We hung out for a bit in the Condesa and Roma neighborhoods. They’re nice enough, but left us feeling a bit like we could be anywhere from Minneapolis, to Buenos Aires, to Portland. Lots of cafés, and lots of nicely dressed people. Oh, and lots and lots of dogs wearing clothes. We didn’t find it very interesting, but then we also didn’t give the area much time to win us over.

Lowe has figured out the whole pedaling thing thanks to these sweet little delivery bikes. Next step is to get him a job.

He is endlessly fascinated with how things work. Riding the bike he couldn’t stop looking down at the pedals, chain, and sprocket. Gets a little dangerous at times. He ran straight into a tree at one point, didn’t get hurt at all, but scared himself so badly that he had a sobbing breakdown. When that finished he asked if we could rent the bikes again. We did.

The government set up a baseball field right in the Zócalo. It’s pretty amazing that right smack dab in the middle of this giant city there can sit a wide open central square big enough to hold a major league home-run derby contest. We showed up a little late, which meant we never made it in to the bleachers. There were tons of empty seats, but the police weren’t letting anyone else in. Things were getting a little testy between the fans trying to get in and the police keeping them out. We moved around to the outfield where my size advantage helped out. I could only do one kid at a time on my shoulders though.

Pretty much since we’ve gotten here Ouest’s stomach has been out of sorts. The past couple days she’s been laid up at home, so Lowe and I took off around the city while Ali stayed home and took care of her. We took the subway over to Chapultepec Park to walk around a bit, play, and eat some ice cream.

Lowe waiting on the train. The Metro here is a pretty well oiled machine. Getting around is easy, and at five pesos a ride I can’t imagine there is a cheaper system anywhere. Rush hour is mayhem, but from ten to four  the crowds are manageable. Not that they weren’t still packed full at those times, but nobody was shoved inside another person’s armpit. And on all four of our rides together that day someone stood up and gave up their seat for us.

We wandered in what I thought was the general direction of a playground, but after an hour—literally—of steady walking through the park, we hadn’t found one. This is one seriously large park—double the size of New York’s Central Park. We eventually made our way to one of the lakes and rented a paddle boat. Lowe is laughing in this picture because he is steering us right into a buoy. All he wanted to do was smash into things.

We had a fun boy’s day out together. Later that night Ali and I were talking and both agreed that having one kid is ridiculously easy. Not that we’re complaining about two—our grandparents would have laughed until they cried if they heard anybody complain about how hard having two kids is. We’re just saying, having only one along feels like a decadent soak in a bathtub by comparison.