This week, I encountered one of the most fulfilling few days of my life. Four one-on-one days with my 14 year old son, Owen. The last summer before he enters high school. One of the last mom and son experiences I’m sure we’ll have for some time. A dear friend of mine told me that there is a bond between a mother and her first son that can’t be explained. My friend is a first son…so I have all faith that he is correct. I love both of my sons equally, yet in very different ways, because they are such different people. Its strange, with Owen, we can sit together for hours and not say a word. Yet for some reason we know each other so well that words don’t need to be spoken. A simple smile or laugh will do.
My son is a tremendous person…and I’m not just saying that because he’s my son. I know people. I have amazing intuition and insight into souls. My son Eli has a soul of a ninety year old. And he’s experienced more in his ten years of life than most ninety year olds. Owen has the soul of a wise teenager. Oxymoron….I know. Much like his mom he loves to laugh, smile and experience the intricacies of life and the people around him. Life is short; what more do you need?
Our journey to NYC started with the crazy taxi. Of course we held on tight and giggled the entire way to our destination. Hotel Casablanca, just steps from Times Square, and they were not fibbing. Of course hotel snob did her homework. Two thumbs up for the boutique hotel. Free champagne…a dream for a girl who hasn’t had a day off of work in over seven months. Look out vaca...here come the Graysons.
To my surprise, the 14 year old had the stamina to walk at least ten miles a day. I knew my running routine would come in handy at some point in my life. I had no problem keeping up with the teen. The first evening included a hilarious show. We enjoyed the talent and antics of Blue Man Group. We were showered in toilet paper and freaked out as the blue people walked toward us. Thankfully we were not pulled on stage as we politely sat in the poncho section, surely not a good look for camera.
The Astor theatre resided in cute little neighborhood near NYU. Although I couldn’t convince the teen that NYU would be a wise choice for college, he immediately informed me that NYC doesn’t have quality sports teams, so I could just scratch that one off my ‘wannabe’ list. He did enjoy the people watching.
After a wonderful evening with my son, we decided to take advantage of the NYC nightlife and enjoy an eleven p.m. dinner. Still watching the waist line, I settled on my typical bird food; a light salad. My six footer chose a New York style pepperoni pizza nearly the size of a hula hoop. To no surprise he ate the entire pie. With full tummies, we walked back to the residence of hotel snob and retired in our 800 thread count Egyptian sheets. Lights out. More to come on Day two.
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