A Day in Manhattan

Today my best friend and I took my daughter to Manhattan. We had been planning this trip for months. Frannie has a friend from New York, and we have been meaning to go whenever that little girl is there visiting her grandparents, but that hasn't happened yet. Today, I made it from Connecticut to Grand Central with my daughter in toe. Before I continue, let me ease everyone's anxiety. We were fine.

As everyone knows, I am from the south. Therefore all of my girlfriends are from the south. One of them has never been to New York before, and is also my daughter's godmother. She said, "Let's do the American Girl Place." I had already been told by Manhattan native friend in Pittsburgh that the American Girl Place was bad. I kept hearing Dana Carvey from SNL say "It's bad! It's bad!" She said it was a cult out to make money and that we should go to the Guggenheim instead. This is where I am torn as a mother. This line of thinking should end in middle school, but do I do what I want to do with my daughter, or do I appear cool to my friends? hmmmm. In a nice wonderful world my friends are going to be my friends no matter what, so I made a reservation for the American Girl Cafe with my daughter and my best friend, her godmother. Guess what? I wasn't struck by lightening. In making that reservation, I sealed the deal to go to Manhattan with my BFF and my six year old PDD-NOS daughter. Woah nelly....

With my child's disorder, preparation is always a must. There are no surprises in this house. We have been talking about going for two months. I have showed her pictures of what we were going to do online. We set up a schedule. She understood that we would take a train, walk, go to a crowded store, pick out an outfit, and eat lunch. She could also pick one new doll with her birthday money. She repeated the schedule over and over again. "Train, American Girl Cafe, Eat lunch with my doll, pick out toys."

The night before we left, I actually kicked it up into good mommy mode and packed a bag full of snacks and little things (crayons, notepads,and storybooks) to do on the train. As luck would have it, we boarded the express train, so it was a straight shot to Central Station and a walk down fifth avenue to the American Girl Place. Score for the mommy that doesn't know what she is doing.

The morning of departure, she was determined to wear her ruby red slippers and a dress. Instead of escalating a situation,I told her that I would back her sneakers and if her feet started to hurt, she could put them on. Sure enough, at least twice she asked if she could change shoes, so she was able to walk the streets and then wear her nice shoes when we arrived at our destination. I didn't have the heart to tell her that all those little girls weren't there to look at her feet.

The train station was not too terribly crowded, just remember to help them get off the train or they might catch a foot in the space between the platform and the tracks. I made her go to the bathroom before we left and she also went every time we had access to a clean one. I hate to point this out if I have childless friends reading this, but you would rather make them go when the opportunity is there than be walking down fifth with a child doing the potty dance. And take Purell, lots and lots of Purell, and try to get seats on the train near the lavatory, in case you must (remember Purell and Wet Ones again). Everything we wanted to go to was along 5th Avenue. We didn't really have the ability to get lost. She walked and we didn't need to get a taxi. She was using those gross motor skill to a maximum, she even skipped a little.


The lunch was my worst nightmare of all things cute and girly and I pity the brothers that had to go eat there. The napkin rings were hair bows you could take home. The table had a question box of things to talk about, I opened it up and modified the questions as a joke, but my daughter got into it. We were using our speech therapy skills and I didn't even think about it until now. Questions aren't an easy thing for her. Most people who have a daughter know this, but you eat with your doll. She gets a chair and a cup and a plate. Frances actually put food on her little plate and pretended to feed her. Then she told us that "pretend Frances" didn't like her lunch. To witness my daughter engaging in pretend play was worth the daisy decorations and the doll holder in the bathroom stall.

As far as the actual commercial purchases, let me start with the place was packed and the economy sucks. I can only imagine the place in a bull market. I talked my daughter into matching nightgowns for her and "Pretend Frances." Because I draw the line at my child walking out of this house matched with a doll. I won't do it. She loved the nighties and then asked for "Emily." I had no idea who Emily was, but another really nice mom told me Emily was Molly's best friend. Huh, Frances actually knew some of the story lines. That is how I ended up digging through the stacks of little dolls until we found an "Emily."

The check out was long despite twelve of them. One of the clerks showed me how to put the dolls in the doll carrier without them banging their heads on the mean streets of New York. She also said we had one of the more well behaved little girls she had seen come through.

As far as the cult of it, I can see that. Hundreds of little girls were marching around with a doll in their hands. Some of them had two. I also remember going to see the original Child's Play movie in the 8th grade. Could all these little dolls be giving our girls secret messages? I can hear them whisper, "Don't eat.... be perfect." or "I heard what she said about you behind your back." My favorite would be, "You know you can have it all, you know you can be super perfect mommy and an investment banker and make more than a man...." Those dolls have power. I also think it would make a great Sex and the City scene, Charlotte takes Lilly and Rose while Samantha, Miranda, and Carrie gag and freak.

Having just said I can see the cult, you know that I have waited to have a little girl that wanted to do what other girls do, and if she wants to listen to her inner dolly, I will allow it until she is ready for Mommie's Indigo Girls CDs. And if I catch her in the bathroom with her finger down her throat in ten years, I can always blame it on the doll.

Next up was Little Miss Matched. That store is a lot of fun for little girls and a great place to pop in if you are crazy like me and doing New York with children. They have huge dry erase furniture and markers for the kids to draw with. Frances practice her spelling and drew a couple of different princesses while we picked out tights for her. They also have colored pencils and blank sock worksheets so you can design your own. She was able to practice her OT homework and fine motor skills and she didn't even know it!

Last but not least, being a teacher and a librarian, we had to end the day at The New York Public Library. She posed with the lions and then wandered into the Children's Center. We said hello to Winnie the Pooh and Christopher Robin's other original stuffed animals, and then we chilled on the bean bags and read some different versions of the Cinderella story. As we were leaving, Frances high fived the security guard. Made his day....

We did miss the train we wanted, so gosh darn it, she had to have ice cream in grand central before sleeping all the way home.

The only snag was having to hold her every time a police car, ambulance, or fire truck came by. That was the one thing I didn't think to warn her about, but she was very proud of herself after the noise had passed. It was a wonderful day trip. I am proud of my girly girl, and we can hit the Guggenheim next time, skinny little dolls and all.