I still love New York. But seeing it through a child’s eyes is to see New York in a whole different way. Charlie brought his book about New York and a “bucket list” of things he wanted to see. We did all  of them.

The Statue of Liberty was so exciting. We discussed why her dress was green. We got a commemorative coin that was copper and the exact thickness of the copper on her dress. Charlie wished we could go up inside, but we were unable to get tickets for that. The boat ride was so exciting, and Charlie and his parents went up on the top deck in the wind and rain. Grampa and I stayed inside.

Charlie loved the Empire State Building. He went with Grampa and his mom. I am too afraid of heights, so Birdie and I napped.

One of their favorite things to do at night was to perch on the windowsill and whisper to one another as they watched for their parents to come home from a dinner meeting. They saw a pigeon land on the roof of the bodega below and spent at least ten minutes imitating the bobble-headed walk. And of course, we all danced to Baby Shark until we were exhausted.

FAO Schwartz still has the big piano. Charlie danced on that. 30 Rock is the most beautiful place. We looked down on the diners sitting in the moonlight, sipping wine. My daughter remarked, “That will be us in twenty years. None of those people have kids. I want to be down there.” She said that right before Birdie ran off and nearly dashed into the street.

Birdie got into:

  • My deodorant
  • Lip balm
  • Her crayons and marked on the sofa
  • The drawer in the kitchen with the corkscrew
  • The baby wipes; shredded about a thousand of them all over the apartment
  • The folding chairs from the card table and used them as impromptu jungle gyms
  • The toilet and the fact that an entire roll of toilet paper will really clog it up. So fun!

We had delicious food. Thanks to Lyft, I was able to go shopping all alone and not worry about how to get to Fishs Eddy, Marimekko, and Bloomingdales and back to the apartment. I felt like a native.

I have decided that I could most certainly live in New York. Caveats: I would have to be wealthy, live in a brownstone with a garden, have a much better wardrobe than I do now, enjoy eating outside despite pigeons and intrusive little sparrows, have a different husband–mine would never consider living in a big city, enjoy noise, and tolerate this factoid: when you are in NYC, no matter where you are, there is a rat within six feet of you.

Hello, DAYTON!

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