NYC Hates Babies (Part 1)

A couple weeks ago I decided I should take a five-hour train ride with my one and three year old into New York City. My friend Erin lives in Long Island and we were going to visit her and explore for a few days.

The day before we left, fit hit the shan. Violet started cutting two teeth and I got poison ivy and mastitis in one fell swoop. And I realized I had accidentally bought tickets for a "no checked baggage" train. So everything I needed for the three of us for the next four days had to fit in one carry on.

I had already declined travel insurance, so we would be on that train no matter what.

I didn't know if the train or subway aisles could fit a double stroller, so I decided to wear Violet in my carrier and push Harper in the single stroller. Monday morning we got to the train station and I decided to keep the girls in the carrier and stroller while we waited because the train would be there any minute.

An hour and 15 minutes later the train showed up. Good work, Amtrak. But by some strange miracle the girls did awesome on the train. (I'm planning another post in the next few days about what worked and what didn't work at distracting them while traveling.)

When we arrived at Penn Station in New York I loaded up the girls and my one carryon and looked for the nearest elevator to take me to street level. I headed towards one and was promptly stopped.

"You can't use this elevator," said a security guard. "This one is for people who are actually handicapped. You just have a stroller."

He pointed me towards an elevator in another part of the subway. Eventually we made our way outside and got some bagels. While waiting at a cross walk a young businessman was walking towards us while texting. He nearly tripped over the front wheel of my jogging stroller.

He looked at the stroller like it was a foreign object he'd never seen before. He scoffed and told me to get a job as he walked quickly by.

"I have no applicable jobs skills," I yelled after him. My degree is in journalism, after all.

I thought maybe it'd be best to get to Erin's house after a long day of traveling so we went back to Penn Station and got on the Long Island Rail Road. Harper fell asleep in the stroller and Violet was asleep in the carrier so I decided to stand for the 40 minute train ride. I found space for the us on the platform next to the conductor.

When my stop came I turned the stroller around and started out the door. As soon as I got the stroller out, the doors started closing on my arms. So Harper in the stroller was outside the train and Violet and I were inside. I looked around for help. There was no way I was letting go of that stroller. A couple nearby people yelled for the conductor to open the doors.

"You're closing the doors on a baby," the woman yelled, which might have been an exaggeration, but it got his attention. He opened the doors.

"Sorry, I didn't see you," he said.

"I was standing right next to you," I told him. He shrugged.

I cannot print what I said next. I have since repented.  Here's my bruises (a few days later) from having subway doors closed on my arms:

Thankfully Erin was waiting for us in the parking lot. We made it to her house without further incident. And time at Erin's house was exactly what we needed. She has an uncanny ability to make anyone and everyone feel immediately at home in her house.

We spent the next couple of days catching up, relaxing, eating pizza and going to the beach. Here's Violet savoring her pizza. There is so much savoring going on here:

On Thursday we decided to head back to NYC. This time Erin and her one-year-old son Patrick would be joining us.

Stay tuned for Part 2 of our adventure. It only gets better. And by "better" I mean "ruder."

What's a Little Groping Among Friends?

A few weeks back we all traveled to Ohio for a good friend's wedding. Beforehand, I went over the obvious rules for attending a wedding with Harper.

1. No yelling during the ceremony.
2. No running.
3. No touching the cake until it's cut.

In hindsight, there are a few more rules I should've added.

At the reception, the bride and groom, Nora and Erick, sat at a small table on a raised stage. When Harper spotted them, she asked if she could go say hi to the princess. I told her she could and she took off. I watched from my table as Harper, somewhat shyly approached their table. Nora turned and saw Harper and smiled.

Harper took a deep bow. She was really taking the princess thing seriously. I smiled and nudged Nick so he could see. There's something heart warming about when your friends meet your babies. It's like everything comes full circle. I smiled to myself and rested my head on Nick's shoulder.

And then Harper put both hands on the bride's chest.

Oh God. What does she have on her hands?! Was my first thought, since she always has something on her hands. Then Harper's little friend Brynlee followed suit and both girls were collectively feeling up the bride.

Oh crap! Not Brynlee too! What was on her hands? Did I see her eating chocolate earlier? I think I did. Great, now I'm going to have to sell my kidney on the black market to reimburse Nora for her wedding dress. I wonder how much a kidney goes for...

But I didn't want to sell my kidney, so I sprang into action. I pass off the baby to Nick like a quarterback hands off the football. I hurdle the chair in front of me and blow past guests so I can kindly stop my daughter from accosting the bride.

When I get there Nora is laughing, "I love her," she said.

I look at her dress. No dirt. No food. No whatever else lives on Harper's hands. Nothing had transferred to Nora's amazing gown. And in typical Nora fashion, she was sweet and gracious and thought the whole thing was hilarious. Harper and Brynlee said goodbye to the princess and made their way back to our side of the room.

Brynlee's mommy and I were college roommates back in the day and we had our share of fun. But I can honestly say that we never co-groped someone. In 15 years when our kids are roommates, I'm hanging this picture in their dorm. What a great start to the next generation's roomie antics.

An Oldie But a Goodie

This is Governor. He is an idiot.

I'm gonna take it back a couple years with this next post. This happened a few months after Harper was born. Being a new mom, I thought the incident was out of the ordinary. Little did I know crisis management is a weekly, if not daily, occurrence. Ignorance is bliss. Enjoy!

Anyone wondering why I was directing traffic on Joshua Lane today, allow me to explain: 
My chihuahua, Governor, decided to chase the mail truck, thus stopping traffic on both sides of the road. With Harper in my arms, I went running after him and once he realized he was in trouble, Gov took a permanent position underneath the mail truck, refusing to come out. To alleviate the congestion, I started directing traffic while holding Harper wrapped in a towel. My little angel had just gotten out of her second bath of the day because during nap time she pooped with such force it shot out her diaper, up her back and into her hair. Once all the cars passed, Gov emerged from under the truck and rolled over. I scooped him up and the three of us made it back safely inside. 
Clearly, I'm living the dream.