bar hopping w the grammas

We have transitioned from Gramma Lo to Gramma Sam after a half-week on our own (not sure how we made it without grandmother support for that long. . ).   Oddly, we have taken Soren to the local Irish bar now twice in his short life, once with each Gramma.  Both Grammas handled this similarly: happy to relish in pub-fare and the compliments of other bar-goers - "what an adorable baby!" and (without any evidence) "he must be very smart!", but also occasionally a little guilt-ridden for allowing their grandsons to hang at a bar.

Yesterday, we watched the Bears in a frustrating loss to the Packers, but at least it was in projected high-definition.  Soren, for his part, seems to enjoy the place, with the heavy Christmas lighting and bar noises.  Above, Gramma Sam put him on his tummy, which he seemed to enjoy/tolerate.  Alden is up for the bar also, since no one minds if he runs laps/bumps fists with strangers (U of M soccer coach, yesterday)/randomly measures items with a tape measure from Gramma's purse ("christmas tree . . . 2 pounds. . . . arm. . . 10 pounds.")

Truthfully, these have been great days as Soren has pretty consistently dropped to two feeds a night (down from, say, 10.)  Mom and dad are re-surfacing to the world, looking forward to holidays with family coming.