So this morning, after Andrew left to work in the local office, I took the girls on a walk--both to explore the luxury shopping street Presidente Masaryk and to seek out another bottle for Greta. It was a lovely walk. We didn't go far, but we passed gorgeous bridal shops (the same ones we lived near in Barcelona) and many other luxury stores, plus lots of cafes and restaurants. We didn't have to dart across traffic quite as much, and more than once, when a man saw me struggling with a curb, he helped me lift the stroller over it.
I did find a bottle for Greta--for $15. That's USD, not pesos. It's a regular Avent bottle, 9-ounce size, nothing out of the ordinary except that it came from a luxury baby shop. But I was desperate, and I had no idea where else I might look for a bottle that wouldn't entail dragging the girls around unhappily, so there we are. A $15 plastic baby bottle. I did not, however, spring for the $7 container of organic puffs at another baby boutique.
We spent some time at the playground today, in both morning and afternoon. Morning was fun, with the girls both engaged with some slides. Afternoon was tougher, with Greta drawn magnetically to extremely steep steps. Fortunately Andrew joined us there after a while.
Tonight, we tempted fate by going out to dinner at Acetuna, a bustling restaurant across the street from our apartment building. It's a tapas restaurant, with lots of outdoor tables, and each night we've debated whether it was the right time to try it. Each night we decided no, not the right time; but tonight, the stars (i.e., the girls' moods) seemed aligned. Despite the fact that the girls ate pretty much nothing but bread and tortillas, the meal went very well. A band had set up on the street nearby, and the girls loved listening to the music (and both danced in their seats). A success.
Our altitude sickness is a little better today, though we're bone-tired from both this and Greta's sporadic sleep. Insomnia is--Andrew found out--one of the symptoms of altitude sickness, and we've both been suffering from it. Perhaps this is Greta's problem, as well.
Lucia has been in a friendly mood lately, waving and saying "Hola!" loudly to anyone we pass on the street, and to the doorman who opens the big garage door for our stroller each time we come home. She also says a boisterous "Gracias!" Sometimes she then turns around in the stroller and exclaims proudly, "I'm learning Spanish!" We really need to get started on the language instruction, perhaps this summer. Now is truly the time.
The end of dinner:
Engrossed in Sofia the First: