This December was very exciting for our family. It was baby girl's first Christmas and we were determined to carry out a special tradition of my family. When my sister and I were younger my Uncle and Aunt would take us and our cousins to see the Radio City Christmas Spectacular in New York City every year. Even though the show doesn't really change all that much from year to year, it was always a magical experience. At least for me it was. You just can't help walking into that theater with your mouth wide-open in awe of all the ornate decorations, fancy chandeliers, and of course images of the world famous Radio City Rockettes. Each and every year that became my temporary aspiration: to become a Rockette. Two days after the show I would forget all about it and go back to dreaming of becoming an astronaut, or monkey trainer, or an ice cream shop owner, or whatever Sesame Street was talking about that day. But for that one weekend every year I wanted nothing but to become a Rockette, kicking my legs as high as I can, wearing the sparkliest costumes imaginable. My sister and I could not wait to bring that magic and wonder to our own kids! And now, we finally can!
My husband and I almost passed on the opportunity to go this year, thinking that this little peanut was too small to appreciate such magic. But my sister guilted us into going, as she so eloquently does, reminding us that it's baby girl's first Christmas and what a perfect time it was to start a family tradition with her cousins. So we caved. And I'm so glad we did.
I'll admit, I was nervous. What if it's too loud for her? What if she is afraid of the dark? What if she poops through her beautiful red dress and all over my lap and I have nothing to change into? What if she screams the whole time and distracts the Rockettes and ruins their perfectly in-sync toy soldier line? What if she hates the show? Oh my god... What if she hates the Rockettes? No. That's crazy. I'm being paranoid.
My bro-in-law got us perfect seats in the aisle, on the ground level, near the back for a quick escape if a tantrum or blow-out should spontaneously occur. We took our seats just in time for the curtains to open and the first musical number began. This little peanut stood straight up in my lap to get a better view and oh my god, priceless is not even a good enough word to describe the look on her face seeing those sparkly girls on stage, dancing and kicking and tapping away! Her tiny body tensed up with excitement and the only thing she knew how to do was wave her arms frantically at the dancers, clap her hands, and do the best version of dancing that she knew how. She bobbed up and down on her chubby little legs, shaking her hands and saying "Ooh!" At one point she turned around to look at me as if to say "Are you seeing this, mom? This is the most amazing thing I've ever seen in my whole entire life!" I think I spent more time watching her than I did watching the stage. My niece and nephew, who are almost 2 and 4, respectively, also thought it was the most amazing thing ever. When Santa came out on stage, my niece called out to him"Santa, Santa!" as if he were there to see her specifically and she wanted to make sure he knew where she was sitting. And when he multiplied on stage to demonstrate how Santa could be in many places at once, my nephew looked around and all he could do was say "Huh? Huh? Huh? What?" That was enough for me to decide that the trip was definitely worth it. Even the events that followed...
My sister and her husband live pretty close to the city so they are more comfortable navigating the busy streets. We, on the other hand, do not and comfortable is the last word I would use to describe the experience. Immediately after the show ended, the magic fizzled as the theater ushers shoved us out onto the street like a herd of cattle, yelling at us to watch our step and stay out of the street. We made it out of the stampede alive and headed to the restaurant where we had reservations for lunch, just a few blocks away. After lunch we took pictures by the big tree and then wanted to take my nephew to the Lego store because he is really into Legos now (FINALLY!). But by that time, Rockefeller Center became a crowded sea of tourists. Crowded is not even the right word. It was a congested deluge of zombies slowly meandering around the plaza with their faces buried in their iPhones or camera lenses, not looking where they were going, pushing and shoving, stepping on toes, ramming into ankles with strollers (ok, that was me, but I didn't do it on purpose! At least not at first...). Being in a crowd like that makes the hair on my neck stand on end, but being in a crowd like that WITH A STROLLER almost brought me to a murderous rampage!
The Lego store is right next to the damn tree. I could literally see it from where we were standing. I am a woman of logic, and I know that the shortest path between point A and point B is a straight line. But because of the crowd, police were directing "traffic" throughout the plaza, so that certain sections were 'one way' only. So we had to walk all the way around the block to get to point B. Not a big deal. Except it took almost a half an hour to get around the corner because we basically had to stand still and let the sea of people float us along the sidewalk. And nobody gives a shit that you are pushing a stroller, or that the stroller actually has a baby in it. Oh no. We got kicked and pushed and one man actually tried to step over the stroller. I mean, he lifted his leg as if to hurdle jump right over my child! Oh no you don't! Well, the Stroller Derby began and I started taking down my opponents left and right.
We finally made it to the Lego store only to find that there was a line down the street just to get in! So unfortunately we didn't make it, but we promised we would bring him back to pick out something cool when it wasn't a total mob scene.
So we made it out of NYC alive, with a new appreciation for our life in the suburbs and a continued admiration for sparkly costumes and tap shoes. Baby girl slept soundly that night, probably dreaming of one day becoming a Radio City Rockette. Who knows? Maybe one day she will!
