Twin Tuesdays: Habana Outpost Baby Breakfast

A typical Tuesday, in a heatwave, before babies: I consume a venti iced coffee from Starbucks while attempting to look cute and professional and not sweaty, even though the temperature in the subway station I just stepped out of was flirting with 105 degrees. After ten hours in an office where I have to don a cardigan because the air was that conditioned, I meet Evan and some friends at Habana Outpost for tacos, margaritas, and delicious Mexican corn on the cob. I go to bed tipsy, happy, and sleep undisturbed until 7 a.m.

A typical Tuesday, in a heatwave, after babies: I consume homemade coffee that used to be iced, but after morning toy negotiations, yogurt clean up, four readings of Dear Zoo, and two poopy diapers, it's now just sort of lukewarm with a pool of melted ice floating on top. I dress two testy, squirmy 16-month-olds (who'd rather be naked) in adorable outfits and dash into my bedroom to dress myself, attempting to look not like a woman who just escaped from a mental institution. I meet my friend Shirin and her son, Sy, for Baby Breakfast at Habana Outpost.

It's different in the daylight: there are toys strewn around the courtyard where I'm sure at least a dozen people spilled frozen mojitos the night before (but it's been cleaned). Picnic tables are empty, a rarity for this popular spot. Shirin and I grab a seat, let the kids loose, and commiserate about how toddlers are jerks sometimes. Everyone wears themselves out, I order some chicken fingers for them to eat with the overpriced organic cantaloupe I purchased next door at my favorite local market. After a too-short nap, I spend the afternoon pulling them away from the television cabinet, which we just released from it's baby-gated prison and turned into baby catnip. Facetime with Nanna, baths, night-night, pad thai, two enormous glasses of wine. I go to bed tipsy, happy, and wake up every few hours thinking I hear someone crying but don't really until 4 a.m., when I mumble to Evan, "just give him a pacifier and make sure he has Doggie," and try to go back to sleep till 7 but instead restlessly check Redfin to see if there are any new houses on the market in Pleasantville.

The Baby Breakfast at Habana Outpost gives Brooklyn parents and caregivers a place to chill on Tuesdays from 10-noon while their 0- to 4-year-olds (though it's best for walkers and swaddled infants with moms who need some company) discover new toys and splash in the fountain. It's co-hosted by My Brooklyn Baby, which sells awesome popsicle makers and other fanciful kid-related items. Habana Outpost's full menu is served, and the courtyard is almost completely shaded in the mornings. We'll be there next Tuesday, and if this heatwave keeps up, it may then be time for a 10 a.m. margarita. See you there!