New York Part Two

But we weren't in town just to see the City. We were there to celebrate a very important birthday. 
Of course we had to take the Subway to get there.  
Now. Little One doesn't get that New Yorkers have a responsibility to their collective reputation not to be friendly.  On the Subway, She smiles and flirts shamelessly until She gets someone to break the code of Unfriendly and adore Her.
On the night we were headed to Jaju's birthday dinner, all dressed up, She found a guy on the train to chitchat with.  Of course, She had to show him Her baby doll.  "This mine Baby!" She held it up proudly.
"Uh oh!", the man played along, "She's crying!"
Oh did you think you were teasing Her, Subway Man?  Think you were going to get Her flustered or worried about Baby? Ha.  You don't know Little One.  Little One handles Her business, Man.  Just cause She's not a New Yorker doesn't mean She's not savvy!
Totally unphased, She turned that baby around and made it look Her right in the eye.
"Baby!" She said.  "Baby you cryin'?  Ok baby."
She took Her little right hand, and put in across Her heart.  (what is She, going to solemnly swear Baby to sleep?)
She hooked Her little thumb under Her dress strap. (uh...wait just a....)
She slid the strap from Her shoulder (oh my. I see now)
Yanked it down to Her elbow, exposing a triangle-swath of toddler skin.  (Little One! Wait-)
Oriented Baby just so (Oh too late now)
And jammed its face onto Her nipple.
"Baby, you hungry.  There go."

In New York, Peanuts, as on all mass public transportation, there is an air of slightly grumpy solemnity.  Everyone is coming off a long day at work.  They are crowded next to strangers and everyone stinks a little. The subway car is s a tin can of a slightly dejected stoicism, and New Yorkers have seen it all.  But I tell you.
When Little One popped that baby on Her bare little chest like that, so matter of fact, it was like dropping a stone into still water.
Little ripples emanated from Her, pulsing through the railcar washing back brow wrinkles and cracking set jaws, until laughter went rolling and splashing around the plastic orange seats.
Little One (whom we know has a thing for anything in the applause family) was highly amused by Her sudden stardom, and worked it a little.
Subway Man had tears in his eyes he laughed so hard, "Well hey! Wow! Where didja learn that?"
A dozen eyes fell on Little Miss, in my arms.  And on me, slightly pinker than usual.
Plink.
Splash.
Another ripple went out and the laughter soaked into the floor and went dripping out the cracks in the door.

With our glamor only slightly tarnished, we arrived uptown to celebrate at a fancy-shmancy restaurant.
The guest of honor got lots of love.

Little One had a great time with Her oh-so-cool older cousins.

And Miss loved all the attention from the grown ups.

 Of course, it was so schmancy in there, that I brought a bottle in case Miss got hungry.  And of course She decided that no way in heck was She going to have anything to do with it, because hasn't She been clear that She will only take a bottle from J? And was J with us on that trip? Nnoooooo.  So (TMI ALERT) part of the party was me in the fancy bathroom with my lovely, HIGH NECK dress up around my not-so-fancy-now shoulders, nursing my stubborn baby.  But hey.  We still had a great time.
Thus is life as a mommy.  You can dress up with your sparkly earrings and your high, high heels.  You can go out and eat things you could never pronounce.  But you have to be flexible.
You have to hike up the occasional cocktail dress.  Or maybe walk out of your Manhattan dinner and skip the after-party.  To strap a baby carrier over that cocktail dress, reach down past the heels to grab your toddlers hand, and take them on the subway looking like this:

 Back to your Brooklyn hotel room. For bedtime.