All parents have those moments when they believe they will never, ever, eat anywhere finer than McDonald's until their children head off to college. For me, that time came when my daughter was a very unruly, ketchup-splattered 18-month-old.
Yet, less than two years later, I found myself working as a restaurant reviewer. Dining out several times a week suddenly was the norm.
First thing I did? Draw up a roster of baby sitters. Second thing? Figure out what to do if Caroline came along. Sometimes I wanted her there -- she was my test child for family restaurants.