When we first moved Liza from crib to toddler bed, everything went well. In fact, it went amazingly well: she slept through the night, and when she woke up and was ready to come out, she knocked on the wall until we came and let her out.
Then she discovered that she can open the door herself.
We found this out last week, when at 4 in the morning Misty and I woke up to discover Liza standing beside our bed, staring at us like she was auditioning to be one of the Children of the Corn With Optional Pacifier Attachment. She was no longer content to wake up and wallow in her luxurious bed. Now she wanted to be up and active!
Since she and Eli are binary stars, doomed to orbit about each other, she now gets up at 5:30 or so and goes into his room. She wakes him up and they both get in his bed to “sleep” some more, where by “sleep” I mean giggle incessantly. Then they start playing, soon shrieking loudly. Just this week at 6 AM I awoke to Liza’s high-pitched cries of “¡Arriba!” and “¡Abajo!” If the live Dora the Explorer show ever comes to Huntsville, I’m going to buy a ticket just so I can punch Ms. Marquez in her nose.
We’ve got a bunch of those doorknob covers that are supposed to make it hard for toddlers to open doors. Is it wrong to put one on the inside of her door? Because right now I’m thinking I need to correct evolution’s egregious mistake of giving her thumbs.