I No Tired, Mommy

This weekend, we took a bus to the subway to The Gym Park.  First the bus. We missed the first bus even though MTA Trip planner clearly told me to be there at a certain time. But let’s face it. Getting a toddler out of the house in a timely fashion is not possible. Even if you start an hour before hand. The continued negotiations on the shirt. No, Mommy. I want that one.  I put it on. Then the pants. Then, I want Pincess, Mommy.  (Translation: Princess refers to anything that has a ruffle.  The Pincess she was referring to was her pink tutu.) Off we went, the tutu squeezed into the stroller.

We make the next bus, and my unlimited metro card has expired. The back up card has only 50 cents on it. Fortunetely, the coffee runs that week left me with a lot of change. So I had to pay in quarters and nickles.  And I ask for a transfer.  45 minutes later we get off in Long Island City, and have to transfer to ever reliable G train.  (That is sarcasm!)  Now, it’s the weekend, and there are no attendants, so basically I have to squeeze a toddler, the folded up stroller, and a diaper bag into the turnstile.  Take 1: I swipe the transfer card.  Transfer not valid, the helpful turnstile tells me. FUCK it all! I have to buy a metro card. And I have to do this, while trying to keep a toddler from stepping away from, leaning a stroller against the machine, holding a diaper bag, and trying three different credit cards because the stupid machine wouldn’t read it.  Then wouldn’t you know it, a train just arrives, so a throng a people emerge from the depths of subway. Again, trying to hold a toddler, a stroller and a diaper bag.  Take 2: I swipe, and pray to God O doesn’t push the turnstile, or she will be on one side and she will be on the other. We make it, we ALL make it in one over-sized group.  We make it down the stairs, slowly, and get on the train.

We finally make it to the Gym Park, where O, unlike the last time, she was all over the place.  She was on the ring, and swinging.  She walked on the balance beam.  She jumped and jumped on the trampoline.  She jumped from circle to circle on the floor.  She did more jumping on the trampoline.  She balanced on the double bar (it was set up close to the ground). I was really impressed with how much she could do.  And I was really happy to see that she was more independent and more outgoing.  There were lots of other kids there too. And although she didn’t really get involved with them, she was less nervous around them.  Oh yeah, and she was obsessed with the purple hula hoop. Her version of having it roll around her waist was to hold on, and spin her entire body including the hula hoop in a circle. Cute. Fortunetely, she doing much better than I was with the hula hoop, so all the more power to her.

Then we went back on the subway, and then on the bus.  On the walk home from the bus stop, O was prepping me that she was not tired. O no tired, Mommy. I no go sleep.  The whole time she was informing me that under NO circumstances should I try to put her down for a nap. Clearly, running around for 2 hours and the 1 hour commute each way was not enough to make her tired.

As soon as we got home, I gave her a bottle of milk, we watched Elmo, and she was out 15 minutes after that and slept for TWO hours!

I guess she should have prepped herself too for no nap.

I have to say, the weekend commutes SUCK. Even less subway kiosks open. And going up and down the stairs with a stroller, my back still hurts.  The worst of all was these two hipsters at Greenpoint Ave stop who did not even offer to help with the stroller.  But they did find time to smile at O. I gave them a dirty look. Even though O is really cute, a helping hand have been more appreciated than a freaking smile.


About RidgewoodMom

Thirtysomething mom of a baby girl. First and only baby, possibly. First baby amongst my close friends. These are the trials, frustrations and lessons I have learned in raising a single child in New York.
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