"Well, the flight is full." The stewardess who uttered these horrible words offered no pity, no sympathy, no understanding of what it had taken for us to get to this ticket counter. It seriously took everything that I had not to burst into tears right before her uncaring, pursed lips. But if I was honest, I can't say I was surprised. The whole trip to New York always seemed like it wasn't really going to happen. Hoop after hoop had to be cleared well before we ever stepped on a plane. First we had to "see about" our buddy passes from a very gracious friend, then we had to pack everybody and everybody's shirts, shorts, socks, shoes, diapers, wipes, sippy cups, toys and drive 6+ hairy hours to Grandma's house. Then Ian had to work remotely for a few days so the little guys could get used to things on site and quit keeping everybody up all night when we, er, abandoned them. Then Grandma and the aunties would be in charge of our four under four for four days, a feat that undoubtedly would be the hugest favour in the world except that Ian and I have to do it everyday and we just wanted to celebrate our 12-year anniversary with a special trip
(even still, it was a huge favour!). So while we were exhausting ourselves flying all day Thursday, flying back Sunday and then driving 6 hours back to LA, we were supposed to be having a good time. Yes, it really did seem like somehow, this was not going to happen. And maybe that was a good thing.
The day before Ian had sat me down and said that it might just be too stressful for us. And too glitchey. Why didn't we just call the whole thing off and drive up to a nice little place around San Francisco where we could get some sleep? After all, wouldn't it be best to rest, and, as Ian's Grandpa put it, New York isn't exactly a "sleepy little town." I wavered, I came close to relenting... why did I insist teetering us on these ledges of craziness? Who in their right minds would be doing all this to fly across the country for, like 2 days when it really came down to it? I had justified the trip in my mind because we were flying on buddy passes and we had a free hotel night we were using, but on the other hand that kind of travel is glitchy. Maybe the risk wasn't worth it... what if it totally backfired and we got stuck somewhere, or the kids were too much to handle and we couldn't get home? Maybe... hmm...
But then I got a funny feeling that we needed to go for it. Life was short. We may never get back to NYC for years and years, we didn't call on family too often the way every other 2x2 mom I know does, and whatever happened, just being together would be fun. Nobody was talking me off this ledge.
I was regretting all of that big time when we got to the airport and found out that the flight load, which our buddy pass benefactor told us looked "fine" the day before, was full- 149 seats were gone out of 150, and there were 3 standby passengers ahead of us. I ran to the phone to cancel our hotel, only to find that we would have to pay $509 for our "free" night, way more than it was actually worth, if we didn't show up, and the'd also charge us for the second night.
Again, it was all I could do not to burst into tears.
The best part of the trip happened right there when Ian just smiled at me. He didn't get mad, he didn't say "I told you so", he didn't even sigh or roll his eyes. He just smiled and said "let's go for it, whatever happens, we'll be together." He knew how much I wanted to go to New York, how hard it was for me to leave all those years ago, and how much I had been looking forward to our trip. So he just went with it. I know it wasn't easy for him to look so positive. And I have never loved him quite the way I did right then.
As we waited to get onto the flight to JFK and I saw how crowded the gate was, I just knew we weren't getting on, but I said a fervent little prayer that we would. In the grand scheme of things this was a pretty ridiculous request, but if there was any possible way we could get to New York so that we could have a wonderful time together and strengthen our marriage and make some good memories, to please please please let it happen.
As we sat watching the hoard board my heart was simultaenously sinking and pounding so loudly I was pretty sure everyone could hear it. Just before the desk closed the stewardess said that we did have a chance. PLEASE! I thought. PLEASE!!! NOBODY ELSE MAKE IT!! And, then, suddenly, moments before we were supposed to take off... she handed us tickets. And not even two middle seats at the back, these were two seats right next to each other at the front! One of the other standbys had canceled and another crew member had switched his seat so we could sit together.
I felt like we were walking on the clouds. By some miraculous miracle, we were going to be going to New York after all.
That turned out to be just the beginning. Our trip was perfection itself of an embarrassing variety. We didn't have any ugly run-ins that are so typical of this aggressive, type-A city. In fact, we kept noticing kind deeds- a group of people scrambling to help someone with their suitcases on the air train, a man in a hurry stopping to help a young mother with her stroller off Prince Street, some people helping someone with their crutches by Washington Square. And everywhere we ate was the best food we had eaten in ages. We started laughing about how it got to the point where we'd just be meandering around and turn a corner thinking oh, what's here? Oh, something else that's going to blow my mind. We'd hit the most outstanding chocolate shop or pizza parlour or cupcake bakery. Everything was amazing. Including the weather.
June is typically a cloud of humidity, but our days were perfect. Unbelievable. Sunny and a little warm with a baby breeze. And our trip was the best kind, we didn't do any of the 'big' things, like climb the Statue of Liberty or do the Empire State Buildiing, we just soaked in all the little things that make New York what it is. I sighed in deep comfort at the unique, musical little squeal of the subway train as it was pulling out of the platform. I never noticed how much I missed it. I loved seeing the kid with the white-boy fro who set up shop on the Brooklyn bridge, typewritter in lap and a cardboard sign saying POEMS FOR SALE taped to his stomach. I would have loved one of his typed poems, but a crowd of people beat me to it so Ian and I made up our own poems, his were so
good I thought he had gotten them from somewhere else.
I loved the amazing pizza we tried at 'KESTE' which means 'THIS IS IT' in Italian, and how all the people who served us were authentic Italians who spoke Italian to us like of course we'd be Italian too, and the crisp crust that gave way to chewy softness inside and ooey gooey cheese that tasted like the mushrooms it was paired with. And how we wandered into a cafe when the US vs. Slovenia World Cup game was on and the emotion of the crowd took us into its embrace as they went crazy for the 2nd goal and wept with despair at the robbery of the third goal and how instantly we were a part of things. Even wandering through Dean and Deluca and laughing at the $170/lb Waygu was such fun. Everywhere hydrangeas were blooming, sending their sweetly invisible scent in the air and all the people in all the parks were talking earnestly about their relationships, and we were strolling around, hand in hand.
On Saturday afternoon we went to an old favorite, Doughnut Plant, in the lower east side and got lavender, blueberry, tres leches, and peanut butter-glaze & blackberry-jam filled doughnuts with blueberry lemonade on the side and took a taxi up to the Bethesda fountain in Central Park for an impromptu picnic, driving past all the crazy places I used to work and laughing at all the crazy people I used to work with.
We drove past the building where I was when I watched the towers fall, and the building where I got my first paycheck in New York and sang "if you can make it here..." and we went to the bridge by the Dakota where we got pictures taken a million years ago when we were young and just starting law school and Ian still had most of his hair.
It just felt like the city was unbelievably generous to us. Strangers offerred us unsolicited subway information that saved our skins, lines to amazing restaurants weren't too long, the return flight was perfect, although after that first scare we cut our trip short a day so we could get onto a less crowded one, the "free" hotel night really did not charge us one penny, and every single minute was colourful, amazing, and precious. I do miss New York, after all these years I can't believe how instantly I felt at home again, but I'm inexplicably glad we're not living there. With our 2x2 situation it would be quite horrendous. But I'm so grateful that I do have a little bit of crazy ledge-jumping in me, and most of all that I have a husband who, when the moment is right, totally goes along with it. Also, amazing family in Sacramento who kindly and graciously watched our little guys so well and so uncomplainingly everyone was happy and safe and had no desire to return home. I'm glad we went. Somehow, this time, everything did work out.
The temple was amazing. We lived through all the renos but moved right before it was finished.
" by Katrina Kenison. It's about slowing down, scheduling empty afternoons and creating close, meaningful relationships with our little people. She tells a story of 'the breakfast tree', which was a tree that she and her mom sat in one morning with a breakfast picnic to welcome the day together. " ...we both recall the magic of that morning, how lovely it was. Over the years, I've come to think of the breakfast tree as a symbol of my childhood and of what I loved most about being a child-the kind of casual, daily intimacy with nature that was simply a way of life, a way of life that I took wholly for granted then and for which I am deeply grateful now. I suspect the breakfast tree symbolized something for my mother, too-it was a point of entry into my child's world, a place where a busy mother and a little girl once took in the world's wonders together, in a spirit of shared adventure and discovery."
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