If you have never gone on a road trip from Seattle, Washington, to Cannon Beach, Oregon, with someone 403 months younger than you, well, I have one piece of advice for you.
Do, or do not. There is no try.
Do not make fun of your baby by putting pants on her head before the road trip. It will come back to bite you in the ass, as in, Ruby will be grouchy at night and wake up every three hours. Because she remembered you put pants on her head.
Do stop over in Portland to have lunch at Mother’s, because they have specials like blueberry pancakes with apple sausages. And Ruby will charm the pants off everyone in the restaurant. Alas, not enough to get us a free meal.
Do not forget to pack extra long socks and thick pants because even though it’s technically summer, the cooler temperatures by the ocean will ensure that Ruby’s patch of exposed leg will be very, very cold.
Do order a too-cute-for-skool bonnet from etsy because it will prove that design and function do go together, gawddamit!
Do not let your infant sleep too much in the day as it will ensure a long night for you. Long. Night.
Do put your infant in a swimming pool for the first time even though you have reservations and the water is a mite cold because she will surprise you and enjoy it.
Do not add fries and coleslaw to your oversized Teriyaki chicken burger because it will be too much.
Do show your infant the Pacific Ocean because she will remember it when she’s 21, and call you out of the blue from college saying, “Mom, dad, I just wanted to say I love you for taking me to see the ocean when I was five months old. That rocked.” (Don’t worry, Ruby, I’ll remind you.)
Do not steal the hotel’s beach towels. No matter how much you adore the blue-and-white stripes.
Do order room service for a dinner by the sea at dusk because no one can hear the screaming baby.
Do not forget to bring 57 toys, books, and amusing paraphernalia because you will be the sole entertainment for the five-hour ride home.
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