riders have any suggestions for those of us who are ready to get back on a bike?

Most of us are familiar with traditional rear-mounted bike seats, but I’ve recently discovered the front-mounted variety which seem to make a lot more sense to me: the iBert Safe-T-Seat

Another familiar product, I grew up riding behind my father in something similar to this trailer (although I think my dad made ours himself): the Burley d’lite ST

This is a front-mounted spin on the traditional rear-mount trailer: the Zigo Leader

And a cooler version of the front-mount trailer: the trioBike

And what is, perhaps, my favorite family bike option from what I’ve seen: the Madsen Bucket

One question, though: If I saved my pennies to buy the Madsen Bucket cycle, where would I park the darn thing? Do you think it requires a parking space? Geez…

Until I can figure out where my son and I fit into the bicycling world, I fully support making our city more bike-friendly and I try to do my part to drive with cyclists in mind. Ride on, my friends. Ride on.

About Cincinnati and how I ended up here.

~ ejmcewan ~ 3 Comments

According to the source of all human knowledge (Wikipedia):

Cincinnati is a city in the U.S. state of Ohio and the county seat of Hamilton County. The municipality is located north of the Ohio River at the Ohio-Kentucky border. The population within city limits was 333,336 in 2008, making it the state’s third largest city. In 2008, the Cincinnati Metropolitan Area had a population of 2,155,137 making it the largest MSA in Ohio, and the 24th most populous in the United States. Residents of Cincinnati are called Cincinnatians.

Cincinnati is considered to have been the first American boomtown in the heart of the country in the early nineteenth century to rival the larger coastal cities in size and wealth. As the first major inland city in the country, it is sometimes thought of as the first purely American city, lacking the heavy European influence that was present on the east coast. However, by the end of the nineteenth century, Cincinnati’s growth had slowed considerably, and the city was surpassed in population by many other inland cities…

Cincinnati is also known for having one of the larger collections of nineteenth-century Italianate architecture in the U.S., primarily concentrated just north of Downtown in an area known as Over-the-Rhine. Over-the-Rhine is one of the largest historic districts listed on the National Register of Historic Places.

Read the full article here.

How did I end up Cincinnati?

I grew up in the near southwest suburbs of Chicago, in a small city called Palos Heights. I am a bonafide Midwesterner, with the first eighteen years of my life contained within the southern half of the Chicagoland area, and summers spent between our family’s small lake cottage in southwestern Michigan and a camp in the northwoods of Wisconsin. Until I was about sixteen years old and allowed brief day trips downtown with my brothers or friends, my experience of real urban life was limited to school field trips, visits with friends who lived nearer to the city, and the occasional family drive downtown.

I attended college at a small university in Elgin, IL, a city 40 miles west of Chicago and ten times the size of my hometown. Elgin is not exactly a booming metropolis, but it’s a city nonetheless. With it’s official population hovering around 100,000, off the record are the (I’m guessing) thousands of illegal immigrants and hundreds of homeless that live there. The city, at the time I lived there, was almost a Little Mexico, with just as many signs in Spanish as there are were English, and Cinco de Mayo was a hell of a party in town.

The summer before our senior year of college, two friends and I moved into a small loft on Chicago St. My bedroom was extremely cold in the winter, hot in the summer, and we could hear everything our downstairs neighbor did (and smell every drug he smoked). We were on the third floor, two stories above a tattoo shop, nextdoor to the YWCA, two doors from the public parking garage (where we parked), and a few blocks from the public library. Our favorite bar–The Gasthaus–was three blocks away, my bank was on the corner, Akina’s was a few blocks away if we wanted Thai food, and so was Al’s Cafe (for sandwiches and milkshakes). We walked down to Cafe Magdelina for wine and creme brulee, and I rode my bike to the grocery store (where half the signs were in Spanish) for groceries. I bought fresh cookies at one of the local Mexican bakeries and I shopped for gifts at Keeney’s–the old-school sporting goods store with a treasure trove of vintage goods in the basement. I worked at a local coffee shop and rode my bike to summer classes. I took the train–from the station on the river–to Chicago.

Elgin may not be a booming metropolis, but I loved it there.
After growing up in a neighborhood where the more urban areas 10 miles away were considered “dangerous,” Elgin liberated me of my suburban bias. I experienced what much of the rest of the world experiences–loud streets, street parking, public transportation, homeless neighbors, etc.

In the summer of 2005, in an effort to sustain a oft-wavering relationship (that ultimately failed), I moved to Cincinnati. My first apartment was a tiny, 2-room, studio in the back of a house. In the unit next door lived another local musician. I had a separate entrance with a little patio and a plum tree outside my window. I slept on a loft built into the corner of the living room, and survived the misery of my first hot, humid Cincinnati summer without A/C. The apartment was in the Northside neighborhood of the city and I lived a block off of the main street, where I could find just about anything I needed–veggies, beer, ice cream, breakfast, an indie flick, records, or vintage clothes. I think the only thing Northside doesn’t have is a full-service grocery store, but one of the best ones in the city is only a 5 minute drive away.

After a year in Northside, I moved to Norwood to live with some friends in the same neighborhood as our church community. I lived there–without the amenities of a hip, urban life but surrounded by the same urban blight–for almost two years.

Then I got myself married and moved to Over-the-Rhine.

My husband and I are now almost a year and a half into our marriage and almost 8 months into parenthood. We rent a large loft apartment north of Liberty St., in a part of OTR that hasn’t yet been gifted with the development that our neighbors below Liberty have. In the next year, we hope to purchase our first house. For now, we invest a lot of time and energy in improving our apartment in whatever ways we can, for as little as we can, so that the hostility of the neighborhood doesn’t seep into our home.

The city is a difficult place to live.
I am the first to admit this.

My husband and I sometimes dream of a rural homestead, a place where our family can have some privacy, peace & quiet, and be surrounding by natural spaces instead of concrete. And we often admit to each other that the suburbs have a certain charm–clean sidewalks, backyards, and friendly neighbors. But we have, at least for the time being, committed to living as near downtown as possible. We believe that the city needs families and that families need each other, so we’ve put ourselves in a position to be a part of a renaissance that calls families back to our urban core. I can’t guarantee how long our time in Cincinnati will last, but for the time I’m here, I have chosen to dive head-first into my new hometown.

I want to share the wonderful things I’ve discovered about my city and the life that cities in general offer. Maybe I can paint a picture of city living the way it’s supposed to be–vibrant, creative, friendly, and POSSIBLE–so that someday, I can call you my neighbor.

Thanks for reading!