the trouble with baby proofing

We cannot open our cabinets anymore, and it is tremendously annoying. Last night I wanted to throw out the wrapper from the pork we were cooking (okay, that Thad was cooking) for dinner, so using my porky hands I try to stealthily open the cabinet with the trash can and am greeted by about an inch of freedom and then - ugh - the door stops. So, after some ungraceful fidgeting, I finally open the cabinet and not only do I need to wash the raw pork residue off my hands but now I also have to clean the cabinet. I have a feeling that Nate will figure out how to open the safety locks before we do, which will really be terrific. Then this morning I called Julia's Mom (alias: Courtney) and she couldn't get to the phone within the five or so rings before voicemail kicked in because she was impeded by baby gates. Too bad she ran cross country instead of hurtles. Ah, the perils of being a parent of a mover and shaker (speaking of which, anyone seen Dylan's fabulous dance moves over at bleisenblog? I cannot wait until Nate can dance like that!)