Le Weekend

Saturday

Here in New York there are many activities for you and your child. Baby Loves Disco - a dance party for toddlers and their desperat... i mean cool parents is one of them. It's a party held a couple weekends a month at a club nearby that we used to frequent when we were childless. A friend of Lowell's (he is starting to have friends but that's a whole 'nother entry) was having a birthday gathering at the party so we went for that and got to check it out. The idea is to have a club night (okay, afternoon) where parents can groove with their young ones, groove with eachother and maybe even drink a beer or two. I walked in with Lowell, checked the stroller and was ready to get down. Unfortunately Lowell wasn't into dancing and was instead into melding completely with my body.  There was a DJ (natch), lights, food for adults and kids and lots of books and toys and a righteous bubble machine spewing bubbles from the ceiling. We were early (a miracle) so it was pretty mellow on the dance floor when we got there, if a little surreal. There were kids from i'd say a few months to 4, 5 years old toddling, sitting, holding onto grownup legs, digging into bins of chiffon scarves and egg shakers. All In the middle of this club I have partied in on many occasions. A couple times Lowell walked around, shaking his moneymaker but it was all a little overwhelming so he just passed out on his daddy (so much like his mama that boy). I have to say, this particular event really made me realize that I am indeed, middle-aged. For one thing I kept thinking the volume was too loud. It really was high, given the young, tender eardrums (mmm... eardrums) in the room, but do you think I was going to be the goob mom that goes up to the DJ and gives him a lecture? I just tried not to stand near the speakers. (Except, to be completely honest, when "Got to Be Real" and "Groove is in The Heart" were playing. Then I got all maxell on them. Okay, how many times am i going to date myself in this aside?). Secondly, there were a lot of middle-aged folks there with their kids. And i was one of them. At least the lighting was a lot more forgiving than the usual venues we all find ourselves at. The playground or the supermarket for instance. Thirdly, when i left the club it was light out, like the old days, but i didn't have a cocaine hangover or a jaw ache from some speedy x. (Dear family, jokes about recreational drug use are funny! Trust me.) The most hilarious thing about the whole event though was how c-r-a-z-y mobbed it got. There was, I am not kidding here, a crowd outside waiting to get in. At 3:30 on a Saturday afternoon. Kids in their Maclarens behind velvet ropes. (Okay, there were no stanchions but still!) It was new york club scene meets park slope kid activity madness. Demand always outweighs supply.

Sunday

Sunday was Marathon day, a day that I look forward to all year because I am a total Marathon Geek. I stand on the curb screaming my head off, clapping, whistling, yelling the names on people's shirts, cheering on countries (in their language if I can swing it because i am also a total Language Geek - don't you want to hang out with me?) and in general having an excellent time. I rarely know anyone that is in the race, I have absolutely no interest in ever running one myself (or running for anything more than the bus for that matter) but I just love watching and cheering. I get a total spectator high from watching people struggle to accomplish a major physical challenge. My eyes well up with tears and I get completely emotional - so much so that it's actually embarrassing. This year I made eye contact with a woman, probably my age, in a racing wheelchair who was moving at an incredible pace. I was cheering for her and she smiled at me and Lowell. I had to bury my face into Lowell's shoulder to keep a sob from rising. It is truly inspiring to see all of them, the elite runners, the wheelers, the everyday people, the seniors, the people in costumes and those running for charities, all of them are taking a day out of their lives to do something that is freaking difficult and the definition of counter-intuitive. At really hard times in my life I have often felt like I just have to keep putting one foot in front of the other, as awful as it feels, because the bad times are temporary, there is an end, and you just have to have faith that you won't drop dead before you get there. I think that's at the bottom of the amazing emotional resonance I feel watching the runners and it keeps me going back every year. By the way, best costume this year, a man (assuming a man but can't be sure) dressed as a pair of cheerful hairy balls running for testicular cancer. Holy cohones!

Comments

[kara]

jeepers! it's a wee-wee!