Give Peace a Chance...

The promotion of independence is something I'm always for, after all, I'm an American.  It's important to realize that Freedom is something that is earned, sometimes fought for, and to earn it, you sometimes must go to war.  I, however, am against war.  I think it's unnecessary in so many cases when a good negotiation team could just hammer out details and trade agreements can be reached.  Being of the Anti-War opinion though, doesn't mean that you can just take the "no war" approach when it's being waged in your own backyard; you have to stand up, stand firm, and above all, hold the line.  And, by own backyard, I don't mean Canada.  

When B declared "War" on me yesterday, I felt a little unprepared.  I didn't know we were even in prewar negotiations.  To be frank, I think that she just declared it with no talks at all.  I could be mistaken though, because we didn't have a reliable interpreter present who spoke both languages, and like French, I understand more "B" than I speak, which I think she finds frustrating and just a little insulting.  Her portions of the conversation were broken and garbled, and came spilling out of little lips along with snot and tears, but from what I understood, the statement went a little like this:

B does not sleep in a big girl bed for nap.  B sleep in mommy daddy bed.  Now!

Being a mother of some skills, I simply scooped her up, dropped her in her big girl bed, shut and locked her door, and then put a gate up in front of her door.  Sounds reasonable right? Case closed.  Bed selection has been made.  Well, B has apparently done extensive SEAL team P.O.W. training and can now escape from anywhere, because the next thing I knew there was a LOUD crash upstairs and 30 seconds later, B was standing at the top of the stairs continuing her tirade about beds, naps and what exactly was going to go down.

In short.  She's a climber.  I don't know what I thought a baby gate designed for the containment of babies was going to do.