Mother-Baby Movie w/ bonus, since I haven’t posted in a long time (for me)

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Akilah and The Bee

Pirates of the Carribean –The Annoying One With the Dumb Ending

Knocked Up

Dreamgirls

Sex In the City

Rachel Getting Married

MILK

Yes.  I can count on my fingers the movies I’ve seen since Cake was born. Some, obviously, were seen when there was not much selection in movies to be had.

Crash. Mad Hot Ballroom.  Those were the two I saw right before my honey gave birth.  I like movies.  But when one lives several states away from the kids’ grandparents, and babysitting ends up costing $100 a night, movies are harder to come by.  (That said, I have seen more plays than usual in the past three years, the reasoning being that if we’re spending that much on the babysitter, we may as well shell out some more for the entertainment.)

I was secretly jealous of my honey, I may have mentioned before, during her seven months home with baby Cakie way back when.  One thing I envied was the time she could spend sitting in cafes with friends and little babies.  Another was that she could go to movies.  In New York, a few years back, it was all the rage for movie theatres to reserve one showing of a matinee, maybe once a week for babies and their caretakers to be welcomed and not have to feel like they are imposing on other movie-goers: the mother-baby movie.  Now that I’m home, I can’t find them anywhere on line.  Please help me out, quick (!) if you have any evidence to the contrary as close to Brooklyn as possible.

Since I have one whole freakin’ week of time at home with my baby left, I decided to throw caution to the wind and go to a movie I wanted to see regardless of the state of the welcome my little friend in the Ergo would receive.  I chose the movie I wanted to see most: MILK.  Hoping for an empty theatre, I was a bit bummed to see the theatre half-full.  Damn New Yorkers and their flexible schedules.  Artsy-fartsy freelancing matinee crashers!  I chose a seat near the door, way in the back.  There were people in front, behind, and to the left of me.  The people to my left were young.  Too young.  Rabblerousers.  I don’t know what movie they thought they were going to see, one about cows perhaps?  Every gay kiss, these teens felt the need to giggle. Loudly.  They were extremely annoying.  And yet… they made Trucker seem kind of quiet and unobtrusive.  So I didn’t even shush them.

I loved the movie– what I saw of it.  Yet, it was the kind of movie you want to be fully-engrossed in so you can cry really hard at the hard parts, etc.  That didn’t happen.  Especially for a long stretch in the middle during which Trucker would make I’m-about-to-cry noises, until I walked into the lobby.  Then he’d stop.  Then if I went back inside, he’d make the I’m-about-to-cry-take-me-back-to-that-pretty-lobby noises. Repeat.  Finally, I stood in the back for some time rocking him gently and watching the gays on the big screen.  He fell asleep.  And proceeded to snore. Loudly. But I didn’t care.  At least I could sit down and I didn’t have to go into the lobby and I wasn’t snickering loudly like the teens who should have been in school, dagnabit.  The movie ended and I cried, yadda yadda.  I couldn’t help but feel like a missed out on the movie anyway.  I walked up to a woman who had been sitting in the last row, right where I kept having to stand and sway with the baby.  I apologized for  any distraction I may have been.  She said it was no problem.

When I got outside and I was trying to put up my umbrella, the woman from the back walked up to me again and said, “You really should get a babysitter next time.  You’ll enjoy the movie a lot more.  Trust me.”  Perhaps she saw the look on my face I get when given unsolicited advice from strangers on the street.  She pointed to her pregnant belly (I hadn’t noticed before) and said, “I have an older son.  Really.” I paused.  She was right.  I would have totally enjoyed the movie more if I’d had a sitter.  Perhaps even $100 more.

Upon further thought, I realized that maybe the very best way to have fun while home with a baby is to have fun with the baby at home.

Bonus — My favorite sign from the No On 8 march … Sad Rainbow.

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Filed under LGBT, NYC What is it about you?, Trucker, gay marriage, my second son