World View

At the top of Notre Dame, Paris

Tuesdays at TravelinOma's "Back to School" are dedicated to travel, this week's assignment:

How has travel changed you? Prompt: After I went to ____, I felt differently about ___.

Almost all of our travel has revolved around visiting family, but for a few years, way back when, we saved and saved and somehow scored the greatest flight deal ever. Soon after 9/11 American Airlines offered a sweet deal: travel twice between New York and California or Florida and you received a free flight anywhere in the world. We contemplated Australia or Brazil, but settled on a less exotic, but still adventuresome Europe. Specifically Paris and Italy--for a month. Other than going to Canada twice (just over the border) it's the only time I've left the US.

It was a fabulous trip; we had a great time, ate the most delicious food, and saw some amazing sights. But I will always remember two instances that really changed my perception of my own country and my immature view of the rest of the world. When we rented an apartment for a week on the island Ischia we stopped by a tiny market to pick up some groceries. The woman running the store was sweet and wonderful. She did her best to help us purchase what we thought we needed. A couple of locals wandered in and out. A short, old man, wearing a fedora, smiled at me and asked, "Bush or Kerry?" I was pleasantly surprised that someone on an island out in the Mediterranean knew as much--possibly more, looking back--about the elections being held in my country. I had no idea who the president of Italy was! I don't think I knew who the president was of any country--except my own. But this happy old man did. It was humbling.

The second instance was when we were staying a couple of nights in Amalfi. One morning as Brian showered I watched a BBC special on television. They were featuring a story on North Korea and their hatred toward the US. This was one of those exclusive interviews, "never seen before footage" sorts of stories. I knew North Korea despised America, but goodness! Young children at school reciting, in unison, hateful rote. Billboards claiming all Americans must die. The hatred so deep, so thick, so impenetrable. It was a real eye opener for me. I learned a lot during my travels that month and I'm the better for it.

The C Train

I guess yesterday's writing exercise got my writing juices flowing. I woke up at 3:30am, aching with an abundant food supply for little Oliver who slept 8 hours (woohoo!) when he usually wakes and eats every three hours. Since I couldn't sleep, I wrote. Within a couple hours of practicing this is what came out:

The man, his dog & the C train.

As the downtown C train screeched to a stop at 59th Street the masses on the platform crowded at each set of doors; waiting. The steel doors slid open smoothly. People rushed in, playing musical chairs with the few remaining seats. A baby-face, gray-haired man slowly stepped in, a leather leash in his left hand, attached to a calm black lab. "BING-BONG" The door slid shut. The calm black lab on the platform, the baby-face, gray-haired man inside the train, the leather leash clamped tight in the unforgiving subway doors. We all gasped. Someone yelled, "Where's the emergency brake?!" The baby-face, gray-haired man was suddenly pail. His eyes frightened and powerless. He avoided our searching eyes and was completely silent. His Adam's apple swallowed heavy and nervous. The train lurched forward, the people on the platform yelled at the conductor, without success. We watched in horror as the baby-face, gray-haired man tugged on the leash. Surprisingly, he pulled it all the way in. We signed a breath of relief. Fortunately, someone on the platform was quick to act when he noticed the possible plight of the calm black lab and removed the leash from the unsuspecting dog. Fortunately, it all went down at an express stop where there were plenty of helpful observers on the platform, waiting for their respective trains. Fortunately, I did not have to watch a baby-face, gray-haired man loose his companion on my commute that day.

Within a month after moving to the city, before I had a child, Brian showed me a YouTube video of stroller being dragged by a train along a platform, its tire stuck in the subway door. The baby, luckily, was rescued from the stroller before the train entered the narrow, dark tunnel. I've witnessed groups of friends being separated by the quick closing doors. Once a child got on the train while her family was one step behind. Fortunately, that time the doors were forgiving (opened again after closing) and the whole family made it inside. As I travel daily with toddler in hand I remember, I fear, and I hold that tiny hand as tight as any knowing mother would.

Recently the uptown C train did not make its usual local stops; it went express from 59th Street to 125th Street. As the train rushed passed the 81st Street stop (The American Museum of Natural History) all the wide-eyed tourists whipped out their maps and chatted in their native languages (80% of the people on the train). Locals helped calm the anxious tourists and gave directions on how to get back. When we finally arrived at the 125th Street stop everyone dashed out of the train, hoping to catch the next downtown local train and get back to the museum. I decided to avoid the trampling herd and graciously waited. Newborn strapped to my front, toddler clamped in hand. Guiding my toddler in front of me, the doors closed, tight on my wrist. My toddler was on the platform; I was the frightened, powerless mother stuck inside the train, completely freaking out! In less than a heartbeat, a group of young men wrapped their big fingers into the doors and muscled them open, releasing me from my prison. Feeling nauseous, my mind raced as all mothers' do, "What if...?" "How would I...?" Fortunately it all went down at an express stop where there were plenty of helpful young men so I did not loose my most precious companion on our commute that day.

**Per Brian's concern for loved ones reading, the incident was not as scary and dramatic as it sounds. If you are not familiar with NYC subways, the train would not have moved as long and my arm was in the door. In reality, the whole thing lasted less than a second. Isabella has ridden the subway hundreds of times in her short life and this has been our only "close call". This might be considered similar to you barely avoiding a car collision in your daily travels.

Right Now

Having so much at the annual Morgan Stanley family party. This year is
a disco dance theme. Even with budget cuts they throw a pretty fun
family party!

Excuse the blurry photo...no flash on the iPhone.

Back to School

One of the blogs I occasionally read is offering some back-to-school "classes". I've decided to participate when I have a free moment, or two. Monday's are creative writing and I chose to simply list some writing projects I would like to undertake in the future. We are encouraged to post our work on our blogs; which is really quite scary for me. As a reminder to those visiting (and myself), the purpose of this blog is to record the adventures of me and my family. This is a personal endeavor.

Writing projects I'd like to do someday:

~The man, his dog and the subway door: how that almost happened to Isabella and me
~Cinque Terre
~Motherhood in Manhattan: lessons in sublime survival
~The influences of powerful women in my life
~Life on Leach Road: the scent of eucalyptus
~Isabella: my great grandmother, my daughter
~My dream home: love, peace, warmth and a garden
~The Humanity Project: short stories of kindness among strangers in a big city

Right Now

We are at the playground where my little one prefers to observe and
"write" instead of play...at least at the moment.

BMW

Brian recently rented a BMW from zipcar for a few hours. It was a lovely evening and a sweet ride. Isabella said she liked it because, "Like Grandma's car!" Oh sweetie, Grandma drives a Buick.

Why I love my job...

Need I say more?

I <3 Summer Streets

Like I said in the previous post: Brian watched Oliver this morning while Isabella and I went on a bike ride. Today is the last day of Summer Streets for this year. I think is was the first time I've had one-on-one time with Isabella since Oliver was born which made it super nice for both of us. We had a blast! I just took a few photos, but they were so fun I had to post them.




I'm already dreaming of next year: strapping Oliver onto one of our bikes so we can all go together! He'll be sporting the bumble bee helmet! Can't wait!

Seventh Anniversary

Last Saturday we celebrated our 7th anniversary (I can't believe it's been 7 years) by spending a beautiful day in Newport, RI. Brian's sweet sister watched Isabella for us and Oliver slept a good portion of our trip so we had the day to ourselves. It was fabulous!

We toured the Marble House

Took lots of photos

Went on a scenic ocean drive

Watched some amazing kite flying

And saw the beautiful sunset in Watch Hill

Right Now

We are taking a break from our bike ride during Summer Streets. We had
to stop at the Greenmarket for some Ronnybrook chocolate milk, of
course.

Thank you, Brian, for watching Oliver. We are having a blast!

Right Now

Insisting they are on the right feet combined with sandals that are
all-of-a-sudden too small make for some cute dangling toes.

Eye of the Tiger

Today Isabella was playing a game. She put it aside and said:
"I don't want to play anymore. I'm getting angry."
me: "It's best to stop playing if it is making you feel angry."
Isabella: "Yes, I'm turning into a tiger." She had fingers tense like vicious claws.

That explains a lot! Really! Amen for a little insight into my little girl!

Oliver's Photo Shoot

My sister recently said I haven't shared very many photos of Oliver. I was a bit surprised that she was right and I wondered why. The two reasons I can come up with is 1--He's the second child and extreme photo documentation is one of the privileges reserved for the first born and 2--Of the photos I have taken of him, to me, the photos don't really look like him. Is he not photogenic? Is it even possible for a baby to not be photogenic?

Today as Isabella was napping and Oliver was being as charming as ever I decided it was time for a photo shoot. Here are some favorites of my handsome little dude:





And, yes, I think these are an accurate representation of my sweet boy. Did you notice those adorably massive, chunky shoulders?

Oliver: 2 Months!

I really can't believe Oliver is already two months old! He had is 2 month check up this morning (and shots--awful!) and he's a whopping 12 lbs, 8 oz and 24.5 in long...about the size of a pumpkin (or an average 5 month old, depending how you look at it).

Yesterday Isabella and I were tickling him and he started laughing and laughing. LOVED IT! Newborn laughs=one of my all time favorite things in the world. Right up there with mint chocolate chip ice cream, blueberry picking, and kisses from Brian.

I love being a mom even if I feel like I might pass out from complete, utter exhaustion.

Now, I will go take a nap.

Right Now

We are at the Central Park Zoo, watching the polar bear swim. He's
very huge and very graceful.