Part 3! Trip to NYC. I still didn't get to meet Glenn Beck.

If you're just joining us, scroll down a few posts and start from the beginning of this intense saga!

NOTE: If I can't wrap this narrative up in this post, it's over and I'm afraid you're just going to be out of luck. I just can't write more than three posts about one single day. It isn't natural!

Let's commence with our story:


***We join our heroin having just arrived at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City. She has walked half the length of Central Park pushing a double stroller all so her second son can use a clean restroom to take care of some #2-related business!***


We leave the restroom (having NOT fulfilled our original #2 mission) and head for the main floor. My idea is to walk to the European Paintings exhibit (my favorite) and see as much as I can before the boys implode from boredom or get bodily removed by a docent. To that end, I'm walking through a gallery of ancient statues (hoping Max wont knock any over) when I see something miraculous;


(once again, cue spotlight and choir of angels singing "Ahhhhhhhhhh!")

My own personal miracle rained down upon my head because I'm such a darn good person and because I righteously post to my blog at least 2x a week...













(are you just dying of suspense?)













The exhibit in the next gallery is titled...



























Superheroes: Fashion and Fantasy





I'm saved. My boys glimpse Superman from afar and both tear off into the gallery. Yes, that's right. My boys are in a museum and they're excited and happy to be there. If you don't see the miracle in this, you haven't met my boys.
The exhibit is showcasing some of the original SUPERHERO costumes used in movies. Like the original Superman costume Christopher Reeve wore. And the Spiderman costumes Toby Mcquire wore. (Red and Black) Plus a bunch of Superhero inspired costumes and outfits made by famous designers for runway shows. And at the end, some old school comic books on display.

We spend the next half hour slowly walking through the exhibit and discussing the various Superheros and why they do what they do and wear what they wear. The boys recount to me all the commercials they've seen for various action movies and tell me all about the new IronMan movie which I've never even heard of. (His costume was on display also.) We also have a short discussion on modesty and free agency thanks to some of the ladies costumes on display. (Put 'em away, CatWoman, 'ya little minx!!)

When we leave the gallery, I get ahold of Doug. He's on his way from Brooklyn and is coming straight to the museum. I'm excited thinking maybe when he arrives he'll take the boys and let me go to the European Paintings gallery by myself.

So, I lazily find a bench near the front entrance and sit down to relax for a few minutes. Meanwhile, Karie and Lori have finished their celebrity meeting and are also headed in my direction. They got to go to Glenn Beck's studio, meet him, and then stick around and watch in the booth as he filmed his night-time news show. The (appropriately named) Glenn Beck show. Karie assures me it was the coolest thing ever and I would have loved it. I plan to kick her in the shins at the first opportunity.

A few minutes later, a man in a blue coat approaches us and announces "It's 5:15. The museum is now closed. Please head to the exit." Fifty blue coat clad employees suddenly materialize from nowhere and form an impenetrable line shepherding everyone towards the exit.

Doug calls. He's just arrived and wants to know where to find me. They almost don't let him in the door but he points and waves his arms towards me and they let him pass. We exit the museum together only to find that Karie and Lori have also just arrived. They, however, don't even get as far as the main lobby. Those blue-coated museum workers are serious about their jobs and they're not letting anyone keep them from going to dinner!

We walk and talk together for awhile, then go our separate ways. The ladies have dinner plans with a friend, and Doug and I just want to find the most kid-friendly place we can. (Which is no small feat.)

Thus we come to the end of this saga. (Actually, the saga continues until we roll into our driveway at 1:30a.m., but we've come to the end of the interesting part.)

Overall, it was a fabulous day. Sure, I wanted to curl up in a ball and cry a few times, but that's a pretty average day for me.

I'm VERY glad I got to see my sister one more time before leaving for Japan.

I'm also surprisingly sad that I wont be seeing New York again for a long long long time. After spending a week there when we first moved East, I feel down-right nostalgic about that city!

Well, once again, I've stayed up well past my bed time. All so I could bring you this life-changing blog post. I hope you appreciate my sacrifice in missed sleep! (Sure, Doug let me take a 2 hour nap today, but that doesn't mean I'm not still tired!)

I'll be posting again soon with more adventures from the lives of the Dubs. Only hopefully with less verbosity.*

Word to your Mother! (It's still technically Mother's Day since I haven't gone to sleep yet.)

goodnight!

*ver·bose /vərˈboʊs/ –adjective
characterized by the use of many or too many words; wordy: a verbose report.

PART 2 Trip to New York when I DIDN'T get to meet Glenn Beck!!!

***After seeing a few sites and grabbing some hotdogs and ice cream from a vendor, it was time for Karie and Lori to leave for their meeting with Mr. Beck.*** (Switch to 1st person narrative)

Karie and Lori drop us off at one of the (many) Central Park playgrounds and are gone. Suddenly I'm on my own with three rambunctious little boys in quite possibly the LEAST child-friendly city in the country.

Now, two summers ago when we stayed in the city for a week, I was alone with the boys all day while Doug was at "work". But then I only had two boys. And since I have two hands, that was okay. But now I have three boys (see where I'm going with this?) and I do not have three hands. (Nor did I bring the kid-tether a.k.a. kid-leash.)

None-the-less, things are going great. The big boys are having a blast and Gabe is loving the baby swing.

Even potty breaks are no problem. In fact, the big boys don't even bother to consult me when they need to go!

Then things take a serious turn. Sam needs to go potty.

Again.

But not "pee-pee" this time. If you see what I mean.

So we need to find an actual potty fast. I may let my kids pee in public, but I have SOME limits!

I look at a map posted near the entrance of the playground. I see "The Met". (cue spotlight and choirs of angels singing "Ahhhhhh!!!")

I think: "It doesn't look too far away. And I'll bet the bathrooms there are better than park bathrooms. Plus, I just want to go back to "The Met". (How hip am I for calling it "The Met"?)

Gabe and Sam are dumped into the double stroller, Max grabs on, and off we go. I walk about 10 long, hot blocks before asking someone carrying a museum bag how much further it is.

Answer: 12 more blocks.

Max is whining, dragging his feet, and begging to rest. We stop for a minute.

I think about giving up and heading back into the park to find a bathroom so I ask a vendor where the nearest restroom is.

He says--while gesticulating in a North-North East-South Westernly direction--"Over down der".

I ralley the troops and we keep going towards the museum.

Did I mention it was 12 more blocks?

Did I mention that Sam+Gabe+DraggingMax+Stroller+2 backpacks=MeTired?

Eventually, we make it to The Met and it is a beautiful sight to behold. All except the huge stone stairway leading up to the front entrance. That for me and the stoller...not so welcoming. Fortunately, they have a Wheelchair/Stoller entrance. (Possibly the only one in a 17 mile radius.)

Once inside we head straight for the nearest bathroom where Sam informs me he no longer needs to go #2. I believe his exact words were "No! I dough need to sit down! I dough need go poopoo's! Just peepee's, Mom."

WELL WE COULD HAVE JUST TAKEN CARE OF THAT IN THE BUSH!!!

But whatever. We're here. Where I wanted to be.
Except it's not even remotely close to anywhere the boys want to be.

And then, I'm blessed with a miracle. (Cue spot light and choir of angels singing "Ahhhhhh!")

Only I'm not going to tell you what the miracle is.

Yet.

Because it's 1:30 in the morning and, despite it being Mother's Day, I will have to wake up and go to church in a few short hours where I get to teach Max's class of 12-28 six-year-olds.

And because I'm so tired it's taking me an average of 14.3 minutes per sentence and I'm pretty sure my spelling and puctuation have begun to suffer horribly.

So as much as I wanted to finish this dang post, it'll have to be continued.


Again.




goodnight!