Let me start from the beginning.
The inspiration came to me as I was checking out the LB website for upcoming tv appearances. There was a concert. In the city. "That be fun," as DS says. We liked her CDs, watched her DVD, and saw her on Noggin and Jack's Big Music Show. Everytime we passed a certain clump of trees outside the library, DS would sit down and start singing, "Under a Shady Tree." I always invoked the dinosaur song, with "stop and take a rest," during naptime. We loved to play chase to "I'm Gonna Catch You," ever since we first heard that song at a church playgroup. Surely we were old enough to sit and listen to our favorite musician for an hour.
I told my friends and my playgroup, and three other families thought "that be fun" too. On the day the tickets went on sale, DP was charged with securing the best seats. Then the Carnegie Hall website crashed, sending panic throughout tristate suburbia and preschooler parents everywhere. But got the tickets we did, eventually. DP swore she wasn't going to be the one parent to turn up ticketless. I think it took her an hour. By then, we had balcony seats, but all the way at the front. This made me a little nervous, given our propensity for throwing things and climbing, but surely there would be enough distractions.
For weeks, we discussed ideas for the day (being the New Yorkers in the group--her by birth, me because we were living in the city on September 11. Yes, Mom, I'm still a Texan. It's a paradox. And another post.): driving, train, or a combo? Would we travel together as a group and have lunch? We learned it was NYC Marathon day. Hmmm, that made driving a challenge. So we were going to drive halfway and take the train the rest of the way. But the availability of seats on the way in and the traffic on the way home squashed that. So, train all the way it was. Where to eat? Something toursity and predictable like Hard Rock? Or take our chances with local cafes. Finally, we decided Carnegie Deli would work for our allergies, with turkey and matzo ball soup.
The day arrived--beautiful, especially after the hurricane that was Day out with Thomas--and the kids were excited. They loved the train ride in, even enjoying playing "fort" in the shelter on the platform with DP as we waited for it to arrive. Perfect facing window seats let each of them have a window and they looked out excitedly identifying clouds, trees, cars, trucks, boats, and bridges. And talked about all the people and what they were wearing--the man behind us, fully decked out in Redskins paraphenalia for the game, was the "Red Man." Apropos, no? Actually, looking around the train--with the orthodox Jewish family next to us, several Asian men, and several African Americans--reminded me of the importance of leaving our rather uniform small town (where we are the diversity for others) and visiting the menagerie of the city. Though, I soon became rather uncomfortable with the "talk about the people" game and issued a "it's not nice to talk about other people" edict. I could just hear them saying something about someone being big or old.
They loved walking off the platform into the giant space that is GCT. DD just stood there, mouth agape, spinning around looking at the stars and all the people. DS was a little overwhelmed and needed us in hand for the walk to the subway. Which they loved. DP let DD hang from the overhead bar, the city's littlest straphanger. DS followed suit and they (and the other, probably out of town, riders) laughed all the way to Carnegie Hall.
And we got out in the crisp, cool air of a beautiful fall day, surrounded by imposing, impressive skyscreapers. The sidewalks were full of cops and pedestrians heading to the marathon, with taxis and buses and cars heading away from the closed streets. And, oh, that NYC smell. We walked towards CPS and got lots of orange doo-dads from the ING people--hats, glasses, and pom pons--to cheer for marathoners. We didn't see too many, just a few men and women in the wheelchair cycles. But DS wore his hat and waved his pom pon each time they passed. DD was more interested in the smell. I had realized I could smell horses and so she started sniffing and then kepty asking where they were. A pile of manure proved they had been there recently.
Lunch was at Carnegie Deli--corned beef for me and DP, turkey and matzo ball soup for the kids--though both ate more pickles than anything else. And DD liked the corned beef more than the turkey; she is DP's daugher, afterall. And as lunch ended, DP realized the waitresses were talking about the twins in Thai, so she interjected and suddenly we had a whole coterie of waitresses admiring their skin color and wider-than-almond eyes--"not the slit eyes of the Chinese''--DP held her tongue. And the kids said "Sawadee" to them all.
And it was time for the concert. At Carnegie Hall. Ironically, it was my very first concert there. And it's beautiful, even filled with crying toddlers missing their afternoon naps. We got two "Shaky Eggs" to play with and then tried desperately to wait for the doors to open. The poor house staff; I'm not sure they're used to preschoolers running and climbing everywhere and they were so flustered. They even opened early, I think, because of the mounting chaos in the lobby.
Our seats were frightening--first row, top balcony--perfect for dropping shaky eggs or programs on other preschoolers, or whole toddler bodies. Did I mention I don't like heights? I'm sure I scared the kids with the death grips in which I held their little excited bodies.
And then some guy talked. Yadda-yadda-yadda. We need Laurie! Don't you understand we were up an hour early because of the time change? That we walked and left strollers at home? That we didn't nap yet? This concert needs to start and finish before BREAKDOWN time.
Later, DD told us that Laurie wore yellow and Susie wore brown. DP didn't even know Susie's name. But then she doesn't know all the words to "I'm a Mess" either. And they played guitars. And the piano. DD sat mesmerized and stared at it all. DS did too, as I bounced him on my knee and sang the songs. Most of our favorites.
But we lost it before "Pig on Her Head." And I could see the pig sitting on the prop table so I knew it was coming. But DD was done. And then DS didn't want to be there alone. And we quickly took a cab to GCT, where we caught the same train we would have if we'd seen the whole thing.
And I cried all the way there, just as they cried all the way home on the train. I was disappointed. I wanted to see the concert. I wanted it to be this memorable, amazing experience. And we didn't get to see it all. And they weren't happy; indeed, they were miserable. And it was my fault. I had dragged us to this concert, thinking it was such a good idea. With no strollers, with no nap. And I was embarrassed, ashamed even, in front of my friends, not because the kids were upset but because it hadn't gone well, because somehow I had done something wrong, because I had failed my kids.
The next day, all they remembered was how much fun they had. That Susie had worn brown. And Laurie had played the guitar. That we had sung and danced. And they had ridden in a taxi. That be fun.
