Nervous Mom, Fearless First-Grader Visit Manhattan

This trip came together in a herky-jerky fashion, if you ask me. We were fresh out of another COVID isolation (yeah, it’s still a thing) at home in Oregon, and itching to get out of the house. We weren’t literally itching, that'd be poison ivy or chicken pox or some other malady.

My best friend from high school, Corinne; her husband, Tommy; and their 21-month-old daughter, Luna, would be visiting Manhattan, and they graciously invited us to join them for a few days. When I asked my daughter, Josie, if she was down, she put one hand on her hip, cocked her head and belted Taylor Swift’s “Welcome to New York.” Thank you, kindergarten PE coach, for indoctrinating my daughter.

New York After College: When Our Days Revolved Around the Night

I’d visit Corinne (and others) in NYC during our twenties and early thirties when she lived in New York after college (Brooklyn, Harlem, Upper West Side). In that season of youth, our days revolved around the nightlife: the vintage clothing store with DJs and a disco ball; a place called Beauty Bar where they had vintage salon chairs; sipping Cape Cods at a cozy Greenwich Village bars while Tommy DJ’d; attending a David Bowie tribute show and more.

So when I pictured bringing Josie to town, there were a lot of unknowns, like what is New York like in the morning?

The first few nights, Josie and I stayed near Corinne’s family apartment on the Upper West Side, at The Art House Hotel  on the corner of Broadway and West 77th. The rooms were less than $300 per night, even after I upgraded to a supreme room with a view of Broadway. If there’s anything I’ve learned from traveling with a kiddo, getting space for a home base, and one with a view, is an essential. That choice actually worked out well. I was able to give Josie time to play with her kitten stuffies, while I planned our immediate next steps and how exactly we would get to see Alicia Keys’ musical, Hell’s Kitchen.

How was the hotel in Manhattan?

The Art House Hotel was fine, and having stayed on a smelly boat in the Florida Keys , and other unsavory vacation experiences, fine is dandy. Was it exactly as boutique and quaint as I’d envisioned? No. It’s an older building with some wear and tear. But here’s the thing: the view was pleasing and offered an 8th floor look at other historic building facades nearby. The bathroom was small but upscale. The bedding was white crisp cotton and the bedroom room was quiet and clean with pops of pastels. The staff was attentive. All in all, The Art House was a solid, safe base for exploring the city. And our rooms came with free croissants each morning, which my child loved. More on croissants later.

The last couple of nights, nostalgia drove our accommodation choice and we rolled our suitcases and Josie’s stuffies from The Art House to Corinne’s apartment, roughly 10 blocks south. The idea of rolling our belongings through a mile of the Upper West Side felt very intimidating, but I told Josie and reassured myself that we could always hail a cab if needed. Then, the further we rolled our bags —Josie scooted — I told myself, ‘pretend you live here and it’s laundry day.’ And a few blocks later when my worry resurfaced, I’d say, ‘I'm very particular. Not any laundromat will do.’ Chronic self-delusion gets a bad wrap, but it sure has its upsides.

Central Park remains my favorite place in Manhattan. With my six-year-old child, Corinne, and Corinne’s toddler, we wandered the park and it never got old. Well, it got hot and our feet swelled up, and I taught Josie the benefits of a ponytail, but we kept the good times rolling through long summer days.

One thing I did not know beforehand, is that many of the playgrounds within Central Park have splash parks or areas for water play within them. And it was hot, in the nineties some days, so we all got into the water to cool off. The kids loved it and got fully soaked. There were times Josie scooted in her pink mermaid suit between playgrounds. Corinne and I mostly stayed on the perimeter, cooling our feet in the shallows.

• Adventure Playground – Gentle, shaded, sand and water play

• Billy Johnson Playground – Glad they fence in the fountain, play area

• Le Pain Quotidien in Central Park — Your ticket to longer park stamina (for adults and kids): teas, mattes, croissants, fruit cups and more right inside the park.

• Strawberry Fields — Buskers play The Beatles. Luna napped in the shade. Corinne and Josie played barbies.

• Central Park Zoo —Snow Leopards who didn’t look sad; bears swimming on a hot day; sea lions flaunting their pool access.

• Central Park Carousel — architectural details, short line, kid pleaser

• Sheep’s Meadow — Large, open field where children can release their zoomies. One adult can watch the children taking photos with the skyline, while the other runs in Le Pain Quotidien.

• The Mall and Literary Walk — personal favorite area, but seriously, where are the women writers

• Bethesda Terrace — grand landscape architecture, fountain, olden-times-ambiance; man with a giant yellow snake named Vanessa, which Josie wanted to hold.

If you've read anything else on my blog, it’s probably understandable that people sometimes describe me as “granola” and “crunchy.” And I’m not defying that stereotype when I say “The Omnivore’s Dilemma” is my favorite food book. Needless to say, I had some anxiety on what and where to find food my six-year-old would eat while in the big apple.

Soon after arrival, I am glad to say, I shook off the chains of our regular food routine. Josie’s diet consisted of croissants, fruit in all forms, and yogurt. I have no clear memories of her eating dinners, but it must have happened. I just bought her what I could, where we were, within reason. Be like the pigeon, I thought, and find something to eat.

If you’re considering seeing a play with your child, there are several kid-specific perennial favorites that come highly recommended, but we didn’t see any of those — I really wanted to see Alicia Keys new musical, Hell’s Kitchen. It’s a story of her relationship with her mother when she was 17 years old, first falling in love and first learning piano. The performance was magnanimous in talent and emotion and I’m glad to say Corinne, Josie and I made it and enjoyed it.

Josie put up some resistance to going after I’d sugared her up early at Alice’s Tea Shop and then dragged her all over The Natural History Museum — OMG THE WHALE ROOM IS THE BEST. We sat on the ballroom floor below the whale and let Luna and Josie run amuck in the spacious blue underworld of the museum. I stretched, chatted with Corinne, and was glad to be still and out of the crowds in a low sensory environment.

Back to broadway with a kids: I didn’t pay full price and I didn’t spend half a precious vacation day hauling my kiddo to the TKTS booth to wait in line for a discounted ticket. I just went on Stub Hub, from my hotel room, while Josie was content with her stuffies, and reserved balcony seats online. Zero regrets about the convenience up-charges.

Pack Snacks in Your Purse!

Josie ended up loving the performance, but pro-tip: don’t get all dolled up and forget to put snacks in your purse. Josie started asking midway through the first act for food and Corinne and I both had nothing to offer. Peanuts and chips from the snack bar did the trick at Intermission, but it was touch and go for a while there. 

Broadway transportation for nervous moms:

We took a cab from the Upper West Side directly to the front of the theater and that was great because I was nervous that the neighborhood was sketchy. So when the show let out, and we flushed out of the theatre with all the other patrons and right onto 8th Avenue, well that was the only time I saw red on the trip. I just got overwhelmed with crowds and men bumping into me, and I held on tight to Josie. The cabs were all getting hailed by the older folks, and I wasn't about to meddle in that, so I called an Uber (the only time in NYC) and get us out of there. My advice: Plan an exit strategy.

There’s a lot going on in Midtown Manhattan: the big-brands on 5th Avenue (HARD PASS), Museum of Modern Art (YES PLEASE), plus Rockefeller Center (AKA 30 Rock). If you’re a mom reading this, you’re picking up what I’m putting down: there are so many ways to lose a child in this chaos. Here’s how Corinne, Luna, Tommy and I navigated it.

First off, we walked (and played) through Central Park to get there. Then we stopped on the threshold of chaos at Pret a Manger for some nourishment before we entered Midtown. We started with the Museum of Modern Art, which the adults were pumped to see, but Josie saw the rare art as a roadblock on her way to FAO Swartz. She put up with us for a few floors, but then she got toy tunnel vision and became not-my-child on the third or fourth floor. I would never raise a child to rush her mother past Vincent van Gogh’s "Starry Night." There is a creative space for families in the MOMA that was quiet and had low lighting and I might be the one who liked it the most, and it bought us more time in the museum and Josie got to stamp out her feelings for a while.

Needless to say, we were not moving at Corinne and Tommy’s pace and Luna had a comfy stroller (and probably hadn’t been baited with promises of new toys), and so Josie and I split off for FAO Swartz. I don’t know what to tell you about FAO. There was a stuffy room. And the floor piano from “Big.” And unicorn, lion, dragon, and other pocket-sized imaginers. Then there was a Barbie boutique and now my child wants a to-scale Barbie house for Christmas. And my mind rattles with wooden blocks.

Corinne and Tommy know Manhattan (and it's music history) well and I felt much more at ease when I was with them. Friends always ease the nerves.

I also looked for little wins. Yea, Josie ate a croissant for breakfast and she’s ready to scoot through the park. Oh good, the park feels safe and it’s a beautiful morning, and Josie loves it too. Great, the man screaming on the sidewalk about ‘gonna kill all y’all” didn’t actually do that. All these little confidence builders and moments of bonding add up.