When Maya was a baby, I spent a lot of time outside, walking around the city, pushing her in the stroller. It was often the only way she would nap, and I got a lot of exercise. Often if she was upset (and she had a scream that could break glass and eardrums) I would put her in the stroller and go out. Just the change of sound and energy was enough to change her mood and mine. Going out and instantly being able to see people and enter a different space is one of the reasons I love the city.
The energy around here has been a little off for about two days, so tonight I’m employing the same technique I used when Maya was an infant. We’re going out. Not only out, but out late – leaving at around 10pm, when I would usually be writing this blog. We’re taking cameras, putting them on night setting, and heading to Lincoln Center. If we’re lucky, we’ll get the opera crowd as they leave the Met, and all the limos and taxis pulling up in front to whisk them away.
Already there is excitement in the air here at home in anticipation of our late night ‘field trip’. Doing something out of the ordinary, and slightly unorthodox (at least for children aged 10 and 6 on a weeknight) is great medicine for the blues. It reminds me of the scene in “Dead Poets Society” where Robin Williams tells the boys to stand on their desks and look around. See the room from a different perspective. That’s what we’re going to do tonight.