Greta got up at 4:30am last night, and that was that. She is drooling everywhere, chewed through her $15 bottle, and has refused to eat any dinner. I've had it with teeth.
This morning I took the girls on a long walk to see the Antaro Polanco, a three-story open-air shopping mall. It was a longer walk than I'd anticipated, and really nothing too remarkable, with the standard roster of luxury shops--like a Short Hills mall in Mexico. But the girls gamely went along for the ride, and then we went back and played in the park for a little while. The highlight by far for the girls was finding a wet bench--just a plain park bench that for some reason had been doused with water. They slapped it, ran their hands over it, flicked the water around, squealed. To that I say--ick. Cities are dirty. Park benches are dirty. Park benches in this park in this city seem dirtier still. But they were happy, until two taco sellers barreled over to the bench and all but elbowed them out of the way to set up their food. (I watched them from afar--they had a thriving little lunch business; clearly, that bench was their territory.)
We had some playground time this afternoon, both girls swinging and climbing on everything. Lucia still loudly longs for home, but she's been having a pretty good time. We'll miss this playground.
A funny bit: Our apartment building has twenty-four-hour security, in the form of a doorman who lets us in and out. He sits in a small booth by the front door; to alert him to our presence, we always say, "Hola!" This has become Lucia's task. "Can I say 'hola'?" she always asks. Then she bounds over to the booth, waving and calling, "Hola!" She's insistent, too, if the door isn't opened right away. "Hola!"
Interior wall of plants at the Antaro Polanco:
Our Mexico City stroller/shopping cart:
This bench is wet, and that's the most fun thing ever: