In Praise of a Small Apartment & City Living

United States Botanic Garden

I’ve been told that I can’t raise a child in the city, at least not in a small apartment. Since we’d rather live in the city (and within walking distance of my husband’s work), this is where we live. For all of my city-dwelling or city-wish-to-be-dwelling, here’s my praise of our little home and its location.

We have a two bedroom apartment with a living room and separate eating area. By my Italian immigrant relatives’ (likely) standards, we have more than enough room for two parents and one child.

Living in our nation’s capital, we can take the bus, train or car to a long list of free museums, libraries, poetry readings, parks, embassy events, musical shows and more. The number of free family-oriented and adult events in this city continues to astound me, and I’m one of those cynical folks who grew up near New York City.

As a nervous nelly who is always convinced a murderer will one day knock on our door, I love living in a building with other units. Worse case scenario, one of them will call the police while I scream for help after the murderer has barged in. I feel much safer than I would living in a single family home isolated from neighbors, whether we love them or not. But enough about my own issues... 

I’ve found it easy to raise our son, now 18 months old, in a small apartment. He can run from one end of the apartment to the other pretty quickly and we can keep up. We always know where he is, which is especially great now that he finds hiding so entertaining. With baby gates we can be even more sure that he’s not in the kitchen where the stove might be hot. He’s generally free to go from one room to another and I can either see or hear him at any moment.

When he was even tinier and constantly taking a bottle, I could quickly step into the kitchen and prepare him a bottle. Now I can scoot into the kitchen to make my coffee first thing in the morning after he wakes up. And even without the video monitor (yes, we’re those parents), I can hear what he’s up to.

We spend a lot of time outside: walking to the two playgrounds at the elementary school only a few blocks away and playing on our block. There are many families in the neighborhood and most people play in their front yards. We’ve met families with kids of different ages and my son has played with them. If we were all hiding behind fences in our backyard, I don’t know how we’d ever meet anyone.

Before daycare, when we had babysitters, it was hard to work at my desk. Luckily, there are a number of beautiful libraries really close with nice lighting, strong internet connection, plugs and space. I particularly love working on the second floor of the Georgetown city library with its tall windows.

In college, I was jealous of a friend who grew up in New York City. She’d tell tales of taking the subway to see art exhibits at the Metropolitan Museum of Art and more. I knew I wanted to offer my child – and myself - such easy access to a world within a city.

And what does living in Washington, D.C., mean for my poetry? I can hear the Poet Laureate’s inaugural reading at the Library of Congress in the fall, regular readings at the many cafes, bookstores, universities and embassies, no matter how small my living space may be. And one day my son will join me.