For this Staten Island mom, there has always been so much anticipation about how much more we would be able to enjoy New York City when my son was just a little bit older.
And then, all of a sudden, he was half as tall as me.
He was completely potty-trained.
He could sit still.
There was nothing stopping us. Last month, we got tickets to Baby’s First Broadway Show!
While some parents are guilty of pressuring their kids to get into show biz, this “stage mother” has been training her son to be an audience member since birth. The Boy has endured, er, enjoyed all of his oldest cousin’s lengthy dance recitals. He’s been to circuses everywhere, from Lincoln Center to Midland Beach. And last year, we made the trek — with extended family in a minivan — to see The Radio City Christmas Spectacular. Now, my baby was Broadway bound.
Or was he?
After the tickets to “The Pee-wee Herman Show” had been procured, the question loomed: Would my almost-four-year-old behave and enjoy a show after a journey on public transportation from Staten Island to the theater district? (After all, what parent would still have money left to pay for gas, the Verrazano Bridge toll and parking?!)
Happily for us, the answer seems to be that half of the fun is getting to the seats.
While I made sure my son was wearing comfy loafers, The Boy conserved his shoe leather on the first leg of the journey with a stroller ride to St. George. He was dazzled by the enormous fish in the ferry terminal’s aquariums. He eagerly boarded the orange boat, whose fog horn we often hear from our Tompkinsville home. He was delighted by the view of the ships in the harbor and the Brooklyn and Governor’s Island skylines. He recognized a buoy bobbing on the waves and pointed it out to his father and me with glee.
Everything was going so well. Could our luck hold out?
After docking, my husband carried the umbrella stroller as we descended the stairs into the subway. I was stunned that nothing could dampen The Boy’s excitement about boarding a train, not even the ear-splitting squealing of wheels. But it was a challenge for him to remain sitting, because he was straining to look out of the train’s windows, too. When I was momentarily separated from him and his dad, he did let out a quietly heartrending “Where is my Mah-ahm?” to which the other passengers responded with smiles — not eye-rolling — and made room for me to scooch closer. Still, his enthusiasm was unwavering.
When we got to the theater, we picked up the tickets for the 2 pm matinee (I would not advise this epic journey before or after an evening show!) and were able to check the stroller along with the coats. To my delight, an usher spotted us at the coat-check counter and asked us if we needed a booster seat. What service!
“The Pee-wee Herman Show” does not have an intermission and our orchestra seats were in the center of a row. I silently thanked God that I had thought to ask my son if he had to go to the bathroom before we started sidling towards our seats, as it was suddenly clear that if he did have to get up during the performance, we would have had to watch the rest of the show on our feet in the back row.
The Boy was riveted by the performers and glittering, vibrant set. He wanted to talk with me about what he was seeing, but it took a couple of tries before he mastered a stage whisper. Luckily, his first Broadway show was a raucous one where audience participation was encouraged.
After the curtain calls, we stopped by the stage door and I held him high to see Pee-wee’s alter ego, Paul Reubens, regaling the crowd with a bullhorn and later, co-star Lynne Marie Stewart — also still in full costume as Miss Yvonne — signing autographs and being photographed with her fans.
In the days and weeks that followed, The Boy would recall moments from the show. “Hey Mom, remember when …?” I can’t believe he’s old enough to ask me that. And I can’t wait to make more big city memories with my little man.
Lisa J. Curtis is a freelance writer and editor based in Staten Island, and is Mom to the best boy in the world.
