September 12, 2012 by Marj Hatzell
Lately Bugaboo has taken to wearing pajama pants. As in, all day.
The second he walks in the door from that bus he is running up the stairs, stripping his pants off and runs back down with pajama pants on. I actually had to go out and purchase a few more pairs, as he has taken to wearing the same pair over and over, stains and smells be damned. I try to remember to get them in the wash so he can’t find them when he gets home and is forced to find another pair. But sometimes the draw of Sponge Bob or green stripes overpowers the fact that they are filthy and smelly. Ew.
Can’t say I blame him. I spend the majority of my life in yoga pants. Cotton, elastic-waistband pants are just much more comfortable, no? Like mother, like son, I s’pose.
Yesterday I wore a pair of jeans.
They were ok.
But I missed my yoga pants.
(Side note: between Memorial Day and Labor Day I wear nothing but cotton sun dresses. Mostly because I spend the majority of my time at the swim club with the Bugaboo.)
Wearing pajama pants has rules, of course. Rules according to the world of Bugaboo. In his mind, when he puts pajama pants on (used to be after dinner and bath) he has to wear a pull up. Because he wears pull ups to bed, due to the fact that the little he does sleep is HEAVY, HEAVY SLEEP. And he won’t wake up to pee. And the bed will be saturated. I do enough laundry as it is (insane amount for four people!) so I prefer the pull ups. Anywho, now that he insists on having the pants on immediately upon returning from school he also insists on a pull up. So I have to hide the pull ups.
Bugaboo is not amused. BECAUSE! RULES!
He still stops whatever he is doing and goes to the bathroom as frequently as he needs to, so that isn’t a big, fat, hairy deal or anything. But if left to his own devices, he will change (and dispose of) said pull ups each and every time he pees. About once an hour. And the pull ups aren’t wet or soiled or anything so it’s kind of a bummer when he goes through a whole pack in one weekend and I don’t notice it. Hence me hiding the pull ups (WHAT? Did you think it was because I am the meanest mommy ever?)
Naturally this means everywhere we go in public, on weekends and after school on week days, he must be wearing pajama pants. And if I make him change his clothes he NEEDS to bring the pants with him. Or he acts like he is having his eyeballs gouged out with a rusty spoon.
So basically, he’s like every other nine-year-old out there he wants to wear what he wants to wear and wants to be comfortable and doesn’t care how dirty or smelly he is. I’d say that’s some good social progress! Now, to work on his diet of chicken fingers, fries and pizza…OH WAIT! Also age appropriate! WINNING!