We are urban camping. Last night when we went to sleep, this is what we saw.
This morning when we woke up, it was to the sounds of ships, and street crossfit mere feet from the fence near our tent. The trainer was shouting, “You didn’t come here to get smaller, did you???” Jersey City is in the shadow of NYC, like the dorky little sister of a Hollywood star. It even has its own, small-but-meaningful 911 memorial.
And this morning, we went to New York City! This is my favorite city. My childhood dreams of fancy twinkling lights, Broadway shows, sophisticated dresses, and nights at the Waldorf Astoria ordering delectable high tea room service all happened in New York City. The ghosts of Nick Carraway and Jordan and Daisey Buchanan drift and whisper in in all of the most fashionable places.
We had a punch list today. Somebody at the camp site had given us 5 unlimited subway tickets, so i was confident that we would get to itall!!First, World Trade Center monument. We were in awe. My kids have only a vague understanding of what 911 even is. To them, it is a horrible tragedy that happened way before they were born. And it had something to do with terrorists. Not wrong, but they see it like I might see WWII: purely academic. Something about all of those names on the eternal cascade and the guards so carefully keeping guest reverence in check got to them. Especially Judah. We didn’t go inside. I thought they would appreciate it better when a few years older. 
Miss L wanted to ride a subway right away, so we hopped on and took a ride to Times Square. There is retail overload in those few blocks, and a faux ball sitting where the real one will fall. So many lights and sounds. St. George just clung to Miss Magpie’s arm and sucked his lip. Poor little mountain kid. 
So we found Central Park and its many playgrounds. If we must swim in every pond, we must likewise play at every playground. NYC has the best playgrounds, too, because the kids here don’t have yards to play in! 
Miss Magpie has wanted to buy a dress in NYC, just like Lucy Ricardo, for years. So I took her to Millie Dilmont’s dream: Saks Fifth Avenue, Bergdorf Goodman, too. Her response: “$9000 for a dress? I’ll just get something at Walmart or Target in New York.” Smart kid. That’s likely more in line with the kind of place Lucy bought her dresses, anyway. So much for the fancy dress from NYC. 
I took the kids to Rockafeller Center and they all had to go into FAO Schwartz. When did they move that store to Rockafeller Center? Kind of a dirty trick, if you ask me. It used to be easy for parents to just avoid it if needed. Now it’s right smack dab in the middle of a place parents want to visit! Well, the employees are amazing, and the set-up of the store is grand. Maybe it’s ok that we went in there. All the kids still had money left to spend, so they all found something fun to remember NYC by. All except Miss Magpie. She was still very offended by the $9000 dress and only wanted to find a Walmart to buy new clothes at. That kid has a one-track mind.
One of the main reasons we go to NYC is to visit my brother. No, that is the main reason, not just one of them. We made a mistake using our subway passes, and so had to wait 18 minutes before we could use them, and my brother was 44 blocks downtown from us. So we ran. I felt like a real New Yorker running like that. We ignored red lights, ran in front of cars and yelled at them when they honked at us, booted people out of our way with our big bags of toys, and even St. George got into the swing of it in yelling out, “Move it!” if people got into our way. But people here get it. There is always someone in a crazy hurry, and you kindly just move for them. It’ll be your turn tomorrow or the next day, and then those people will move for you.
I love it here.
We met up with my brother in Washington Square, and that’s really when our day got perfect. My brother lives in Chinatown, and meeting him at Washington Square fit the vibe of hanging out on his turf. A family of street performing break dancers and acrobats was showing off their stuff, telling kids to stay off drugs and not to drink. “Do you think we could do this if we were high?” Run, jump, flip over 5 volunteers. No, sir, I don’t think you could. My kids were convinced. We got ice cream from an ice cream truck, and my brother handed me spiked seltzer water, his new favorite thing, he said, because it’s low-calorie, low alcohol, refreshing, and you can drink it from a water bottle and nobody will know. He said he thought I’d need a nice drink after a day in NYC hauling 5 kids around. No joke, kid. My brother and I are cut from the same mold.
No, we really are. As we walked through China Town to his apartment, he pointed to the jail where he had spent the night, to the tenement housing where “you aren’t supposed to go,” but there is a shortcut through, so no biggie. He snagged one of our subway cards and sent St. George under the turn style, so we didn’t have to buy subway fare. “You can’t get arrested for jumping the turn style, and to ticket you, they have to catch you.” He knows this because he’s been arrested for jumping…and he now jumps but also runs fast enough not to get caught. He’s all about breaking the rules. So am I. I love being in his territory and breaking the rules he breaks. I wish we were closer in age. I’d probably be locked up right there next to him instead of fronting as a respectable wife and mother. Oh, who are we kidding. nobody thinks I’m a respectable wife and mother. Everyone knows I’m a rule-breaker. Ha!
Except at home. My brother and I have rules at home, and they are solid. You break the rules, you’ll be prodded into following them or scolded. I am so proud of my brother. He made us all take off our shoes, wash our feet, dry them, keep our feet off his white bed, keep our feet quiet to respect the very elderly Chinese couple next door, nobody could climb on the railing of the fire escape…and everyone listened to him because while he has few rules, they are firm. Everyone can remember a few firm rules and respect them. 
Did I mention that my brother shares an apartment with two other people, and the bathroom is accessed through two of the bedrooms…or through the common apartment hallway? Yep. You either walk through two bedrooms, or you go out of the apartment and into the hallway to the other door. So NYC. Oh, and the shower is in the kitchen. You can make your coffee and wash dishes while waiting for your intense oil treatment in your hair. I want a shower in my kitchen.
We talked a lot about old times. He still remembers when he was 9 years old and my mother allowed me to drive him across the country to my place in Buffalo, NY. He was such a little one. I distinctly remember him accidentally cutting in line ahead of someone at one of those free hotel breakfasts. After all, he was 9 and starving after sleeping all night. The man he cut in front of started yelling at him, and at age 23 I remember not knowing whether it would be a better example to him if I were to lay into that mean person, or if I should apologize. I did neither. Instead, I pulled him to me and glared at the yelling man, and I wanted to shelter and protect him forever. I didn’t feel that level of protectiveness again until the first person yelled at Miss Magpie when she was only a baby and she pulled something out of their shopping cart thinking it was ours. But then I knew better what to do, and I laid into that woman. I wish I’d known to lay into the man yelling at my brother. I guess I learned something in the 8 years between. I should have spent more time with my brother while I was in college. It is one of my few regrets in life. When you are 13 years older than someone, you have this weird, sort of aunt-like relationship with them until they are grown. Then it’s all sibling again. But he had a set of struggles that I didn’t make time to help him sort out, or maybe I didn’t know he needed help sorting them out. Big sisters need to be mindful of the babies that come after them. It’s something I learned by not doing it, and I am putting a lot of effort into teaching my kids this about their younger siblings. Anyway, whatever the past was, he has always been a perfect creature in my eyes, and I love to be with him now.
My brother had a party to attend, so we ordered pizza and took it to an adorably sketchy park while we waited for his friend to meet up with him. I wish my brother lived close to me so we could hang out all the time. He knows the most fascinating people. My kids adore him, and he appears to enjoy them. I adore him. It was hard to say goodbye to him and watch him walk away.
It was night in the City by then, and so we all held hands in a long line and walked as quickly as we could across town to our ferry. Our feet were very sore. We walked 16 miles today. St. George and Miss L could hardly walk. Nobody had enough energy even to complain. 
As we floated along on the ferry back to Jersey City, Miss L said, “Can we go see the Statue of Liberty just for a second?” That closed the deal. We have a few days to spare on this trip, and none of us are quite done with the City yet. We are spontaneously going again tomorrow!
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