The Beginning of the Lasts

I’m turning into my mother. I tried again today to teach the lesson I prepared last week for Young Women. Again we had one girl at church, a different girl but just about as enthusiastic to be there. I had to go and find her, tell her it was time to come to Young Women, and then listen to her moan and groan the entire way to the room where we meet. “I don’t want to go.” “It’s always so boring.” “It’s the same every week.” My temper was flaring. I honestly had to consciously check my anger and hold my tongue, which is not typical me. She complained the entire way through our opening exercises and the first few questions I asked her she answered with a curt, “I don’t know.” I just continued on, showing her pictures and telling her the story of the Savior’s last few days of life with the moaning and groaning in the background. Finally I had had it! Using my best Tiger Mom voice I said, “Destiny, I am a VERY patient person, but I have just about had it! LIsten to what I am telling you.” Those are words straight out of my mother’s mouth. Then without waiting for a reaction, I continued telling her the stories so dear to my heart. The tone immediately changed. She was engaged. She wanted to read the scriptures. She answered the questions. And the Spirit was there. That was my last lesson in the Independence Ward Young Women.

Joshua attended his last classes at Wharton this week--a bittersweet accomplishment. Finals are looming and then it’s 14 hours of freedom before he starts his career. I can’t believe how quickly our time here has past. The days sometimes dragged, the weeks were long, the months moved on at a steady pace, and the years flew--relativity at its best. We are entering into the “lasts” phase: last classes, last group project, last preschool, last run around the Schuylkill River loop. We aren’t finished with Philly by any means; it just makes you think twice about what you are doing when you realize you may not get a chance to do it again.

In grand celebration of Josh’s accomplishment and our survival, we took a trip to New York City. It was the “best weekend ever!” To prove that we don’t learn from the past, we took the bus again. We were prepared this time with ziplocks bags, wipes and sour treats. I even stepped out of line and asked to board ahead of the rest of the people. “Carsick” seems to be the magic word. We sat on the top level of the double decker bus in the first row so the girls could look out the front window. We had two happy girls and a great view the whole trip.

After checking into our hotel, giving Jane a nap, and eating at an authentic cantonese restaurant we headed to Times Square to see the Lion King. The evening was magical. The girls had been looking forward to this for weeks and Josh and I were even more excited than the girls. The opening scene of the Lion King is one of my favorite theater moments and this production was incredible. The girls were mesmerized. I took a mental picture of them dressed in their cute Spring dresses, Jane perched atop two booster seats and Kate on one, staring at the stage, completely engaged in the production. They were perfect. They laughed out loud, shrunk back in their seats during the scary parts, and clapped with delight after their favorite songs. Zazu sang Supercalifragilistic to Scar and I thought Kate was going to fall off her chair she thought it was so hilarious. We bought a stuffed Simba for the girls to share to remind them of the play. Jane, who has always been a stuffed animal girl, took to it immediately and wouldn’t let go. Kate was reminding her that they were sharing Simba and Jane replied, “Yes, we will share Kate. Next time you can get a Simba doll too.” It was a late night and we ended up carrying two sleepy girls back to the hotel, but every now and then you need a good late night.

The next morning we took the subway out to Brooklyn and then walked back into Manhattan across the Brooklyn bridge. It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining and the temperature was perfect. We had a great view of the city as we walked. I guess I should have listened to Josh when he wanted to take the double stroller though, because Kate thought walking was the worst idea ever. She decided it was most unjust that she had to walk while Jane got to ride in the stroller. After much weeping and wailing we ended up carrying Jane and pushing Kate.

Once back on Manhattan we made our way down to Battery Park and the American Indian Museum. I figured Kate the Indian had to see the American Indian Museum. It was actually a pretty incredible display and we ended up staying there a long time. I was struck by the beauty of the craftsmanship and the extent of the knowledge of American Indians. Interesting to see how far we have progressed or fallen as a society depending on your perspective. We try so hard to be “green” these days by recycling our plastic. Well, they had “green” down to a science. Makes you wonder what could have been had Henry Knox and George Washington had their way in Indian affairs. Not one of the bright spots of our past.

After we had had our fill of tipis and beads, we headed out to find lunch. The rest of our trip was a wild goose chase. We had a recommendation for a ramen shop. I was so excited to taste real ramen again. Please do not think of instant ramen. Ramen in Japan is so tasty! We took a couple subways, walked several blocks and arrived 10 minutes after they closed. Doh. We searched around, found a decent place, tried to get the girls to eat something and then realized we had to get moving. We had less than an hour to gather our bags from the hotel and get back to the bus stop. We overlooked one small detail, however. It was 5 o’clock on a Friday in New York City. We came up from the subway stop closest to our hotel and Josh dashed to get our bags. I dashed into the lobby of a closer hotel to take the girls potty. We met up, navigated the rush hour traffic on the subway with two little girls, a suitcase, a stroller, and our day pack and arrived at the bus stop 20 minutes after our bus was supposed to leave. This is where miracles start happening. Just as we got into ear shot of the bus lines we heard the guy say “5:40 to Philadelphia” and the line started moving toward the bus. It was 6:00. We just walked right up and started loading our luggage on and then merged into the line. We didn’t check in or go to the back of the line. We just considered it a miracle that we made it and got on board. We didn’t have our premium seats this time, but the girls did okay. Jane slept. Kate only got sick at the very end.

It was a whirlwind trip, but so worth it! Fun memories and who knows when we’ll be back to New York City again.