Baby in Galleries
Two months ago, I was in New York City to see some dear friends and meet their new baby. It was a whirlwind trip--in Friday, out Sunday. We had a lovely day at the Met on Saturday, and this is what I wrote in my journal once we got back to our hotel room.
Lovely day in New York. Here to see Arin and baby Alli before we leave the coast. We drove into the city from Westchester County and the she had on all of her jewels. I've never been here when the city was so green, the trees heavy with summer.
We found a miraculous parking spot on the Upper East Side and walked to the Met. I pushed Hen in the stroller and she stopped people in their tracks with her cuteness, as she tends to do.
She had a little foam W she was playing with and chewing on and she kept dropping it. I'd have a feeling she dropped it and I'd turn and see it there in the middle of the gallery, a security guard advancing to pick it up and return it to us.
I held her hands and walked her through the galleries, crowds of people parting around us. I didn't even look up to make sure they would. I just proceeded, Hen's tiny feet slapping forward like a dainty Frankenstein monster.
When it was clear she was tired, I fed her, then put her in the stroller with a blanket and wheeled her around rather briskly so she would sleep. I got the brilliant idea to turn on the white noise app on my phone to the ocean waves she's used to and placed it in the stroller. Her eyes were closing, narrowed to slits, and I made laps through a darker, uncrowded part of the museum. We blew past decorative tables and lamps and vases, and I was so proud of myself for knowing how to do it, for being the mom and knowing how to get my baby to sleep that I could hardly contain myself. I wanted to stop people and tell them how clever I was.
On a small elevator, on our way to meet Arin and Lucas and Alli in the Impressionist galleries, a woman looked up and all around her, then asked, in a British accent, "Is that the sound of the sea?" I was so pleased to tell her that it was.
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| Pretty Hen at the Met |
Lovely day in New York. Here to see Arin and baby Alli before we leave the coast. We drove into the city from Westchester County and the she had on all of her jewels. I've never been here when the city was so green, the trees heavy with summer.
We found a miraculous parking spot on the Upper East Side and walked to the Met. I pushed Hen in the stroller and she stopped people in their tracks with her cuteness, as she tends to do.
She had a little foam W she was playing with and chewing on and she kept dropping it. I'd have a feeling she dropped it and I'd turn and see it there in the middle of the gallery, a security guard advancing to pick it up and return it to us.
I held her hands and walked her through the galleries, crowds of people parting around us. I didn't even look up to make sure they would. I just proceeded, Hen's tiny feet slapping forward like a dainty Frankenstein monster.
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| Pretty harp at the Met |
On a small elevator, on our way to meet Arin and Lucas and Alli in the Impressionist galleries, a woman looked up and all around her, then asked, in a British accent, "Is that the sound of the sea?" I was so pleased to tell her that it was.
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