Broccoli, broccoli everywhere, and not a wink of sleep...

I know I mentioned a complete photographic documentation of our Thanksgiving dinner with our friends, but I will be completely honest: I forgot. So there is not a single picture of the day. I would apologize, but let's be honest here; how exactly is one supposed to photographically document such an event while simultaneously shoveling mountains of mashed potatoes and heaps of homemade stuffing into one's mouth? It seems an impossible feat, if you ask me. Which you didn't. So I'll move on.

In lieu of a stunning array of Thanksgiving photos, I bring you this:

Rhys's Favourite Vegetable of the Week is broccoli. She asked me to push all of the broccoli on her plate onto her fork, you know, "to make a forest." She then proceeded to eat the forest with such gusto that I was a bit afraid that I'd have to break out my mad first-aid skills and administer the Heimlech. She managed to finish the forest without choking, and the proceeded to eat the rest of the broccoli in the bowl. There are never leftover vegetables on broccoli night. If I left it to Rhys, we'd probably be eating broccoli every single night. While wearing pink fairy princess dresses. And ballet slippers. And singing "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star" at the top of our lungs.

Lest you somehow get the idea that Rhys is the drama queen of the bunch, please note how Mr. Attitude himself responds when told to finish his spaghetti:

Although Mr. I'm-A-Fourteen-Year-Old-Girl-in-A-Two-Year-Old-Boy's-Body has caused his fair share of dinner table dilemmas, he's also managed to become the best sleeper. Put him in bed at night, kiss him good-night, and you're done until at least 7:30 the following morning. Ditto for naptime. The girls on the other hand...

We finally moved Desi into the big bed, so now she and Rhys sleep together. They seem to absolutely love it, and how freaking cute are they when they're all snuggled up together?

But there are nights when they love sleeping together just a little too much. On those nights, they are the best friends in the world and it's a big slumber party, complete with late night giggles and midnight munchies. And even when Rhys finally admits that she just can't take it anymore, and she crashes into the deep, warm sleep of an exhausted child, Desi's still wide-eyed and raring to go. Almost every night for the past week, we've put the kids in bed, spent a whole lot of time convincing Rhys that it is, in fact, bed time, and told Desi to go to sleep before we slump ourselves on the couch in an attempt to wind down with a little mind-numbing television. Fifteen minutes laters we'd hear the rhythmic swish-thunk of a diapered backside sliding down the carpeted stairs, and sure enough, we'd find a grinning Desi, ready for some one-on-one mommy and daddy time. And it's really hard to resist this grin:

But, like the diligent parents that we are constantly trying to be, we've put her back in bed everynight with explicit instructions to go to sleep. A couple nights ago, it was well after 10 o'clock before the message finally sank in. And by that point, every last ounce of patience had been expended, and as soon as I knew she was asleep, I went to bed myself. Last night, we only had to put her back in bed once. We're keeping our fingers crossed that tonight we'll be able to put the kids in bed, stare blankly at the television without interruption for a solid hour, and then put ourselves to bed nice and early, because, quite frankly, I'm tired, and I want to sleep. So dance your heart out during the day, kiddo...

...because tonight I want you to GO TO SLEEP at least TWO HOURS before I do! Maybe some tryptophane-laden turkey would do the do the trick...