I am Eloise. I am six. I am a city child. I live at The Plaza.

I knew it was time to get out of BigLaw the week I didn’t see my kids for 4 days in a row. I thought about leaving the whole time I was pregnant with my second child, but the economy was collapsing and friends and colleagues were being laid off by the dozen. I considered myself lucky to still be employed. But that week pushed me over the edge, so I started to apply for in-house jobs in Nashville and Louisville (equidistant to my hometown) and Atlanta (where we lived). Last Thanksgiving, my baby brother sat down at the dining room table at our cabin in the Smoky Mountains, cradling his face in his hands, and pleaded, “Are you EVER going to move home?” Our mom broke her leg twice earlier in the year and had been diagnosed with diabetes, and our dad had emergency hernia surgery that very morning. I had applied for an in-house counsel position with a company headquartered in Louisville just two weeks earlier, and told him so. I got the job, and 3 months later, we moved. We moved into a hotel.

My relocation package included a generous corporate housing component, which was great considering that we would be trying to sell our Atlanta home in such a terrible market. We moved into a 2,500 square foot waterfront apartment at The Galt House. I was less than six blocks from work (versus my 45-minute commute in Atlanta). We had plenty of room, a great view of the Ohio River and the Belle of Louisville, and were in the epicenter of Louisville’s cultural scene. We could walk to great restaurants like Vincenzo’s and Proof on Main (sans kids), play and splash at Waterfront Park, go to BATS games at Slugger Field, explore Museum Row, and catch shows at The Kentucky Center. I felt safe; my husband travels frequently for work, so I am a single parent most weeks. We had great neighbors from Singapore with kids the same age as ours. Room service. Let me say that again: ROOM SERVICE. The apartment had a full kitchen, but I’m lazy because I’m married to a chef and/or my culinary skills are lacking so we ate out a lot. Toast on Market has the most amazing lemon soufflé blueberry pancakes. Wick’s delivered the best deep dish in town right to the hotel and Impellizzeri's, which has the best thin crust, was just a few blocks away. Did you know The Galt House has warm chocolate chip cookies and milk on its room service menu? Trolley rides were as exciting as Space Mountain. A simple walk after dinner gave us an opportunity to assign names to the statues and other urban art that dot downtown Louisville.

However, sometimes living in a hotel is less like Eloise and more like The Shining. There was no yard for the kids. Heck, there wasn’t even a bedroom window for Kate. All of our furniture stayed behind in Atlanta (oh, how I missed my red couch!). Ugly hotel art, instead of family photographs, adorned our walls. Running errands from downtown was inconvenient and unloading the car afterwards was a nightmare with two kids in tow. Over the summer, there were numerous (luckily false) fire alarms; we were on the tenth floor and my almost 2-year-old weighs almost 30 pounds. My calves cramp up just thinking about it. We made the best of living in a hotel, but I am thrilled to now be living in a Louisville neighborhood that is within walking distance of one of the city’s lovely parks and my kids’ preschool, 15 minutes to downtown, and less than 10 minutes to a different set of fantastic restaurants and activities.