Babymoon

Top Left: Me sailing The Woodwind, much like Christopher Walken.
Top Right: Kathy Lee Gifford. For real.
Bottom Left: Annapolis sunset.
Bottom Right: Dad posing on The Woodwind.

Dear Baby Girl,

The elusive “Baby Moon” has—from the very beginning of this pregnancy—been something I didn’t think was in the cards for your father and I. Zika ruled out us traveling to any tropical locations, home renovations consumed the more mobile part of my pregnancy, and generally the activities that I like to do when on vacation are… well, active (although I’m not quite to your Uncle Ben’s level, non-pregnant Taylor can hold her own). Anyway after nonchalantly discussing the matter, your decisive father took action and booked an overnight stay in Annapolis—nice and easy trip, on the water to escape the heat, solid eateries, and sailboats. Done and done.

Our little getaway had a couple of minor blips, but nothing we couldn’t overcome. First of all, it was so hot that weekend that even the waterfront location did little to subdue the summer weather. Referencing my favorite local weatherman, Chuck Bell, this August has been the hottest August on record in the DC area, and this summer falls in the top three hottest. The Saturday that we went to Annapolis was triple digits. When we got there on Saturday afternoon, we got lunch, moseyed around town for a while, got some ice cream, and then took a solid nap in the air conditioning before dinner. Post dinner, Dad had a nightcap at the restaurant and I had the virgin version of the “World Famous Pusser’s Painkiller,” (funny that this even has a virgin version) and we called it a night.

That night, I woke up even more times than usual sweating hot. Each time I got up, I turned the AC up more and more. It got to the point where I had the temperature set at 62 degrees, and was still uncomfortably hot (as you know, this is very uncharacteristic of me). In the morning, your father and I both woke up exhausted because apparently he had suffered the same fate. So—pregnancy was out as for the culprit of my mysterious hot flash. Anyway, we went about our business and ordered room service for breakfast. When it was delivered, and the man saw that I was pregnant, he gasped and started apologizing profusely.  Apparently, the air conditioning at the hotel had been broken the entire night. Can’t make these things up, Baby Girl, can’t make them up.

I make it sound like this ruined the weekend, but it really didn’t. We had an excellent dinner at the “Chart House” where Kathy Lee Gifford was sitting at the table right next to us. As a crazy stalker of celebrities, I was very excited about this. Normally I have little shame in bothering celebrities for photo ops during their personal time with their family, but I didn’t feel as if I quite had enough conversational knowledge about Kathy Lee to approach her. So I took the even more stalker approach and just snuck pictures. It was very exciting and dinner was excellent. Apparently Dad had a phenomenal Pinot Noir. I wouldn’t know.

The next day, Dad had organized a two hour sailing tour on “The Woodwind,” the very sailboat used in filming the legendary and timeless movie, “Wedding Crashers.” It was very cool. The crew had a photo album that basically showed Vince Vaughn reading a newspaper where I was sitting (I can tell you if Vince had been sitting at the table next to us at the Chart House I would not have been so shy). I took a turn at the wheel of the boat, as I thought it would be funny for a pregnant lady to do such a thing, but the captain seemed unimpressed. He mentioned nothing about you, but only asked if I had sailed before. I got irritated by this and told him yes; I learned to sail in Maine where it is much windier than Chesapeake Bay. He countered that he also learned in Maine at Maine Maritime. Clearly we were at a standstill. I went back to my seat. Several others on the tour took their turn at the wheel, including a little girl. Dad and I will surely take you back to Annapolis so you can have your turn at the wheel and the captain. Like me, you will also probably have prior knowledge of sailing because Grandpa Steve intends to teach you in Florida on a catamaran, as he taught me in Maine. So don’t take any shit from these Marylanders. Sailing a catamaran is more impressive than steering a schooner any day, any time.

The sail, however, was very nice and Dad and I enjoyed our time on the water. When we got back to the hotel, we had a quick bite at the bar, and got ready to leave. As Dad was paying the bill, he got a call from the front desk. Apparently a van had scraped his truck in the parking lot. This was rather disconcerting as we had valeted the truck per the hotel’s requirement. When we went up to the valet to inquire about the situation and ask how such an event had happened the valet answered, “We’re very sorry, we normally do not allow anyone in our valet parking lot, but today we made an exception for the AC repairman. He scraped your truck with his van.”

Again… Can. Not. Make. This. Up. Oh, the irony.

At this point, the Babymoon ups and downs are kind of comical. We’ve been promised a free night’s stay at the hotel, and perhaps we’ll reserve that for the fall, lest the air conditioner suffer another bout of ill fate. Perhaps you shall get to see Annapolis sooner rather than later, Baby Girl. Hope you weren’t too hot in there!

Love,

Mom

As a consolation prize for the lack of air conditioning
we picked up Georgetown cupcakes on the way home.
Dad had one, and I had three. Perfect ratio.