On the last day, we had Brian with us. He wanted to rent a bike to ride around Central Park with Adriana, so after finding a place where he could reserve one with a child’s seat on the back, we headed out to show him the Alice statue. It seemed mellower, easier, leaving the apartment with all of us, not just me and the girls. Adriana pointed out various rocks she’d climbed on Thursday, and delighted when Brian helped her climb around. At the statue she was so glad to have his help in climbing up onto Alice’s lap.
We walked down to the zoo again, just to get lunch at the cafeteria, and then we split up. Brian and Adriana went to pick up their bike (and I tried not to think too much about the traffic they’d be riding in on their way from the shop back into the park), and I headed back up through the park to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, because in spite of a half dozen previous trips to New York without children in tow I’d never made it to the museum. I felt free and light with just Lyra with me. She rode in the stroller until we got to the museum, where I nursed her to sleep, and I was free to see the exhibits. Overwhelmed by the size of the museum, I picked photography, Van Gogh, and Degas, and wished to see more, but after a quick trip through the modern art, it was time for me to head back down to meet Brian and Adriana.
We met up at the big playground at the bottom of the park, where Adriana played for awhile, and then we ventured out to find dinner, braving an actual restaurant, in spite of our tired, hungry children. Adriana did melt down a bit at first, but did surprisingly well in the end. And after she’d eaten plenty of spaghetti, she was energized and even walked part of the way back up to the apartment (stopping to see the Lincoln Center fountain lit up at night), before we entered the subway for one last ride.
In the morning, Brian went out to got coffee (and vanilla milk) while I finished packing up our things, and then we walked out to Broadway to get a cab.
“But I don’t want to go home,” Adriana protested. “I am still having fun.”
And I felt the exact same way.
We met up at the big playground at the bottom of the park, where Adriana played for awhile, and then we ventured out to find dinner, braving an actual restaurant, in spite of our tired, hungry children. Adriana did melt down a bit at first, but did surprisingly well in the end. And after she’d eaten plenty of spaghetti, she was energized and even walked part of the way back up to the apartment (stopping to see the Lincoln Center fountain lit up at night), before we entered the subway for one last ride.
In the morning, Brian went out to got coffee (and vanilla milk) while I finished packing up our things, and then we walked out to Broadway to get a cab.
“But I don’t want to go home,” Adriana protested. “I am still having fun.”
And I felt the exact same way.
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