This past weekend, I had a luxurious three days and three nights away. Away from the kids, the house, the laundry, even the husband. I went all by my lonesome up to NYC to see some friends who have nine-month-old twins. In New York. In a one-bedroom apartment. And yet somehow they were still willing to let me crash on their sofabed. Those are some seriously good friends. Going to New York by myself? That is so cool. But me? Sadly, not so cool. Here’s the analysis:
Cool: Pizza in New York! The best pizza in the world! The coolest!
Uncool: The fact that I have to eat pizza with a knife and fork because I am congenitally missing my top lateral incisors, so if I just bite into pizza, the cheese tends to slide off into my lap or (more likely) onto my boob shelf.
Cool: Attended a party with the lead singer of The Strokes.
Uncool: Didn’t know it was him until after the party, because it turns out that hipster indie rock stars look pretty much like everyone else when they are at a two-year-old’s birthday party with their own kid, so I didn’t even get to tweet about it.
Cool: Went to Century 21, a store I have known about and loved since waaaay before they talked about it on Sex and the City.
Uncool: The Lincoln Square Century 21 is smaller than the one downtown, so it doesn’t have a plus size department, which is where I need to shop.
Cool: Finally tried bubble tea
Uncool: Wondered why people like these weird little slimy balls of mystery substance in their smoothies and how on earth this became a trend.
Cool: My bright purple coat in the suburbs.
Uncool: My bright purple coat in Manhattan.
Cool: The fact that I could walk New York with the best of ‘em with no residual muscle soreness the next day.
Uncool: The shoes I had to wear to make that true.
Cool: The fantastic photo I took of my friend’s 9-month-old baby sleepily holding the subway pole like a pro from inside her stroller.
Uncool: The fact that the subway is more interesting to me than it is to a 9-month-old New York baby.
Cool: Being treated like Daddy when I came home. Hugs, kisses, running jumps into my arms, extra snuggles, and grand proclamations of love.
Uncool: The next day when Daddy went back to work and the kids realized I was still just the same boring Mommy they always have to hang out with.