My very kind sister
dropped Brent and Milo and I at the Portland airport at 8:15 pm, and drove back to our suburban home with our three older kids. Brent and I were scheduled to catch the red eye flight to New York City. VERY EXCITING! Brent and I had planned to take a trip together, sans children, for our 10th anniversary. But because of a dear baby and a funeral it didn't happen that 10th year. "Never fear," Brent said. "The only reason the 10th anniversary is such a milestone is because we have 10 fingers. If we had 11 fingers, the 11th anniversary would be the big milestone." So we laughed it off and decided to take a trip for our 11th Anniversary. Somewhere cool, like Europe or Hawaii. But with our 11th Anniversary came another baby. And with our 12th came a missionary homecoming for Brent's brother that we felt we should attend. Finally for our lucky 13th anniversary + 2 months, we had a trip planned and booked. The old cliche "better late than never" comes to mind. My younger sister and her husband have been living in New York City for years, and had offered to let us come and crash at their place. We finally decided to take them up on the offer, since they might be leaving for graduate school within the next year. I sat at the computer one day, on the Jet Blue Airlines website, like a frightened child on the high diving board trying to get the courage to jump off. I quickly clicked the send button to buy the tickets before I could think too long or too hard about leaving my kids (especially 2 year old Ollie). So on October 17th, we were at the airport with only our baggage and our 3 month old baby, ready to fly east through the night on an adventure.
We arrived at the JFK airport at 5:30 am, New York Time...which is 3 hours before Pacific Time, so it was the middle of the night for us. Brent didn't sleep at all. I dozed in and out of sleep. Milo slept easily on my lap the whole way on top of the boppy pillow and wrapped in a swaddle wrap. The flight was completely booked and we didn't buy a seat for Milo, but it turned out better to have him sleep on the boppy pillow on my lap so I could keep him from crying the whole way. Everyone on the flight thanked me later, when we arrived and Milo never made sound. Did I mention that it was the best idea EVER to bring the boppy pillow? Because it was. Even though it is quite large. I stuffed it down into a fabric tote and shoved it under the stroller when we were en route to and from the airport. Otherwise, it stayed at my sister's apartment.
We had planned to ride the subway all the way from the airport on the far end of Queens, to Northern Manhattan, Harlem, where my sister lives. She had warned us that we might want to consider taking a taxi to her place, but our frugality won out and we were all set to take the subway- just jump in to New York City, over our heads, right from the start...our first time on the NYC subway WITH a baby and a stroller AND all of our luggage. My sister laughed at us, and told us she would come pick us up with her car-- even though she had never driven all the way out there and was a little nervous to do so. She got us back to her place just in time for her husband to take the car to go to work (north of NYC), and to get there on time for an important business meeting. Whew!
After we got to her place, we were hoping to drop off our luggage and get right back out there to start seeing stuff...but when we saw our bed, our bodies told us that we had jet lag and needed to take a nap. So we did. For four hours!
We left Heather's apartment through the back alley way, since we had our stroller and there is a ramp back there. As soon as we walked out the back door, I was instantaneously amazed! I looked up at the buildings and realized "WE ARE IN NEW YORK CITY!" I took this picture:
a kind of view that I've seen all my life on television, and now I'm seeing it in real life.
Being in New York City is surreal. It is strange. No city is as filmed as NYC. Around every corner something is familiar, yet I know I've never been there before. And then came the culture shock. Yes. NYC is culture shock.
N.Y.C. Sewer
We walked right up the hill from my sister's apartment building, turned a corner and there was the subway. Weird. We bought these metro cards which gave us unlimited subway and bus use for a week. I think they were about $30 each. To get on the subway, you just swipe your card.
In the subway with my sis
I didn't know what to expect. I didn't want to stand out, look like a tourist, or an easy target for theft; vulnerable. I didn't know what the people would be like, or if there was a lot of crime. I figured we'd be safe since my sister had lived there for 7 years just fine. I had all my belongings safely stowed under the stroller...but down in the subway...I just couldn't help myself! I had to get my big camera out and take pictures. Tourist.
The main thing that caught my attention was the fine detail: the tilework, the effort that was made to beautify this particular subway stop. And it was old! Oh, and it was also pretty dirty down there. But what would you expect? I had heard people say that NYC was dirty, but actually it seemed pretty clean to me...all except for the subway and the exhaust.
art in the subway
It was getting pretty late in the day and we kinda had a plan. We were going to catch a free concert at the Lincoln Center...us...and everybody else in the city. So the concert was full and we couldn't get in. We wandered around the upper west side, ate dinner, etc.
The NYC Temple
The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints
It's right by the Lincoln Center
We ate dinner right behind the Temple at a little place called Le Pain. That's not pain as in hurt, but bread in French. It was lovely. It brought back fond memories for both Brent and I of our summers that we lived in France. We ordered a cheese and bread platter. I HAD to. When I lived in France, it was the 90's...in the middle of the non-fat craze. I was so strict back then I did not eat one.single.piece of French cheese. Regret.
For the record, I pretty much eat all the cheese I want now. And all the fat I want. Healthy fat. Mostly.
Oh, for the love!
Milo hanging with Auntie.
spinach soup, very similar to soup I did happen to eat frequently when I lived in France
We wanted to take a picture of the cheese platter, but unfortunately we devoured it quickly before we remembered. It was just that good.
But we did get a picture of our pain chocolat:
...which was also very delicious.
After dinner we wandered around for a while, just taking everything in:
The Juiliard School...I stopped and had a little dream about one of my boys becoming a classical musician.
The Lincoln Center, where the opera, ballet, and symphony are housed. Along with other concerts and War Horse, the play was currently running. Very lovely at night.
We walked into Central Park, just a little bit:
tree, in central park, with city lights in background
...AND the pop art version of this picture:
I couldn't decide which one I liked better.
In this Central Park tunnel, we saw our first (and only) NYC rat. And Brent and my sis played around with the acoustics of the tunnel.
Just walking along the edge of Central Park,
there are fountains and statues and plenty of sights to see; plenty of people still out hurrying around.
This is Columbus Circle, the very Southwest corner of Central Park.
Gah! I was just completely amazed with everything. Overwhelmed.
Then, as I'm feeling completely amazed, we walk into a tall building before reaching Times Square, we take an escalator into the basement, and there is Whole Foods. All the healthy New Yorkers are out on a Thursday night doing their grocery shopping, buying local apples from an upstate New York farm (they were delicious- just the right amount of sweet-tart). Packing everything into a small hand trolley to fit into the subway with, and take back to their small Manhattan apartments. Culture Shock. Luckily for us, we had the roomy basket on the bottom of Milo's stroller. We could fit plenty of fresh, local produce in that basket. We were feeling pretty glad that we decided to take the bigger stroller instead of the umbrella stroller.
Then we left the store, rounded a corner...and there! Just right there is a stairway down into the subway again. Culture Shock.
I thought this was pretty funny.
It was the first (or second) indication that New Yorkers (or perhaps Back-Easters) don't really follow the particulars of the law. And the police don't really seem to mind. They let the little particulars slip...maybe because there are so many people, and many bigger things to worry about. We didn't see any crime. There were a couple of interesting incidents we encountered, like a woman cat fight in the subway station at night, and some gangster teens popping wheelies on four wheelers on the freeway. But other than that, a very pleasant, crime free city. With just the small particulars of the law mostly ignored. Interesting. Culture Shock {a little}.
Here we are in the subway near Times Square, about to head back to sister's place. I liked the art in the subway too. I found overall that I really liked subway art.
And here is our lovely stroller set up, with the bags of groceries from Whole Foods.
And here we are, back at the elevator in sister's very efficiently small Manhattan apartment. Tired.
Culture Shock. Woah! Subway. You have to be fast and a little bit pushy to be a New Yorker. We were almost unable to get off at one of our stops with the stroller because we weren't pushy enough to get off before the crowd of people started streaming on. We learned our lesson. New Yorkers must be very competent and bold to get what they want and where they want.
Good first day.
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