THE CITY IS A CLASSROOM

And the home of the brave! 

On Wednesday we had one of those days where we needed to be out of the apartment for a solid six hours so stuff could get done, which meant we got to wander around all day looking for various things to entertain ourselves with.  

First we met my friend Lynne for lunch. Three things of note here. The first: We showed up wearing the same exact shorts, which was splendid. Two: Lynne had never had the Shake Shack before?! And C: MADISON SQUARE SHAKE SHACK STILL HAS CRINKLE FRIES.

Lynne is the designer of Cardigan NY, and these shorts. So I guess it wasn't that weird of a coincidence.

Then Lynne had to get back to work and Huck had decided he wanted a pet snake named Hooky, but first he needed to run through the water at the Madison Square playground in nothing but his undies. Clearly our priorities are in check. It was pushing ninety degrees and it felt like a sauna out, so while he ran around I obviously did nothing but think of those giant refrigerators they have in restaurant kitchens. And then we decided to walk clear across the island to check out the Tara Donovan exhibit at the Pace Gallery, because by now it was only 2:00 and we still had three hours to kill.

And here we have Huckles the Great being a good sport about things, his drying undies flapping in the breeze from his scooter handles with fanfare. A few minutes after this shot he sort of slumped over the handle bars in a very dramatic fashion and slowly rolled to a stop and said, "MOM. I'm SO HOOOOT. There better be snakes there."

No snakes, but yes paper mountains. 

No snakes, but yes these gorgeous things.

The way the light played off this piece was enormously magical. Huck tiptoed all around it, peeking in close and then saying in a hushed whisper, "Wowwww!"

We talked about art and all the different ways you can make it, how Tara might have cut up all those squares of paper and where she might have found all those plastic dowels, and the feelings you get and all the different things art can mean to all the different people who see it. I showed him a coffee table book of Rothko's watercolors and we talked about his own watercolor paint set at home, and picked out the colors he had in his own pallet and strategizing about the fun things he could try next. 

And then as we were on our way out the door the security guard stopped us and said to us out of the side of her mouth, "Yoko Ono is right behind you. Go back through the exhibit again. Go go go."

So , Yoko Ono is very small and very adorable and had on the jauntiest little black felt hat, worn at a very precise little angle on her head. It was all rather fantastic. 

So, no. No snakes. But yes Yoko Ono. 

After that was over we wandered around Chelsea aimlessly until we found ourselves in the fur district by accident, which is a crazy strange place by the way. And then fur district ended right at the area of midtown where I once bought myself a bag of human hair, so. That was something. 

We stopped in at a cafe to share a croissant some air conditioning, and to talk more about snakes and guzzle cold bottles of water. And then we decided to visit the New York Public Library and see about some snake books. And now here comes my stupid story about the library. Are you ready?

Well, so we got distracted by the ABC of IT exhibit which is still running, and we were wandering through having a grand old time, but when we got to the comic book section I noticed that one of the glass tables was making this weird sort of ticking noise? Tick tick tick tick. I couldn't figure out if it was part of the exhibit or if maybe we were all about to die? And then I had to be like, Natalie. Let's be very real here. What are the chances that bombs even tick anymore. What is the likelihood here. Something tells me... no. But anyway, you don't live in New York and visit popular tourist attractions without sometimes freaking out over stuff, so I took Huck's hand and we found a security guard and we let her know what we'd heard and off she went to go investigate while I explained to poor Huck that, no, there would be no snake books, because, see, bombs probably don't tick but if they did and we blew up, well, that would make me a pretty bad mom, now wouldn't it. 

Somehow it got to be 5:00. Our six hours were up. I was having grand visions of Frosted Mini Wheats for dinner with Sour Punch Straws for dessert, and Huck needed to pee. And so we walked home.

Good work there, Empire State Building.

Tomorrow I am supposed to register my child for pre-k. Oh pre-k, damn you pre-k! Tomorrow is the last day to accept the spot we were given, the spot many parents would maim for, and here I still haven't found the right answer. Tonight as I was snuggling with Huck before he fell asleep, I asked him what he thought about going to school in the fall. He seemed open-minded to it, and I was starting to think that maybe this could be my answer? Maybe he'll really want to go, and then I can encourage him, and I can let him grow up as fast as he wants to grow up, and maybe I should just be proud and grateful for whatever life hands me. So I started to describe what his days would be like. Walking him there, dropping him off with all his new friends and teachers, his backpack and special desk, and learning new songs and playing new games and painting and drawing and recess after lunch, when all of the sudden Huck started to cry. His little hands were covering his eyes and he said rather pathetically, "Why can't you come too? I want you to be with meeeee!" And then I thought, well, could this be my answer?? 

It's a funny spot to be in, where you want your child to succeed and grow and reach, but you also want to tuck them under your wing a little and never let them leave. And it's a silly spot to be in, this all-day pre-k nonsense. Going would be really great for him. Not going would also be really great for him, our play school group for next year is going to be rocking. So all of his options are good which means none of them are wrong and I can't predict the future and this is like trying to decide between a hot cocoa and an ice cream cone months in advance when you're not even sure what the weather will be like. 

Huck and I, we are such a great team. We're pals, we have so much fun. I just love this time as his mom; just us two against the world, exploring the city, thinking about snakes, sharing croissants and talking about art, and singing Row Row Row Your Boat very loudly from 10th Avenue all the way to Fifth. He is getting such an education out here, on the daily. And so am I. And I don't want to be selfish but I also don't want to be coerced into doing what might not feel right for my family, and anyway. That was my Wednesday. Very, very wonderful. Very, very sweaty. And what a funny thing to have this big brave boy who is mine. I have so many wonderful decisions to make, and so many new and scary things to experience, not to mention an expert knock-knock joke crafter by my side 24/7.

"Hey Mom, say 'knock knock.'"

"Okay. Knock knock!"

"Chicken butt!!!!!"