Houdini

The other night, while we were in Caitlin's room going through her lengthy post-bath/pre-bedtime book reading and toy playing routine, she opened the door from her room into the bathroom, and I swore a lot of swear words. Loudly.

Because while Brigid has always been relatively well-behaved and has (up until these last few months, anyway) tended to listen to us when we've told her no, Caitlin has never really had any moment when the word no has made any sense to her, other than already knowing that if she makes a really sad face and starts crying when she hears it, she can at least get hugs out of the deal. And while we have no hope in stopping her, we have at least managed to contain her behind closed doors, when we just haven't had to energy to stop her in her quest to destroy every room of the house on a daily basis. And now that hope is gone. GONE, I TELL YOU.

Oddly enough, my dogs ALSO know how to open these doors, and we're already in the habit of keeping our back door locked, so various creatures currently living in my house can't let themselves in and out of it without my knowledge. And while I'm fairly confident I don't have to worry about the dogs learning to unlock the doors in order to get them open, I'm guessing I don't have that luxury with Caitlin, and she'll learn to use that lock well before I'm ready for that to happen.

I'm going to have to take a page from my friend Jen's book, and deadbolt every door in the house, at Steve's height level or something, just to keep her from wandering the neighborhood on her own.

She's going to be...fun...as she gets older, I think.