My Real Life

Last week was Spring Break, and originally, my plan had been to take the monkeys into the city to see the Harry Potter exhibit before it heads out of town in April.

However, at the last minute, Monkey Girl and I were invited to go into the city to see “Annie” on Broadway.

We said ‘yes’ and spent last Wednesday in NYC with a good friend of Monkey Girl’s and her mom.

We had a blast.

Julia and her friend are two peas in a pod, and I was able to overcome (I hope) my general social wonkiness and appear to be a semi-normal person.

However, the trip in reminded me just how long the train ride is, and thinking about Tiny on that train for that long made me begin to get a little tic.

I talked about it with Julia’s friends mom, who I think I can safely now call my friend, and she shared with me something she and her husband used to do when her kids were little.

They’d take the train just a few stops toward the city to a town that had a park and a playground at the train station.

They’d play for awhile, get some lunch in town, and then head home.

My boys are always asking to go on the train, and we haven’t taken them, except for once, a few years ago, and this seemed like a great solution and a nice, little adventure.

Also, kids ride for half price and Tiny was free, so the cost wasn’t prohibitive, which is always a concern when you have four kids.

So, Saturday morning, we woke up, told everyone to get dressed and headed to the car.

Now Saturday morning happened to be the same day that this happened:

…so, before hitting the train station, I picked up a few papers at the store.

The cashier already had seen the front page when I walked in and said “Oh my gosh!  I saw this was you and I’ve been telling everyone, ‘She comes in here all the time!'”

I. Felt. Like. A. Rock. Star.

I bought five copies and off we went.

When we pulled into the parking lot of the train station, the boys were beyond excited, but were a little apprehensive, as well.

Baby Monkey was concerned that the train might be too loud.

Monkey in the Middle was sure we didn’t know what time it was coming, that I didn’t buy the right tickets, that we wouldn’t be able to sit together, that we would miss our stop, etc.

That’s traveling with Monkey in the Middle, though.

I had clued in Monkey Girl the night before, so she helped us out with assuring the guys it would all be okay, and, as you might imagine, Baby Monkey just kept asking “Where we goin’?”

The train came, we got on and the kids loved it.

I’m not sure what it is about my boys and modes of transportation.

Cars, trucks, trains.

They love them all.

This was no exception.

They looked out the window, marveled when the conductors voice would tell us the next stop, watched the ticket takers with fascination, and couldn’t believe how quickly we made it from town to town on the train.

And Tiny continued to ask “Where we goin’?”

We got to the correct station, hopped off and hit the park.

We played for what felt like forever, and then decided to have lunch.

We hit a bagel shop, got fruit, bagels and sandwiches and had a great lunch.

Headed back to the train station, twenty minutes early, where I told everyone to go to the bathroom, but no one had to go.

Five minutes before the train was to arrive, guess what?

Monkey in the Middle suddenly HAD to go.

We ran for it and he made it.

We got back just as they were making the announcement that we were on the wrong platform, so we booked it up the stairs, over the bridge and back down on the other side just as the train pulled in.

The ride home was much quieter:

Tiny didn’t even have time to utter “Where we goin’?” before he fell fast asleep.

Nice little trip, half day, good times.

It was a nice reminder that you don’t always  have to go whole hog when trying to do something special for the kids.

They appreciate the effort of anything, and something as basic as this can turn into an adventure they’ll never forget.

(Even if the thing they’ll never forget is the woman who was pulled over by two cops, taken out of her car, and the put in the back of the police car after a very wobbly walk on a straight line.  Real Police action beats any other adventure any day.)