The Revolution will not be televised (but someone might blog about it)

I don't know how long this devious plan has been in the works, but tonight is when it all came to fruition. The evening started off normally enough (isn't that always the case?). Did Cora want to put on her pajamas? No. Did she want to now? No. How about now? Only if it means taking clothes off first. Oh. right. OK, pajamas on, phase one complete.

Did Cora want to brush her teeth? No. Did she want to now? No. How about now? No - she's rather...brush teeth! Why didn't you say so? Brushing teeth! Yes! Hooray! Let's run to the bathroom while wiggling the upper half of our body from side to side! Hooray! Phase two complete.

And now, time to go upstairs. First, of course, we need to find and cuddle Baby Tidoo. No. Wait - what about Baby Tidoo? No. Ivy. Baby Ivy. Well, okay, here's Baby Ivy, and here's Baby Tidoo. No. No?

No.

Very firmly and with an unmistakeable pushing away of Baby Tidoo. So, finally, tonight Baby Ivy got to go upstairs and be held for stories. And for songs. And then... Blankie. Baby Ivy Blankie.

She got her own blanket.

I don't know about you, but I smell revenge in the air.

Baby Tidoo plots her return to power.