Okay – so here’s what happened.

Basically, everything went according to plan! Which is amazing, when you factor in the two toddlers, total age 30 months, (one two and a half year old in New York City is problematic enough) and the thirty-degree weather (with wind chill…who knows how cold it was?)

We had a great visit at the pediatrician’s office; the boys have had colds for about the past month and a half. I have put it down to the lovely play groups I would not be able to live without constantly re-infecting my pumpkins, who have, jointly, the terrible habit of picking a sippy cup off the floor, checking it out and then sipping away – whether or not it belongs to them. Hmmm. Can you say please give me your cold? As a result, they have had runny noses for the past month and a half. The upshot is (drum roll) ear infections for both boys. Now, I have been busy patting myself on the back that extended nursing has prevented this miserable specter of baby and child hood from rearing its ugly, infected head, but I guess snuffly noses and congestion for extended periods of time bring on otitis media, even with the best preventative measures in place. So, we had to stop at the pharmacy and get the required bottles of pink bubble gummy antibiotic we all remember from our own infected childhoods.

We were on our way by 11-ish and made it to the parking garage on 57th street by 12:30. A quick aside regarding this garage, if you’re ready? Whenever I say garage, I like to say gah-RAGE, because back in the eighties, when New York was gritty, dirty and of 20 people polled 18 said they would love to move out of the city, but couldn’t afford to move, back then I lived on Manhattan. I lived at the very northernmost tip of the island, in a very unfashionable neighborhood that I called Dominican Crack-Ville after the hood’s population and main livelihood. (My building had two white families and me. The rest of the over ninety apartments were occupied by Latinos. I have nothing against those of Hispanic descent, my own sister in law is Hispanic, but it is somewhat disconcerting to move from the sheltered area of New England where I spent many formative years to one of the most notoriously drug ridden sections of a major city, where there are smoke shops on the block next to my building. By “smoke shop” I do not mean a place to purchase cigars. I mean a place with a bullet proofed cashier booth and glass pipes on display.) Anyway, I used take cabs home very rarely, it was about $20 it was so far from anywhere I wanted to be, so when I did, I made sure to gape out the window so as not to miss a glimpse of what was usually 50 feet above the normally Subway riding me. One night the cab was heading to the Henry Hudson Parkway and I saw the neon sign for the 57th Street garage. The G and the A were burned out and it read 57th Street RAGE. Hmmm.

So, anyway, we got to the garage and the restaurant right on time and Miss Fabulous was waiting for us. I have actually been to this Indian place before, and the DH thought the food was great. (He loves spicy cuisine and he told me later he had to visit the men’s room twice on account of the curry’s power. I told him he might have eaten too much, especially of the lamb, which had burned a hole in the metal serving dish, but he said he liked it spicy… ) The babies were highly entertained by watching the cook make bread in a gen-yoou-ine coal fired oven and pull it out with his bare hands. Geez, I’m glad I’m not a cook anymore.

After lunch we walked over to Rockefeller Center, took a tree picture, then I went into Saks Fifth Avenue on my own while the DH went to get the car.

My goodness I have forgotten how richly glamorous the New York lady who shops at Saks can be! You could barely turn around without your path being blocked by a mink or fox fur clad creature fondling a $3,000 handbag. I went directly to the Ladies’ Lounge to give the boys a snack, and then went back down to the main floor to the millinery department. Alas, the hat I had seen was sold out. But I did get to try on a bunch of Daniel Boone style raccoon hats for some dude who said he needed to get a sense of how they fit. Apparently the hat was a gift for his wife, who has short short boy short hair like mine. The one he liked best I liked least, and the saleslady agreed. She looked very pleased when I picked up a hat with cashmere lining that he was not considering and said, “Now THIS one is really nice and it covers the ears.” Apparently, she had told him that the hat with cashmere was the best right off, but he had picked out the other ones. So I reinforced her excellent taste. She gave me a wink as I left; the dude was buying the cashmere hat.

Anyway, the DH called me as I was leaving the Cosmetics Department, I told him we were finished and he pulled up outside the store on 50th Street, right where I was standing. Nicely done, Honey Bun. (But I found out later it was a big deal for him – his first time driving in New York, without a guide and without a map. And I just hopped in the car and said, “Okay, now let’s go over to Park and up to the Met. It’s on 5TH Avenue at 80th Street.” The poor guy was probably still sweating bullets from driving over from the parking garage.)

Then we met my sister at the Met, the babies oohed and ohhed and made grabbing gestures at the Angel Tree, then we had a snack in the new café. By this time it was 4:00, and we thought it best to get going. So we drove the DS (Dear sister!) to her car, about ten freezing cold and windy blocks away, as she directed us to her car in her usual big city style. (Get going people! We’re going to miss the f***g light! And so on.) Then she said, “Follow me!” and off she zoomed, cursing and shaking her fist out the window at busses and cabs alike. (No, I’m kidding. She didn’t shake her fist at the cabs…she flipped them off instead.) We made it back to her house in good time, with just a quick stop on Madison Avenue to try on this other hat, which they had in stock and which looked sooooo chic. Here it is, I may get it in black, whattya think? Click here

We arrived chez DS with relatively happy babies, but hungry babies. They had napped in the car, obviously not wanting to witness their father screeching through the Manhattan Streets, chasing their Aunt at 60 miles an hour. They were up, ready to eat and play and have a bath; just like any other night at home. With the addition of two cousins, natch.

The next day we had planned on going back to the city to go to Fairway, and do some other bits and pieces, but the twenty-degree weather proved a deterrent, so I satisfied my exotic grocery shopping desires at Mitsuwa and Whole Foods. I know Whole Foods isn’t that exotic, but it’s nice and where else can you get weird snacks like these except at a Japanese market?

All in all we had a fine time, got home yesterday at 7:00 PM, and my babies were so happy to be home they played extra hard today. Which meant one baby fell off a trunk, biting a hole in his tongue and getting a big, purple lump on his forehead and the other baby dove off the top step, of five steps, landed on his head and hands, flipped over and came down on his bottom on the floor. I had a friend over for coffee at the time and she said, “Did your baby just do a handspring down the steps? Wow.” Fortunately, he does not appear to be injured, nor does he act distressed in anyway. I checked him out – no fixed dilation of the pupils, no vomiting, no listlessness, no unusual sleepiness, and no unusual pallor. Therefore, no second trip to the ER. Which is a good thing; I have had quite enough excitement for the time being. The New York trip was a great success, but was rather exhausting. I am going to need at least two days before we do anything thrilling again. For my next adventure I am planning on….well, I won’t say yet. I’ll just say, “It’s midnight…Do you know where your holiday decorations could be?”