in 18 hours. Yup 18 Hours. 7 of those hours were spent sleeping and 7 more driving. To say the trip was a whirlwind is something of an understatement. But it was eye opening in more ways than one. So, to set the scene of this adventure, a little background information;
First off, this trip began as me simply picking up my sister from college in NYC. Nothing too crazy. But then I got to thinking, "Wouldn't it be great for Jesyka to see the city in all its Christmas glory?" (Jeskya is my little from BB/BS) So the trip became, pick up Corrie from school, bring Jesyka with me to expose her to something entirely new and totally cool. And then, to add an element of insanity to the mix, the day I am supposed to pick up Jesyka for a sleep over at my apartment so we can leave at the crack of dawn the following morning, Corrie calls me and says she just got tickets to see the New York Pops at Carnegie Hall for the show that night at 8pm. Long story short, a phone call is made to Jesyka's mother to ok the new plan, Jes is picked up, and we haul ass down to NYC to make the show.
Apart from the sudden change in plans, everything went smoothly for the first 5 hours or so. We didn't hit traffic (thank god), no car trouble, Jes behaved on the trip, we found a parking garage (a fricken expensive parking garage, but a safe place for my car none-the-less) and we were out in front of the theater with half an hour to spare. Corrie met us at the door, tickets in hand at 7:45.
Now at this point, it seemed as though Jesyka was thrilled with how things were going. She oooed and ahhhed over the skyscrapers and the buildings lit up for Christmas. The sparkling trees reflected in her eyes the excitement only a little girl in a big city for the first time can feel. People, bundled for snow and dressed for a million Christmas parties rushed past us as we awaited Corrie's arrival in front of Carnegie Hall. And of course, in just moments she would walk through the golden doors of the theater and experience the thrills of a concert she had put on her Christmas best to attend. I had no reason to consider the fact that this might be rather overwhelming for a ten year old who has never been more than 30 miles from her house or her mother. I was even patting myself on the back a little bit for my adaptability and for not getting pulled over on the way down despite speeding almost the entire way. I was doing something great for Jesyka, exposing her to culture she has never known before, broadening her horizons, showing her all the wonderful places she can go. Man, I was a role model!
Well, I was about to get a rude awakening. We took our seats in the red velvet chairs of Carnegie Hall, the brass fixtures gleaming around us. The stage sat ready, awaiting the tuxedo-clad musicians that would soon file out and take their places. The lights dimmed, the hall went silent and the conductor burst onto the stage, his brocade jacket and sparkling velvet pants sending dancing twinkles of light onto the walls of the hall. The musicians tuned and made ready their bows and horns, and then it began. Christmas music filled the air, each note perfectly in tune, each syncopated rhythm perfectly on cue with the conductor's hands. For four songs they continued and after each song, the room erupted into thunderous applause. I looked over from time to time, and Jeskya wasn't clapping. I attributed it to her not knowing the proper response in this sort of situation. So I said she should clap. I got a half-hearted inaudible effort. Oh well.... nothing to stress over.
Another song goes by, and I begin to hear sniffling next to me. Jesyka had a cold, that must be it, her nose was just running..... a little more sniffling, a little louder. I look over to find her with big, fat tears rolling down her cheeks, trying hard to cry quietly, and losing the battle. Sudden panic hits me.... she's CRYING! I feel awful at this point. What on earth could be the matter? So I asked the obvious question, "What's wrong Jes?"
"I want (sniffle) my mom (sniffle, heart-breaking lip curling into a distraught, totally out of her element, sad face.)"
Completely new to this child-crying-in-a-public-venue thing I ask, "Are you ok, do you feel sick?"
"No, I want to go home, I miss my mom"
"Sweetie we can't go home right now, we have to bring Corrie home remember. You know what we can do though, as soon as we get out, we'll call your mom and you can talk to her ok?
"Ok."
This seemed to quiet her for the moment, but another song later and the water works were up and running again, this time with a little more potency. But thank god, after the next song ended, INTERMISSION. We got up and headed for the restroom. Of course, the line was already twenty women deep. But we used this time to compose ourselves and regroup... we made a plan to call it a night at the theater and head back to Corrie's apartment, watch a little TV and go to bed. Once back in the lobby, we called Corrie to come and meet us and then put Jes on the phone with her mom. And wouldn't you know it, she said about two words to her. No tears, no, I miss you I want to come home. By now the doors to the theater were closed again, so it wasn't an option to go back in, but Jesyka was now acting fully herself, like nothing had happened. What the Heck?
So instead of being serenaded by the NY Pops, we ended up walking around the city and seeing Manhattan- the Christmas wonderland version and stopping at a bakery for a shared sticky bun. This seemed to cheer Jesyka considerably so I won't count the night as a total loss, just a reminder that despite being a fun person to hang out with on Sunday afternoons, I am not her mother. And no matter what things I try to expose her to, there will be a certain level of comfort found in the familiar. I just hope when she looks back on the trip someday, her first to NYC, she remembers Time Square at Christmas, the size of the Virgin Records store, how people raised a hand and a Taxi Cab pulled right up, the sparkling trees-bright enough to light a room, and the wonder of the big city, not how I traumatized her at Carnegie Hall. I suppose you can't win em' all.
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