“And Just Like That” shows the mother of all downsides: spoiled rich children

One of the most thoughtful conversations in “And Just Like That…” occurs in season one when Nya (Karen Pittman) confides in Miranda (Cynthia Nixon) that she’s undergoing a second round of IVF. Nya describes the treatment as a necessary second trip to hell “because the first one didn’t help.”

Then, after Nya describes how difficult it is for her to sell motherhood, she allows a secret to surface. “When my last round of IVF didn’t go through, um… I felt a surge of relief. And listen, my husband and I love our lives. But then I’m also afraid that if I don’t have a child, I’ll regret it one day.

Nya’s second IVF round doesn’t work either. Not long after, their marriage also failed. Nya’s husband Andre (LeRoy McClain) decides to have children, but she doesn’t.

And that makes Nya’s action extra cute in the episode titled “There Goes the Neighborhood.” For most of Season 2, we watched as she worked through her divorce anger through culinary comfort and at least one anonymous hotel accident. Now Dr. Wallace finally gets some of that city sex, loudly enjoying a Tinder himbo while Miranda flinches at every moan in the room next door.

Across town, Seema Patel (Sarita Choudhury) enjoys a love scene with her discerning film director client (Armin Amiri), and in someone else’s luxurious Manhattan apartment. Completing that hat-trick is Carrie (Sarah Jessica Parker), still smoking her newly rekindled connection with Aidan (John Corbett). For the first few weeks of their connection, the two settled into a hotel bed and ordered overpriced omelettes before extending their welcome stay at Che’s (Sara Ramirez) illegal vacation home.

So that’s a triple score for the childless.

Meanwhile, Lisa Todd Wexley (Nicole Ari Parker) collapses under the burden of being a successful filmmaker and political wife And A mother. She commits the crime of crimes and passes out so much that her child has to make cereal for dinner. Her husband Herbert (Chris Jackson) is horrified.

Elsewhere, Charlotte (Kristin Davis) has a better handle on motherhood, especially as she coddles her daughters beyond measure.

Meanwhile, Miranda confides in Charlotte that she’s worried about her underperforming jerk, Brady (Niall Cunningham). Charlotte’s solution is to send her eldest and newly sexually active child, Lily (Cathy Ang), to Brooklyn in hopes that Lily will talk some sense into her non-biological cousin.

What Miranda doesn’t plan on doing is catching Lily the next morning strutting out of Brady’s bedroom without pants.

Niall Cunningham and Cathy Ang in “And Just Like That” (Max)“And Just Like That” misses many goals, but is fairly impartial in its portrayal of motherhood and the lives of women who choose not to have children. Not versus, as this means a competition between mothers and others – And.

In the old “Sex and the City” days, Carrie supported Charlotte’s longing for motherhood with a spirit that matched her faith in Samantha’s sexual enthusiasm and Miranda’s career aspirations.

Carrie was also content to retire from the bottle-and-diaper races; Babies didn’t fit her upscale New York life. The extra space available in her beloved jewelry box apartment is already taken up by her greatest loves: clothes and shoes.

Then as now, the series’ writers don’t unequivocally advocate for one state of being or the other, instead opting to thoughtfully contextualize every life choice as “paths not taken,” to paraphrase Miranda’s advice to Nya’s dinner a long time ago,

However, There Goes the Neighborhood makes a strong case for the emotional and spiritual freedom available to women like Seema and Nya, both of whom make it a point to prioritize their joy as they are under no obligation to do so to breastfeed children.

Seema’s disheartening speech to Carrie in the previous episode (“A Hundred Years Ago”) makes that clear when she tells her new friend that she’s recovered the bail on her summer apartment in the Hamptons.

“From what I’ve heard, it seems to me that you had those two great loves, and I didn’t have — no, please don’t say I will because I might not.” And I can live with that,” Seema tells Carrie. “But I can’t this summer. That’s not true – I could, but I don’t want to. I don’t want to spend a fortune to have that feeling.”

Why should she? Seema knows what she wants and Nya discovers what she needs. Of the two, Choudhury’s character has received more attention and development since she won fourth place at the restaurant.

Meanwhile, in And Just Like That, Nya occupies a borderline space while the writers figure out what to do with their subplot. Overall, her identity reclaiming journey has been enjoyable, if relatively limited, save for accidentally stumbling this episode on an Instagram post of Andre with his newly pregnant lover.

Her shock is truly devastating, much like the smack of Neema’s confession to Carrie. On the other hand, if Nya is questioning her procreative choices, she could just hang out with Brady, Lily, and Rock (Alexa Swinton).

Because really, and I can’t think of any other way to put it that captures the simple, honest, and compelling power behind it: fuck the kids.

The kids’ band And Just Like That is made up of selfish, reckless, and mentally draining little bling ring goblins.

To be clear, the Wexley kids aren’t included in this review as we hardly know them for the same reasons we don’t have a glimpse of Nya’s insides. That’s unlikely to change as Lisa is about to spawn a new addition. Also, after meeting Herbert’s overbearing mother, it’s assumed that Lisa and Herbert are raising their kids somewhat that way. . . I have no notes!

As for the eldest of the Goldenblatts sending her mother into a city-crippling snowstorm to get her condoms for her first sexual experience, what sane parent would comply? (Follow-up question on behalf of my old-school readership: Why hasn’t Charlotte discovered a case yet? How is Lily still alive?)

How many boys who graduate from high school are so retarded that they can’t face their first big breakup without interfering in their mother’s life — and contributing to the ruin of their new relationship? (It’s also Miranda’s fault for taking her phone with her in Che’s pilot, but – Brady’s breakup happened in Amsterdam! Tell that whippersnapper to go to a coffee shop and smoke it up!)

Niall Cunningham and Cynthia Nixon in “And Just Like That” (Max)So the possibility of Lily and Brady dating is indeed scary. But they’re also a living reminder that even after you’ve gotten past the 3am crying and shitting your pants phase of parenting, your genetic material may never fail on its own.

Even if they do, they may spend their youth trying to push you to the edge of your sanity. Remember Lily’s first pop dirge?

“Empty mirrors, I’m invisible/ Park Avenue streets, where do they lead?” Stuck in the damn deep/ The power of privilege.”

To the review: Seema and Nya? you are good You find out things. You don’t have to deal with that noise.

Carrie, on the other hand, is willing to give up her perfect little apartment to buy a massive pre-war palace in Gramercy Park because Aidan will never set foot in her place again.

Edith Wharton’s miniature estate is undeniably fabulous. Each wall looks like a slice of wedding cake, and a stroll through the local park, to which Carrie has a gate key, is just a few steps away.

But it’s one thing to choose love – and, obviously, violent sex – and another to give up hard-won shelter to make it more comfortable for a man you once abandoned and your sons Homer, Tate and to house 14-year-old Wyatt after spending money with them for just a week. Besides, Wyatt hates her. (F**k the kids too.)

Sarah Jessica Parker and John Corbett in “And Just Like That” (Craig Blankenhorn/Max)Aidan’s return made us reflect on how few chances And Just Like That is willing to take with the show’s standard-bearer, and how frustrating that standstill feels.

Nonetheless, credit is due to the authors for justifying its reappearance as allowing Carrie to explore an important path she hasn’t trodden in her life – a fantasy most people would love to explore.

Giving up Carrie’s signature hideout is a way of living up to the original thesis of And Just Like That (as it was) to catch up with these characters and move on with them. Carrie’s place was always hers — she kept it throughout her marriage to Big, not as a contingency plan but because it’s her place. Maybe it’s time she leveled up.

But ladies, listen to me now: Real estate in Manhattan is one of the safest things there is.

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Carrie accepts Aidan’s family and lifestyle at her expense and in a very short time. And yes, moving on means letting go of old habits, including classically charming apartments that are made for you. But in a series still figuring out what it wants to say through its characters and this period of life, her reasoning is a fit of narrative aphasia.

When Aidan’s ex-wife, Kathy (played by Rosemarie DeWitt), meets with Carrie and warns the author not to source her children from fabric, it’s a red flag that’s sent to the sky.

It’s a shame Carrie doesn’t spend more time with Nya, who has peered into the maternity tunnel with Miranda and realized that having your own room is a wonderful thing.

“There are so many nights I want to be a judge and go home to an empty house,” Miranda Nya says over dinner. “And then I see my son and I’m glad! And then I see his dirty underwear on my kitchen floor and I’m angry.”

Carrie’s new place has an echo that she and Aidan will be happy to put to the test. We now know that these grand plans are often thwarted by shedding other stilettos. Assuming Wyatt isn’t banging it against one of her expensive walls in this case, everything should work out.