I'm not sure how much the 'kiki' (pacifier) is a tool to provide Carrie and I to sleep rather than my kids. My guess is that it's at least in the 50/50 range, if not weighted more heavily in our favor. Despite this, until now, favorable coexistence, these suckerlings will be phased out after the holidays. The fact that Owen woke up crying after his early this morning does not bode well for this plan. Nevertheless!
A night out was had at the Reddest of Lobsters last night. Booths have become the seating arrangement of choice when dining out with the kids. It provides for a somewhat corralled freedom of movement for Paige and Owen, which in turn frees Carrie and I from constantly trying to keep them in their chairs. As yet they have not shown interest in sliding underneath the table, so there's that to look forward to. I had a brief moment of nostalgic clarity when Paige (whose attachment to me means I get to corral her more often in these situations) wouldn't stop staring over the top of the booth seat at the patrons seated behind us. I, of course, told her to stop rubber-necking, and was instantly transported to a restaurant in Austria or Switzerland circa 1982, when the same comment by my very own father, set his kids to laughing and craning their necks in what was, for them, rather a humorous fashion. Not, I think, his intent.
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