Since I usually look as if I just walked off a Milan runway, it will come as a shock to some of you that I wasn’t always so stylish. I found this treasure of a picture in a stack of family photos that my parents sent to me. Picture is circa 1991, and clearly taken at Caesar’s Palace in Vegas.
I mean, really, could we possibly be any dorkier? I feel bad for the poor gladiator, who was the only one appropriately dressed for the occasion.
After a great few days in Westchester, we headed to Brooklyn to spend a few days with my sister. We hopped on the train and the girl waved goodbye to her new friends, who waved from the platform. At every single station from Westchester to Grand Central, the girl looked at me and asked, “Friends? Where go?” She didn’t quite get the principle that we were at different stations every time…
We met up with Sapana –who, I’ve since learned, is called “Panda” by most of her workforce after multiple clients have written to the office for “Sapanda.” That’s how I’ll refer to her for the rest of this entry, and perhaps for the rest of the blog–anyway, we met up with Panda at Grand Central and dropped our stuff off at her office and headed to the Natural History Museum. That place is HUGE. Massive. We got lost quite a bit until we got our bearings and made our way to the dinosaurs.
It’s nearly impossible to get a decent picture in there, partly because the girl never stops moving:
and because the lighting is terrible! (This is remedied by the awesome flash that my parents got me for my birthday, which I can’t wait to try out!)
Look at that hadrosaur!
We hopped on the train back to Brooklyn, and got to Panda’s apartment. It’s a rather large (by NYC standards) 3 bedroom apartment, which she shares with two other people.
Do you remember being in college, or living away from home (or if you still live at home, this is every day), when your mom would come visit and would, well, go into mom-mode? I don’t remember this because my mother never once visited any place that I lived away from home until the day I left, so I never got this benefit. (Sorry, Mom, but it’s true.) My roommates’ parents, however, would often visit and I’d see the mom-ing take place. Shortly after arrival would be a trip to Target and back would come bags and bags of shower curtains, and floor mats, and furniture. When I was in high school, we got the mom-ing from my aunt! She came to visit us in California and was apparently so horrified that we used reusable sectioned plastic dishes as dinnerware that shortly after her departure, boxes and boxes of matching Mikasa dinnerware sets showed up at the house. I used to wonder how one knew how to do that stuff–was there a mom class that you took?
Apparently, I’ve taken this class at some point because my first instinct on going to Panda’s place was to take her to Target, Ikea, and Bed Bath and Beyond and buy new stuff for her. She’s been there for 9 months but on a shoestring and hasn’t been able to get a lot of the home furnishings she’d like. We didn’t manage to go because it was just impossible with a two year old in tow, but I’ve learned that sometime after actually becoming a parent, I’ve become a Mom. Fantastic.
The next day we went to the Prospect Park Zoo and met up with Eric’s family, who drove up from Pennsylvania!
Here’s the girl with her adorable cousins:
The older kids were so good with the little girl, and they all clearly loved being together. The Zoo is a bit scaled-down from your typical zoo which was perfect. There’s a petting zoo that the girl just loved. I think she fed almost all the animals except the alpaca and some dwarf cow thing, because they were over 4 times her size. Anything smaller than that, she had no problem with.
The next day, we took a visit to the MoMA. The girl was NOT very impressed, though I did get her to sing “Twinkle Twinkle” while looking at “Starry Night,” which I got a kick out of. 
Then the girl posed in front of a wall describing all her finer points:
After that, a trip to Central Park and then, finally, back to Brooklyn to pass out. Panda and I were exhausted, so we thought we’d watch a movie together and just choose from one of her roommate’s 100+ titles. Unfortunately, this particular roommate is a documentary producer-type and doesn’t own movies, only films. We ended up watching “Memento” and going to sleep with a quite unsettled feeling.
The next day the girl and I bid farewell to Panda and set off for Denver again. The flight home was not as much fun, and culminated in the girl spitting into her hands and then grooming herself like a cat.
It felt good to get home.
A few thoughts after the trip as a whole:
I’ve been to New York plenty of times, and have always loved going there and just feeling the general excitement of the place. Being there with a two year old is an entirely different phenomenon, however. I was struck by how much of just getting around was a struggle. Here, we live in the city but aren’t fighting the crowds and noise right outside our doorstep every moment of every day. Even if you’re a wealthy New Yorker and live in a beautiful apartment overlooking something green, as soon as you get on the street you’re back in the middle of it all. And as for that “something green,” Denver is rife with green spaces and flora, even just in the front yards. In New York, those spaces are relegated to small community gardens, balconies, some roofs, and Central Park. You have to make an effort to get there–it’s not just in front of you all the time. Before I had kids, I never would have noticed these things, since my main focus was on museums and, well, the bars and clubs.
I loved travelling with my daughter. It’s so different to visit places as an adult and make an impression of them, and then think about those same places through your child’s eyes. I know that she’ll remember little, if anything, of this trip when she’s older, but there is value in the experience and the exposure. I don’t buy the argument that you shouldn’t travel with your kids before they can remember it–I mean, if you extend that argument why expose them to anything before memory sets in? The girl LOVED all the newness and the thrill of being somewhere new, taking the train, having a daily adventure. We give our children experiences that shape and form who they are as adults, even if the experience itself becomes nothing but a faded impression.
And one last thought–all you second and beyond children, your suspicions have been correct all these years. You completely missed out. The girl’s language developed exponentially during this one week trip, and I think it’s because she had my undivided attention. I’ve realized ever since the boy came back home that he gets about 80% of my verbal attention and the girl gets the rest. (Eric and I basically just communicate in grunts at this point, so that doesn’t factor in.) It really made me realize that both Eric and I need to spend more one-on-one time with our small one.
Overall, a fantastic trip! I loved getting back to my garden, and can’t wait to update you all with the next post!
The girl and I took a trip last week to NYC, first to visit my good friend Rebecca in Westchester, and then onto visit my sister in Brooklyn. I’ll talk about the Brooklyn half in the next post because this one gets a bit long. Stick with it though, for the incredible, never-before-heard, toddler travel tip that will guarantee a smooth journey with your small one.
First, a few notes about the girl.
This is a 2 year old who skipped naps, skipped meals, ate all sorts of sugary crap, had leaky diapers, was a stranger in a strange land, and through it all, was her usual smiling self. She is just remarkable. If I had subjected her brother at the same age to all these disruptions, he would have been an absolute disaster. No fun at all. With few exceptions, the girl was a pleasure to travel with and clearly loved the excitement of being somewhere new and making new friends.
We got into town last Wednesday night and went to Rebecca’s very nice house in Westchester and played with her delightful kids for three days. Her daughter Sari, 51/2, is a real take-charge type (just like her mom) and made sure that the girl was well attended to. At one point, my girl was outfitted with a baby-filled stroller, toy cell phone, purse, and play shoes. Sari took one look at her and said, “You’re the mommy now, so you need a camera. Here–let me get you one” and promptly plopped a camera around her neck, to my little one’s delight. This is the best picture I got of her, so you can’t properly see how adorable Sari is. You can, however, see Rebecca’s playroom, complete with trampoline (!), that my girl went gaga over.
The next day we went to the Children’s Museum in Norwalk, Connecticut. It’s a fabulous kids museum with a lot to do for the toddler set, which is a nice change since so many Children’s museums are often more geared to the 5-9 year old set, with the exception of a fomite-filled infant/toddler play area, from which your child is sure to bring home some novel germ and infect the entire family. Of course, as luck would have it, 3 big school groups showed up at the same time we did and the place was insane. The kids didn’t seem to mind at all, but it was maddening for Rebecca and I.
There was a great water play area. My child is the one who refused to wear the protective apron. See if you can spot her.
Sorry for the blurred out faces–it’s a little creepy, I know. You know what I always think, though, is “What if someone is in the Witness Protection Program?” Then I go and post their picture on my little site with identifying local information and the mafia tracks them down and kills them. I couldn’t live with myself.
The outdoor play area is awesome. It’s a big area filled with giant blocks, noodles, and walls that can all be built together to make a DIY play structure.
See the older kids making the incredible sculpture in the background? Those were the some school group members I had to mildly chastise for trying to run our children over in the “Tot Spot.” When they all came out for lunch onto the playground, it felt like the Running of the Bulls had been let onto a field of baby bunnies. Rebecca and I saw the doors open, and as if in slow motion, we saw the 8 year olds exploding out the doors. We jumped and swept our baby bunnies into our arms, seconds away from being trampled on by size 6 sneakers. After the bulls had been appropriately shooed away from the bunny field, our kids went back to playing peacefully. On a side note, you may also notice that my daughter has undergone a wardrobe change from the water play area. You figure it out.
Here’s Rebecca’s son, Donny, having a ball. He would keep bringing in more and more foam blocks into the little fortress with the girl, and she would get increasingly disgruntled about it and promptly pick them up and throw them out as fast as she could. It became very comical.
For me, it was just so nice to be around an old friend. Bec and I have an easy time together and it was so relaxing to be with someone that I feel totally comfortable around. I find that as I get older, it gets harder and harder to make that same sort of friend. I think a lot of it has to do with the fact that Rebecca and I spent hours and hours together in medical school since we lived together, and also went through that difficult time together, which bonds you to someone. Now with the kids, I just don’t have that same amount of free time or the ability to just sit on the couch for hours with a girlfriend watching dumb TV shows and talking about nothing.
I was pretty proud of myself for being a single parent travelling with a small child and not checking on any luggage. I used bungee cords to attach the carseat to the carryon bag, had a backpack on my back and had one hand free. As it turns out, the girl likes to walk everywhere and I didn’t have to carry her in the airport. On the way over, the girl slept for an hour and a half, then woke up, drank juice, ate food and played with everything in the back of tricks I had brought. The magical thing for small kids, I’ve learned, is stickers. Lots and lots of stickers kept her occupied for a long time. I also bought a magnetic playboard that was fun for a bit, as well as crayons and a few books. It was one of those public “What a good mom I am” moments. (It was not repeated on the flight back and I got plenty of “Why doesn’t she do something about that screaming child?” stares. I’ll go into that the next post. For now, I’ll pretend like it didn’t happen.)
Are you ready for the never-before-heard toddler travel tip? It’ll change your life, I swear. If you want to have easy travel with a small child, the trick is to….
Give birth to an easy child.
That’s it. Just make sure that when you conceive, you are creating a future non-fussy, loves-to-sleep-and-eat, basically happy creature and you too can have many future enjoyable journeys. You heard it here first.
Stay tuned for the Brooklyn half of the ex-po-tition!
Our flight started with some of the worst turbulence that I’ve ever experienced, and I’ve flown quite a bit. I used to actually love flying–the excitement of going somewhere, that feeling of accelerating down the runway. Ever since 9/11, though, it’s just terrified me. When I fly alone I can premedicate with a drink at the airport bar, but downing a vodka martini while swatting away at two small children is generally frowned upon. In public, anyway.
I won’t lie–my usual lack of religious fervor takes a backseat to my desire to live when planes swing from side to side. Even the boy looked at me and said, “Mom, you said this would be fun. This is NOT fun.” I did my best to keep my calm face on despite the severe internal panic.
After the flight, the flight attendant told us that had been the worst turbulence she’d experienced in decades, which made me feel a bit better.
We had a nice condo on the beach, and our days consisted of hanging out at the beach in the morning, swimming in the pool in the afternoon, and just relaxing. One thing that surprised me was how much the kids needed the relaxing, too! I mean, what’s stressful about their lives? But I think that school is hard for them–they work hard and are exhausted by the end of the day, and I couldn’t believe how much their little bodies just un-tensed. We had few issues with the boy and conflict while we were there, which made me realize that a lot of the problems arise when we need him to do things right away during stressful times–in the morning before going to work, and in the evenings before dinner. On the beach, there really wasn’t much he needed to do, and there were few time restrictions.
Despite all the relaxing time, though, I managed to learn a little travel lesson while I was there. I thought it might be nice to take a boat trip to some of the nice beaches, and snorkel. I went to the corner travel agent, whom I THOUGHT was with the registered tour place (mistake #1) and booked a 5 hour boat trip. The guy was sketchy and I had a bad feeling, but I brushed it off (mistake #2). That night, Eric said that he didn’t want to take the kids on the trip, he thought it would be too much for them. (Wise decision #1). In the morning, my sister and I went to the booth where Carlos had agreed to meet us to pay for our transportation to the boat and back, which I had been told would be a private van.
When we got there, Carlos walked us up a block and practically shoved us onto a public bus, told the driver to drop us off at the Marina, and then jumped off at the next stop after handing us a slip of paper with the words “Hector, #10” written on it. As we ride down the highway, I tell Sapana, “I hope this ends up being a fun story, and not a funny story.” (Insight #1)
We get off where the driver gestures and find ourselves standing amidst a LOT of really, really fit looking people scrambling to get onto bicycles. Turns out the bus driver had left us in the middle of the Mexican National Triathlon!! We looked idiotic wandering around the race area for a while, and then just got into the spirit and started cheering people on as they came in from the run and transitioned to riding. I even asked someone where the ships leave from and he told us that the marina was closed for the next 4 hours! We figured we’d hang out for a bit and then just hop a bus back (which would have been wise decision #2) but then I spied a passel of white people waiting on the other side of the marina and figured that was where we were supposed to be. (Correct, but actually unwise decision)
Indeed, there we found Hector waiting at gate #10, and got in line with a bunch of Mexican vacationers and a few foreign tourists. The boat itself was fine initially, the snorkeling was awful, and the beach we went to was actually stunning. The ride back, however, was painfully slow and when we asked what was going on, we found out that the boat crew had failed to bring enough oil for the journey and so could only run the engine at quarter-speed. I mean, WHO forgets to bring OIL when you do this as a daily activity?! Thus, the 5 hour boat trip turned into a 9 hour journey. The entire way back the boat “captain” had people playing ridiculous games that consisted of “sexy dancing” and yelling “andale” a LOT, with blaring speakers. Our ears hurt.
When we got back, Eric was worried sick and livid, which was rapidly cured by a few margaritas. (Wise decision #3)
Still, I can’t believe I got duped like that! I think of myself as a very savvy traveller, so it just felt like salt in a prideful wound. Ah well. Next time, we’ll just hire a private boat (with oil) for about the same price.
Another thing that struck me–we went to the MegaMart there to go grocery shopping, which was larger than and more confusing than Wal-Marts here. I couldn’t believe the MASSIVE amounts of produce that people bought! The little plastic bags in the produce section here were about 4 times as large, and people filled them up with literally 20-30 fruits or vegetables at a time! Partly, I think it’s because of larger family sizes and just that people cook more at home rather than go out, but it was still astonishing to watch.
It was also wonderful to spend time with my sister, though I feel that every time she spends a week with the kids she feels less and less motivated to actually HAVE children of her own. Don’t get me wrong–she loves her niece and nephew, but they are a lot of work, too. A few references were made that I should consider being the sole grandchild producer for my parents, and when we went to the airport to leave (our flights left at the same time) she chose to go and wait by herself at her gate half an hour early. I can’t wait until the kids are old enough to simply drop off on her front doorstep for a week or two while Eric and I take a vacation by ourselves–she’ll love it.
All in all, a great trip. I think we’re going to try for a yearly vacation, and alternate beach vacation years with more adventure travel years to get it all in.
Once the girl is potty trained, of course.
fretzes on the loose 