Top Ten New York Moments

Perhaps you are actually like me.

Perhaps… you’re noticing some changes on the Momsie… And you’re doing this:

“What? WHAT? Momsie is DIFFERENT! This is DIFFERENT! THERE IS CHANGE AND WHEN THAT HAPPENS I START TO QUIVER LIKE A CAFFEINATED CHIHUAHUA.”

Ok, take a breath (believe me, I am doing a lot of that too.) Let me catch you up:

MY BOOK IS AVAILABLE FOR PRE-ORDER AND HOLY CAFFEINATED CHIHUAHUAS I AM A MESS.

But, a mess in a good way. A perfect way, if you will.

Also, I really cannot spell chihuahua. Silly dogs. They quiver every time someone misspells their breed.

So, last week I went to the Book Expo in New York City, and I did all the cool author-book-signy things.

Also, I wore heels for a bit longer than I should have. There should be a warning label on those things.

Anyhow, without any more babble, here is my Top Ten Moments from New York, because that’s New York for you, it’s a Top Ten Moments kinda town.

MOMSIE’S TOP TEN MOMENTS FROM NEW YORK BECAUSE NEW YORK IS AWESOME:

10. IMG_8287.JPG

As one who has not had white flour in about five months, I salute you, New York sesame bagel with lox, cream cheese, capers, and onions. You were worth it.

9. IMG_8183-2.JPG

Well hello there, Mr….Stephanopikoikis. Stephfanipkikolus? Your name is right up there with the chihuahua, and you are just about as cute. So… tiny and cute and news-y. I just wanna put you in my pocket.

That sounds weird but he is kinda cute, no?

(It’s Stephanopoulos. Thank you, google.)

8. IMG_5491.jpegIMG_5493.jpeg

People, just look at the lighting. It’s all… “She’s all glowy!”

Also, look at her HAIR (blowout prior to trip, thank you, Jessica. You are made me all Breck Girl and I kept tossing my hairs all over the place because that’s what you do when you are Brecky.)

Also, that’s Patrick, marketing guy, on my right. He kinda looks like he’s asleep but he was just checking his phone. Which is kinda the same thing.

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This kid’s wardrobe choice for Sunday church. Totally random, but it’s the whole combination here. The shorts. The bow tie. The smirk.

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I am not a selfie taker but New York had me at hello. I was just so happy I had to record it.

Plus, yes, I am letting the gray come in. I like it. Don’t message me.

5.

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This church was across the street from my hotel. My first night there I ended up walking around the block – and ended up in a completely different area, unintentionally. I used this church as a beacon, because my google maps did not like my hotel location. I find this symbolic because I am a writer and I like symbolism. Plus, it’s pretty.

In my wanderings, by the way, I turned a corner and myself on Broadway. Perhaps tiny jazz hands happened. Perhaps.

4. I saw Dakota Fanning. Boom.

3. IMG_8266.JPG

Ok, I walked and walked and walked. I spent a good few miles on the High Line – a really cool walking park that had been created out of old rail lines. So gorgeous. And I ended up here. And then… my phone died. So all I have is one blurry, foggy picture of Lady Liberty. She was beautiful and I never get tired of seeing her.

Here’s the High Line:IMG_8261.JPG

2. Ok, when I was on the plane to New York I got rather stressed out because I realized I had no cash, and I KNEW I wanted to tip my driver. And I knew also that I wouldn’t really be able to stop and get cash once in the airport, so, as travel does… I was getting all stressed out about this. And so, I stopped, took a breath, and prayed, “Lord, can you help me figure out how to get cash for my driver? Thank you.”

Then I looked around and decided I would read. And lo,there was a letter from my moms in my bag and I thought, “Oh! Her letters are like ten pages long, so I finally have the time!” And I opened it… and …..IMG_8137.JPG

Y’all. She put cash in the letter. That thing had been sitting in my bag for over two weeks. It was just enough for a nice tip.

God really loves to do cool stuff like that, I bet.

 

And finally….IMG_8170-2.JPG

  1. This church (blurry because we were hustling to get there) is where I went at SIX AM for a recovery meeting. And it was awesome. Also, it was a block away from Times Square. Because, that’s how a Momsie rolls.

 

I am just so grateful and excited about this whole thing. Blessed beyond measure.

It was perfect.

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J is for Joyride

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grand tourismo.

Two weeks ago, I left mah babies.  I left ’em. I did.

And. Ya’ll?    It. Was. The awesomest.

It was the best leaving I have ever done.  It was so good, it wasn’t even an “I love you guys, mommah will miss you so much and gosh I am sorta sad I’m leaving” kinda bittersweet all “awwww” leaving.  Nope.   It was more like an Ethel Merman  “CLEAR OUTTA MY WAY FELLAS VA VA VA VOOM I AM SO OUT OF HERE I AM ALREADY LEFT” belt it out brand of leaving.  My leaving was paired with its own musical number,  an air horn, and some confetti.   At 4 a.m. I actually high kicked it to the car.  When I was patted down in the airport I just smiled and announced proudly: “My kids are at home!  Without me!”  The TSA guys were non plussed. But anyway!  I leaved so well that I kinda passed up the leaving part and just lived.

For three whole days.

In da Yew Nork Big City, ya’ll (as the blonde calls it.)

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It’s da statute of livery!

I am now going to write a book:

How to Leave Your Sweet Baybies in the Care of Well Meaning Husband and All Without an Ounce of Guilt, I Swear.

  Some chapters:

1.  The husband WILL feed them.  Even though he doesn’t seem to know where any clocks are. Or how clocks even work.   But the cat will remind him.

2.  Toothpaste can stand in as a snack.

3.  If you didn’t actually see the pee, it didn’t actually happen in the living room.

4.  Texting covers a multitude of sins.  Hearing those sweet baby voices is like reality television; once you get sucked into the soft timbre of three year old lisping, you’re on that phone every hour for another episode.

5.  Your blonde one will not resent you for missing his birthday.

Sigh.  I know what you’re thinking.  You were all… “You GO girl!! We all need time out for ourselves! We moms NEED that time away!  Look at you with your rollie suitcase and your new shoes from Target!  You even wore lipstick!  For the TSA guy!  You GO lady!  You GO on that trip and you… Wait. WHAT?

“WHAT KIND OF MOTHER ARE YOU? YOU LEFT YOUR SWEET FIRSTBORN ON HIS FIFTH BIRTHDAY? To prancercize your way around some big city?  Tramp.”

Hold on, I can explain. I guess. Sorta.  My girlfriends wanted to meet up in New York City. It was planned a long time ago, evidently prior to the creation of calendars because when I booked the trip I was completely unaware of one small conflicting detail:  the blonde precious one’s  5th birthday and all.

  Booking the trip and chatting crazily on facebook:  I was all.. I am so there.

My peeps:   *squealing*  “Yay! the girl from Kansas is coming!  Quaintness!”

 I was all…”This is so not in the budget.  But I am so there.”

They were all… “It’ll be OK!  It’s a chance to spend horrible amounts of money on cabs and shopping! Denial!  Denial! “

I was all… “So can’t afford this, but we could  Ebay the cat…”

Peeps:  “Yes!  Sell it!  Denial!  DENIAL!!”

I was all…  “But hmmm that date looks suspect – I think something mighta happened on it, like perhaps 5 years ago I spent a good 10 gajillion hours in the hospital trying to remove wee blondie from mah nether regions…??”    Oh, snap.

Still, I was all… “I’m going.   Yep. I am in.  Nether regions are all fine now, and I’MA  GOIN’ TO DA BIG CITY!  WHOOOO HOOOOOOOOO! Birthday smirthday.  I’ll pay for the therapy later wee blondie.” (And there went Momsie – step ball kick, step ball kick, right out the door.  Future Rockette.)

And my people, it was good.  It WAS.  The trip was one of those girl times that we need once in a while – full of non stop chattering and cupcakes and lox (not together) and excellent sights.  New York is alive and well, I have to to tell you.  That city has verve, I tell you.  And I never use the word verve.

Amidst its streets,  I suddenly had the superpowers to dodge and weave and hop into cabs as a New York heir apparent.  I even attempted to avoid looking  like a tourist by not snapping pictures every 5 minutes.  (Trying to take pix on the subway while also all cool and New Yorkie?  Doesn’t work. )

 And I was very very lucky to have a brilliant husband who kept the boys fed and watered while I was being ridiculous.

The JOY of spending time with these women.  Oh la la…

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I heart you, New York.  You big lug, you.

  So here is my Guilt Free New York City Top Ten:

10.  JFK has a lot of great shops where you can spend blood money on small plastic toys that will frost over that guilt with great big dollops of “I GOT PREEEEESSSSENTS MOMMAH IS AWESOME BIRTHDAYS CARRY OVER EVERYTHING IS ALLLL RIGHTY.”

9.  When you come from a small town with one (I know. But it’s awesome) stoplight, and you exit those big glass doors of the airport out to the street:  New York can be a bit… honkish.

8.  You start to talk with the accent real fast.

7.  The accent then starts turning all New Jersey.  It’s all right.  You blend.

6.  You attempt continuing with this accent when you get home because it’s awesome.  Weird looks occur.  Your ego shrivels a bit and you move on with your life.  Sigh.*  Good bye cool New York hipness.

5.  When your cab driver says, “Look, they’re shooting over there,” and you blurt out, “WHO?” and the guy chuckles at you, you realize you just hit the big fat tourist zone again.  No one is getting shot.  It’s a television show.  Be calm.

4.  WAIT… they just film stuff here, like all the time?  A little part of your brain poofs with the amazingness of it all.

3.  No one in New York has seemingly heard of tater tot casserole. This is madness!  I tried to explain the totty golden goodness,  and I was met with just silence and a lot of blinking.  This is a major flaw in the awesomeness of New York,  but I worked past it. Next time I’ll come bearing gifts.  Not sure how Mr. TSA will deal, but I can handle him.

2.   When you walk out of your Brooklyn bed and breakfast because it’s morning, and you want to go outside!  and then at the stoop you make weird eye contact with a  bunch of sullen slouchy dudes lounging up against their (?) cars and they just kinda stare at you…  and you opt for the next logical step: You start waving at them excitedly because, Wow!  This is rather different than your front porch back home!  Where are all the Big Wheels?   You realize you should be wearing a sign that says:  Overly Enthusiastic Tourist!  Very Happy to Be Here!  I’m Not Scared!

1.  You love this city.  Almost as much as you love the girls you are visiting.  The whole weekend is just an interlude of “Heart  and Soul.”

But here’s the best ending to the best weekend I’ve had in a long time:

Home.  Two a.m.  Front porch. Front door.  Squeaky floorboard.  Bags dropped to floor.  Up stairs.  Pat the cat.  Pat the husband.  Open green door. Two boys.  Strewn on the beds like Gumby dolls.  One red.  One blonde. Hugs and kisses on cheeks so soft and warm with sleep.  The scent of boy and sleep and soap and tossled hair.  Arms wrap around.  “Mommah… I am so happy.  You’re here.”

Joyride.

And then…  JOY.

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My heart. He’s five.

For those of you who would like to learn how to blend:

*How to Talk Like a New Yorker

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