Babymoon in Atlantic City 2014

When I was pregnant with James we had a "stabymooon" which is a word Allison made up to help me describe a cross between a babymoon and "staycation." The word "staycation" was all the rage back then because the media had to find a way to talk about people being poor in the new economy in a way that didn't sound totally depressing. But since we live in New York, staying nearby still allowed us to do basically anything we could imagine.

This time, we waited a little longer, and I was a little wiser to the fact that walking too much would be unpleasant, so I thought it would be nice to just soak in a hotel pool somewhere.  Hotel room rate comparison revealed that the cheapest rate anywhere in our vicinity was actually in Atlantic City. I guess the theory is that you will make up for the cheap room rate by spending money on gambling and food at the casino. Plus, the Borgata has a much nicer pool than we could get locally.

James's first time at a casino

Gambling all my pennies on wishes in the fountain

When we got there Kevin stood online behind hundreds of senior citizens waiting to check in early while I entertained James with a walk around the Borgata. As soon as we were checked in we changed into our bathing suits and went for a swim. Two interesting things: one is that it's kind of liberating to be so huge. It felt really awesome to wear a bathing suit and not suck in my tummy. Second, going swimming in my 3rd trimester was accidental genius. The minute I stepped into the water, the reduced gravity felt like a huge relief on my back. It was like handing the baby to someone else to hold for a minute. I could lie on my stomach. I could even bend a little at the waist. It was magical.

James and I are all suited up

For James, the swimmies took some getting used to, and he alternated between being afraid and clingy and trying to assert his almost-3-year-old independence. But we couldn't get him to try floating on his own until it was almost time to go to dinner. He loved the pool though.

Clingy fun in the pool

Trying to teach him to kick or tread water

Clingy fun with Dada

Trying to dunk Dada

Family picture on a timer!

Look Ma! No hands! (OMG,look at that cute face!)

Promptly starts swimming away

We all took quick showers before dinner, which was itself an experience for James since he usually only takes baths. He seemed to enjoy the shower a lot as long as it didn't get his face wet at all. Ha. We went to dinner at a casual noodles place called N.O.W. where you had to sit at long tables with strangers. At least James was decently good at the restaurant and even ate a lot of dinner. He even got almost an entire mango juice to himself.

Walking to dinner inside the Borgata

Me and baby girl at dinner

After dinner, James and I shared a big gelato at Borgata Gelato, then we went to bed. Kevin went gambling for a little while as part of his pre-baby relaxation. I was happy to have gone to bed with James, when James woke up super early the next morning. After a big breakfast we went swimming again before checkout. This time James was a lot more comfortable with trying to swim back and forth between me and Kevin or being shuttled around by us in the pool. A very successful (and pleasantly short) babymoon overall. We agreed that James had the most fun, and when we got home he declared that he didn't want to be home, he wanted to "go back to the big house," which is what he decided to call the Borgata. Maybe in another 18 years, buddy.

Sharing gelato.

Our last visit to a casino was in Vegas in July.

Things My Wife Complains About: #17 Spending an Entire Day in the City Doing Everything She Wants to Do

If you're not currently pregnant or haven't been pregnant in the immediate past, you've never heard of a "babymoon." A "babymoon" is a way to spend money on yourself, instead of the child growing inside of you, which seems sensible if you're receiving weekly emails telling you what vegetable your fetus is the size of (current size: maize). In lieu of traveling somewhere exotic with someone who let her passport expire, hates flying, is uncomfortable everywhere, and doesn't like the way she looks in anything but a Snuggie, I decided we might take advantage of the things she's long wanted to do in New York but hasn't done because those things are boring.

We started by going for soup dumplings. My wife didn't complain about the soup dumplings unless expressing frustration that the soup dumplings weren't on the menu and wondering why I'd take her somewhere for soup dumplings that doesn't have soup dumplings sounds like a complaint (note: the people next to us were loudly and obviously eating soup dumplings). Next we made it through nearly twenty yards of Central Park before my wife complained that she was tired--a reasonable claim for someone in her advanced state--so we did what anyone tired does and took several hundred photos of her belly in front of bushes.

After Central Park, we went to the American Museum of Natural History, which I will confess is not boring, if only for the floating blue whale the size of a rocket ship and Brontosaurus in disguise. Unfortunately, my wife turned into the little-understood Pregosaurus halfway through the museum. The Pregosaurus, I learned, is low to the ground and slow moving. It is unpredictable, omnivorous, and has to sit in Starbucks between feedings to complain about its feet.

Pregosaurus and Allosaurus
For the evening portion of the "Babymoon," we took in the Radio City Christmas Spectacular, sponsored by every corporation in the United States. This is the narrative arc of the RCCS for the uninitiated: Santa invents reasons for forty white women to kick their legs in the air for an hour (rising tension), some kid suddenly and unconvincingly discovers the True Meaning of Christmas (climax), Jesus--unmentioned to that point--is born in front of live camels (denouement). Before any of this happened, my wife went to the restroom. When she came out, she said, I can't tell you how many things I have to complain about in there.

Possible Solutions!

1) Turn the "Babymoon" into a "Maybemoon," in which we discuss all the things we might do; ultimately, do nothing
2) Preemptively complain about crazy things (could this sunset BE more orange?) and see how wife responds
3) Invent "Husbandmoon," which takes place in Florida during Spring Training and is greeted enthusiastically by a lack of complaints (hard)