Location, location, location

I grew up in a small town about 30 miles north of New York City. Back then, it was a quiet, semirural community proud of its excellent school system. It was a wonderful place for raising children and still affordable for families with modest means.

Like half of the other men in town, my father commuted into the city for his job. As a result, he spent more than 2 hours of his day travelling. My memories of how he looked and what he said when he arrived home in the evening convinced me that I would never allow commuting to gobble up a large chunk of my life. As commutes go, I guess his was relatively benign. Most nights he had a seat on the train and could read the newspaper and do the crossword.

My sister and I will be forever grateful for those sacrifices he made by commuting so that we could grow up in a safe and supportive community. But as I considered my options for work, I ruled out the subspecialties of pediatric dermatology and radiology, which suited my visual skills, because they would have required me to live in a city of several hundred thousand people. My preference for small town life and an aversion to commuting meant that happiness would be more likely if I worked and resided in the same town.

Until one of our hospitals moved 4 miles to the other side of town a few years ago, my commute consisted of a 5-minute bike ride or a 12-minute walk. When our children were young, it meant that, even though I might not be able to make it home for dinner or tuck-in time, we could have lunch and play ball in the yard before their afternoon naps.

As I have watched other parents struggle to fabricate quality time with their children, I wish that more of them could have made the decision my wife and I made when we chose to live and work in the same community. I know that this will never be a viable option for many families, particularly for those saintly folks who have chosen to provide health care to underserved inner city populations. However, I fear that too many families underestimate the toll that commuting can take on the fabric of their lives.

A parent exhausted by a long drive in rush-hour traffic is generally not the best parent he or she could be. Young children have trouble understanding why they need to wait for the weekend to spend time with their parents. Workdays inflated by lengthy commutes may nudge parents into making the unwise decision of delaying their children’s bedtimes to an unhealthy hour so that they can be part of the process.

I suspect that most of you have long ago made the big decisions about location and have either endured the consequences or made creative adjustments that have allowed you to comfortably bridge the gap between where you work and where you live. But for those of you who are on the threshold of your professional career or who are facing burnout fueled by too-few-hours-in-a-day, do the math. Imagine what you could do with the time you will be or have been investing in your commute. Are there things you could be doing to make the community where you work a place where you would also like to live? If you eliminate your commute you may have the time to do all sorts of wonderful things.

Dr. Wilkoff practiced general pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly forty years. He is the author of "Coping with a Picky Eater: A Guide for the Perplexed Parent" and several other books. E-mail him at [email protected]. 

Updated 9/4/13, 10/8/13

I grew up in a small town about 30 miles north of New York City. Back then, it was a quiet, semirural community proud of its excellent school system. It was a wonderful place for raising children and still affordable for families with modest means.

Like half of the other men in town, my father commuted into the city for his job. As a result, he spent more than 2 hours of his day travelling. My memories of how he looked and what he said when he arrived home in the evening convinced me that I would never allow commuting to gobble up a large chunk of my life. As commutes go, I guess his was relatively benign. Most nights he had a seat on the train and could read the newspaper and do the crossword.

My sister and I will be forever grateful for those sacrifices he made by commuting so that we could grow up in a safe and supportive community. But as I considered my options for work, I ruled out the subspecialties of pediatric dermatology and radiology, which suited my visual skills, because they would have required me to live in a city of several hundred thousand people. My preference for small town life and an aversion to commuting meant that happiness would be more likely if I worked and resided in the same town.

Until one of our hospitals moved 4 miles to the other side of town a few years ago, my commute consisted of a 5-minute bike ride or a 12-minute walk. When our children were young, it meant that, even though I might not be able to make it home for dinner or tuck-in time, we could have lunch and play ball in the yard before their afternoon naps.

As I have watched other parents struggle to fabricate quality time with their children, I wish that more of them could have made the decision my wife and I made when we chose to live and work in the same community. I know that this will never be a viable option for many families, particularly for those saintly folks who have chosen to provide health care to underserved inner city populations. However, I fear that too many families underestimate the toll that commuting can take on the fabric of their lives.

A parent exhausted by a long drive in rush-hour traffic is generally not the best parent he or she could be. Young children have trouble understanding why they need to wait for the weekend to spend time with their parents. Workdays inflated by lengthy commutes may nudge parents into making the unwise decision of delaying their children’s bedtimes to an unhealthy hour so that they can be part of the process.

I suspect that most of you have long ago made the big decisions about location and have either endured the consequences or made creative adjustments that have allowed you to comfortably bridge the gap between where you work and where you live. But for those of you who are on the threshold of your professional career or who are facing burnout fueled by too-few-hours-in-a-day, do the math. Imagine what you could do with the time you will be or have been investing in your commute. Are there things you could be doing to make the community where you work a place where you would also like to live? If you eliminate your commute you may have the time to do all sorts of wonderful things.

Dr. Wilkoff practiced general pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly forty years. He is the author of "Coping with a Picky Eater: A Guide for the Perplexed Parent" and several other books. E-mail him at [email protected]. 

Updated 9/4/13, 10/8/13

I grew up in a small town about 30 miles north of New York City. Back then, it was a quiet, semirural community proud of its excellent school system. It was a wonderful place for raising children and still affordable for families with modest means.

Like half of the other men in town, my father commuted into the city for his job. As a result, he spent more than 2 hours of his day travelling. My memories of how he looked and what he said when he arrived home in the evening convinced me that I would never allow commuting to gobble up a large chunk of my life. As commutes go, I guess his was relatively benign. Most nights he had a seat on the train and could read the newspaper and do the crossword.

My sister and I will be forever grateful for those sacrifices he made by commuting so that we could grow up in a safe and supportive community. But as I considered my options for work, I ruled out the subspecialties of pediatric dermatology and radiology, which suited my visual skills, because they would have required me to live in a city of several hundred thousand people. My preference for small town life and an aversion to commuting meant that happiness would be more likely if I worked and resided in the same town.

Until one of our hospitals moved 4 miles to the other side of town a few years ago, my commute consisted of a 5-minute bike ride or a 12-minute walk. When our children were young, it meant that, even though I might not be able to make it home for dinner or tuck-in time, we could have lunch and play ball in the yard before their afternoon naps.

As I have watched other parents struggle to fabricate quality time with their children, I wish that more of them could have made the decision my wife and I made when we chose to live and work in the same community. I know that this will never be a viable option for many families, particularly for those saintly folks who have chosen to provide health care to underserved inner city populations. However, I fear that too many families underestimate the toll that commuting can take on the fabric of their lives.

A parent exhausted by a long drive in rush-hour traffic is generally not the best parent he or she could be. Young children have trouble understanding why they need to wait for the weekend to spend time with their parents. Workdays inflated by lengthy commutes may nudge parents into making the unwise decision of delaying their children’s bedtimes to an unhealthy hour so that they can be part of the process.

I suspect that most of you have long ago made the big decisions about location and have either endured the consequences or made creative adjustments that have allowed you to comfortably bridge the gap between where you work and where you live. But for those of you who are on the threshold of your professional career or who are facing burnout fueled by too-few-hours-in-a-day, do the math. Imagine what you could do with the time you will be or have been investing in your commute. Are there things you could be doing to make the community where you work a place where you would also like to live? If you eliminate your commute you may have the time to do all sorts of wonderful things.

Dr. Wilkoff practiced general pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly forty years. He is the author of "Coping with a Picky Eater: A Guide for the Perplexed Parent" and several other books. E-mail him at [email protected]. 

Updated 9/4/13, 10/8/13