I’ve been to Seattle a handful of times, mostly in the winter, so obviously I didn’t see much sun or the mountain views. Seattle in the summer is amazing. Clean. Clear. Fresh.
Flight time from Oakland was quick and a short walk outside of Sea-Tac’s terminal we found the Central Link Light Rail that took us directly to our hotel – Westin Seattle Downtown. The hotel was popular for conferences and corporate meeting space, but the location was fantastic and I thought they catered to families really well. The crib they provided was like something the royal babies would sleep in.
Since the weather was perfection, we spent most of our time in Seattle outside exploring with the Baby Bjorn Carrier. Of course we did…
And watched the fish guys throw salmon…
We ate lunch at Serious Pie (amazing pizza). And dinner at Iver’s…
Splashed at Seattle Center…
And Space Needled….
I had been to the Science Center a few times before, and I knew Claire wouldn’t get anything out of it, so instead we did a very sweaty walk to the Flagship REI – about two miles from our hotel. Seattle can definitely get HOT, and carrying a baby on the front didn’t help keep cool. But it was worth the hike. The store is set up to be an outdoor playground – a mountain bike test trail outside, kids playground, massive fireplace (didn’t need that today), cafe, rock climbing wall, and of course multi-levels of amazing gear.
Pioneer Square – very cool, gentrified area. We didn’t do an Underground Tour, but they looked awesome.
We had been gone on our multi-city trip for almost a week, and Claire hadn’t cried once. She napped in the stroller, fell asleep without a problem, and ate when she was hungry. And then, our last night in Seattle happened. Between our hotel and Pike’s Place Market, near Post Alley sits a very cute, very French cafe, called Le Pichet. We had walked by it several times during our stay and I really wanted to eat there. It was a small galley-style cafe with four bistro tables outside sitting amongst the brick walls of downtown Seattle.
“Two adults and a high chair,” I requested.
“Oh, we don’t have high chairs, miss,” the hostess replied.
I looked around and only saw couples and possible Tinder dates sitting outside. I looked at Claire. She was sound asleep in the stroller.
“Oh, no problem; we’ll just take a table for two. She’ll probably just sleep through dinner,” I said unknowingly (but confidently).
Ever since this meal, I now always (ALWAYS) ask a restaurant if they have high chairs. If they don’t we move on to one that does. We hadn’t even gotten our wine yet, and Claire wakes up screaming. And I mean screaming that probably woke up the salmon swimming north of the city. I pulled her out of her stroller and put her on my lap (which never provides a relaxing dinner). I tried to feed her. I got up. I tried walking her down the street. I tried the few toys in the diaper bag. I tried bread. I even tried a lollipop. Nothing. She was just mad. And we were not going to enjoy our dinner. At. All.
“We’ll take our dinner to go please,” Randy told the waiter.
A glass of wine chugged. Check paid. We walked out with two paper bags of French food. We ate in our hotel lobby. Claire was happy again. Until next time, Le Pichet. For now, high chair and crayon availability is a must when dining out with a baby.