This is M. on her way to summer camp at Curious Jane (she’s loved it, by the way, highly recommend for next summer.) Chrissy‘s been taking Jasper to the bus for pick-up in the morning to Park Explorers, which has also been great, as he’s thoroughly exhausted by the end of the day. Everyone happy and tired = good times for the moms.
Anyway, I do pick-up for both kids in the afternoon, and our route home takes us past 8th Avenue and 8th Street in Park Slope, site of the first apartment I ever stayed in in New York City when I came here to look for a job in book publishing in 1991. I pointed it out to the kids, who’ve been fascinated by the idea that I could be staying in a strange apartment without them or Chrissy, and instead with two guys named Keith and Doug.
I’ve realized this week that means I came to New York twenty years ago exactly — it was August, 1991. In fact, I think there’s a good chance it was even 20 years ago this very week. That brings a few things to mind.
I could go on.
After our glorious month away in July, we’re back. Really back. And while I don’t know that I’m quite ready to get out there and take on the city with the kids, I’m starting to think in that direction.
Via Mommy Poppins, here’s what looks good to me this weekend:
* The Muppets Take Manhattan and Jim Henson’s Fantastic World at the Museum of the Moving Image
* Word for Word Kids: Night of the Butterfly at Bryant Park
* Winnie-the-Pooh’s 90th Birthday Bash at the Children’s Center at the New York Public Library
And what’s more on my mind?
Getting to know An Expat Mom Living in Paris.
Deciding whether or not I need this striped Lazy Maze Tunic by Bordeaux from Anthropologie.
Sampling for myself Gwynnie’s recipe for Grilled Chicken with Peach BBQ sauce; I made the sauce yesterday and the kids gobbled it up with the chicken last night; tonight we’re throwing it on the grill for the moms.
Twenty years. OK.