But in a small apartment with two kids, when one rises, they all do. So Aimee and I made the most of it and headed out for a little early morning walk. It’s always fun to see big cities wake up. Of course, it’s more fun to sleep in. But that ship set sail three and a half years ago.
Our neighborhood is particularly charming in the morning (and so are our kids, for that matter), so the early walk wasn’t as painful as it could have been.
As it did the perviously mornings, our walk ended at the historic town square. We saw thirty-somethings heading off to work, young families out for a stroll, garbage trucks and street sweepers cleaning up from the night before, and police officers heading out on their beats. And Quinn saw a car, or a truck, or another car, or maybe a bus.
Nothing gets past that guy.
With our morning routine thrown off by jet lag and Quinn’s early wakeup, I completely forgot to put Mimi on the potty. But she remembered, when we were about twenty minutes away from our apartment, and before most of the cafés in el centro opened up. Slightly panicked, I scanned the horizon for one of the American franchise restaurants I subconsciously ignore under normal circumstances. There! Starbucks! Ahoy! I guiltlessly walked my three year old right past the counter, straight into the clean, unlocked bathroom I knew would be there.
I’m fully aware of the hypocrisy of me grumbling about cultural homogenization while gleefully taking advantage of the perks. We can have a longer discussion about that when my three year old isn’t about to soil herself.
Over the city-provided free WiFi (Mexico City, you’re too much) we coordinated breakfast plans with Nona and Grael, and met them at one of our neighborhood cafes as it was opening up. And as if this city couldn’t get any more charming, the troubadour at the cafe that morning serenaded our kids with Spanish-accented Beatles covers.
Too much.
Our activity for the day was a hop-on, hop-off bus tour of our corner of Mexico City. It seemed like the easiest way to see things beyond our immediate neighborhood. Mexico City has a pretty robust subway system. But it’s the type of shoulder-to-shoulder chaos you’d expect from a city of thirteen million people. Aimee and I took it on our pre-kid visit to Mexico City, and the thought of doing it again with strollers and diaper bags (to say nothing of kids that stay still for seconds at a time) seemed like way more trouble than it was worth. I’m sure literally millions of parents take literally millions of kids on the subway every day. But we had nowhere to be, and the only fixed item on our agenda that day was nap time. So we went for the more leisurely option.
And not to be overly sentimental, but the look on our kids’ faces when they realized that we actually get to go inside a bus was all the birthday present I needed.
Until that morning, didn’t know that riding inside of a bus was even an option. It took him five minutes just to settle down enough for us to take his picture. The kid absolutely lost his mind.
With a relatively narrow window between breakfast and nap time, we couldn't take much advantage of the hop-on, hop-off aspect. It was more like hop-on, go up the stairs with Quinn, go down the stairs with Quinn, keep Mimi seated, go back up the stairs with Quinn, get Mimi back to her seat, see one thing, go back down the stairs with Quinn, “Oh look, we’re back where we started,” hop-off. But it was a nice little peek into more of Mexico City.
We ended our tour at the historic church on the south end of Coyoacán’s town square. There also happens to be an ice cream shop right across the street.
Sure, Mimi. It’s my birthday after all.
But ice cream is to Mimi what bus rides are to Quinn. An hour and a half of pure joy left him absolutely wiped out. The ice cream shop was literally across the street from where we got off the bus, and he didn't even make it that far.
Mimi and Conrad still had about an hour’s worth of energy to burn off, give or take an ice cream cone. So we made our way across the town square into Parque Frida Kahlo.
It’s a beautiful little Park with fountains, a small garden, and of course a playground.
I’m up, guys! I’m up!
Mimi had told me that she needed to go potty right before we were about to get off the bus. But both of us became quickly distracted by the prospect of getting ice cream for lunch.
We both remembered at exactly the same time, somewhere between her thirty fourth and thirty fifth trip down the slide. She made it abundantly clear that there would not be time for a thirty sixth.
So we hoofed it outside of the park. Not a Starbucks to be seen. I typically feel a little guilty using a small business restroom without being a customer, but there was no time for feelings. So I asked the maitre’d of a nearby restaurant if la niña could use their restroom. He, of course, graciously let us in. I made a mental note to come back as a customer to thank them, but as soon as I walked past the ten foot high shrubs marking the entrance, I saw immediately that there was no way we could afford this place. Through the hidden gardens was the fanciest restaurant I had seen in any country. And here I was, barging in wearing a sweaty T-shirt and a squirming three year old. I suddenly became very self conscious. But this being Mexico, a dad helping his kid on emergency potty run was more charming than disruptive, even in a super fancy restaurant. People barely even looked up.
Following our second close call of the day, we made our way back to the park and rejoined the gang. Then trips thirty-six through fifty-two down the slide, and eventually we all headed back to the apartment for family nap time.
Aimee had found a nice little restaurant in downtown Coyoacán for my birthday dinner that night. Most restaurants were closing early for New Year’s Eve, but we found one that would be open just late enough for us to sneak in at our usual toddler-friendly dinner time. But as we walked up to the front, the hostess told us that they weren’t serving anymore. The three small children we were carrying may have played a role in her decision, but I’m giving her the benefit of the doubt. Mexico City loves kids. But it also loves leaving work on time to be with friends and family on holidays. The latter won out that night.
It took us just a few minutes to find another restaurant where we could celebrate New Year's Eve and my birthday. It was a super nice seafood restaurant, and quite a bit fancier than what we would have picked under normal circumstances. But the exchange rate was quite favorable that month, so I said yes to the bottle of wine. Happy birthday to me.
We wandered around the square after dinner, and watched some musicians, a clown show, and a handful of celebrity impersonators. It was a delightful evening.
Not content with letting a peaceful evening remain peaceful, we decided to take a group photo to commemorate the day. That misguided decision was followed by no fewer than 15 minutes of child-wrangling, and a partial fountain extraction.
Mimi, Conrad, please stop being so adorable.
Quinn, please wait until after our photo to be incredibly friendly.
Mimi, watch where you’re...ah!
Ok, everyone! Chee..
Oh well. We'll just have to remember this one.
And of course it wouldn’t be a birthday without a second trip to the heladeria.
There’s something in the air here. Or it was the wine. Or the ice cream. Either way, it was an absolutely wonderful birthday. Even if it means that Mimi’s first conversation of the New Year will be asking for two trips to the ice cream shop again. But we’ll cross that bridge tomorrow.
