Hello, New York!

NYC Trip 2011

Ok, so the weekend didn’t go exactly as I had planned. Does it ever? Nope. And I’m so okay with it. Maybe it’s because I got so caught up in the outpouring of love and support at my in-law’s. They took care of me like their own daughter and sister – as they always have. We ate good food, played with E, and I spent a good majority of my time either resting my foot, reading my true crime book (happy sigh), or shopping. We decided to stay over again Saturday night after taking E to her first movie (Frozen), which she loved!

By Sunday morning, I was still a little tired after getting up with E at 7:30, so I asked Mark if I could lay down after breakfast. I drifted to sleep at about 9am and woke up feeling more well rested than I have in awhile. I reached for my phone to check the time. 3:00PM!! I couldn’t believe it. I had slept for 6 hours!

So, my plans for getting home early on Sunday, picking up the apartment, doing dishes, catching up on laundry, and putting up the tree just weren’t possible. And I pretty much didn’t care. I slept. Really slept! Without being on high alert listening for E.

I went downstairs to find her happily running around at Nini’s house, being doted on by Mark, Nini, Grandpa, Bee, cousin Christian, and pugs Alfie & Waffles. Snow falling outside, hunkered down in the little brick house, warm woodstove, and toasted tuna fish sandwiches. Who could ask for more? I love Vermont! This family. This life.

We got home last night at about 5:00, and Mark spent a few hours cleaning the apartment, doing dishes, laundry, and washing the couch-cushion covers. E had fallen asleep in the car, so I woke her up to eat a quick dinner of lentil soup and crackers, then put her in a bath. After, we snuggled and read stories in “Mama’s big bed.” Perfect end to a perfect weekend. Once she was settled, Mark and I caught up on some TV and went to bed.

Back to reality this morning, though. I snoozed for as long as I could and finally rolled out of bed and made E a quick lunch of leftover lentils (Sorry, Ell!), cheese, crackers, and applesauce. I had to wake her up, so I picked her up, cuddled her in my arms, and rocked her in the chair for a bit. She was all smiles and happy to find out that she was going to day care this morning.

I got her out the door and made my new-diet smoothie (Sorry, Me!). Then off to work.

I pulled into the office parking lot in a dreary, turkey-hangover state of mind, drunk on love and a good-old-fashioned Vermont-country-weekend. I yawned as I pulled myself out of the car, work bags in hand. Then I noticed the huge delivery truck parked in front of the door with New York plates. The back was open, packed with cubicle parts (our office is expanding) and three 20-year-olds in Yankees hats, goatees, and earrings. One was yelling in a thick New York accent, “Hey, Tony!! Hey!! You take this cabinet. Whaddya mean, ‘Where does it go?’ You bring it upstairs!!” The guy next to him chimed in, same accent, “Yeah, why are we tellin’ ya this? You know! You know!! Go do it!”

Oh, the sounds! Truck rumbling, boxes sliding, exhaust filling the air (I breathed it in greedily), and a flurry of angry but soft Rs and rushed-over Ds. I closed my eyes for a minute and said under my breath, “Oh, hello, New York!” I resisted the urge to spin around in the gently falling snow, imagining skyscrapers towering above me.

As I made my way slowly up the walk (still favoring my broken foot), one of the guys in the back of the truck noticed me, elbowed his buddy, and yelled out to Tony again – who was now struggling with the front door, as he tried, on his own, to maneuver the awkwardly oversized filing cabinet through it. “Hey Tony!! There’s a lady coming! You better hold that door for her!” Tony rolled his eyes, and his buddies laughed, but he turned and gave me a big smile then painfully waited for me to make my slow journey to the door. “Sorry,” I mumbled.

“Oh, no! Don’t apologize! Tony’s got this,” they laughed, “and you be careful on that floor, Miss! It’s slippery!” I laughed too and gave them a thumbs-up.

As I hobbled in the door, in my mind I was skipping. They called me “Miss,” even amidst all signs that I was at least 30, and Tony held the door for me, amidst a constant threat of being crushed by a filing cabinet. I love Vermont, I really do… but there’s nothing quite like a little dose of city-style chivalry and harsh comradery on a Monday morning. Ahh, I love New York!