It’s no secret, that as a lover of pajamas (e.g., my alias, Jammie J.), that I would have a love of footed jammies. I have several: the Grinch, a reindeer, Eeyore — to name a few. That I now have a child that I can dress in them as well is a dream come true for me, as I’m sure you can imagine! And the nights are getting cooler, so he’s been waking up cold in the wee hours of the morning. You know what that means??? IT’S TIME FOR FOOTIE JAMMIES!
So it was that I bought William two footed sleepers at Costco a couple days ago. Tuesday night, I let him pick which one he wanted to wear, the green striped raccoon or firetrucks. When I held them up for him to see, he made his choice by excitedly exclaiming, “PIRETRUCKS,” and cried when I offered the raccoon choice. OK then, that’a pretty clear preference I would say.
That night I watched on the video monitor as he struggled to get into his butt-in-air-fetal-favorite-sleeping-position, but wasn’t able to because the 3T size I had purchased him was too freakin’ short. Fast forward to 3:30 am, when he woke because he was again attempting that position and couldn’t do it and it finally woke him up — and what does he say to me in his sleep stupor haze, as I lift him out of his crib?
So an emergency trip to Costco yesterday for the larger size was made, and last night he wore 4T. For the first time in a week, William slept through. When he woke this morning, he told me “LegoLand!” Assuming he’d dreamt of Legoland, I asked him what he had seen there. He replied, “Bricks! People! Firetrucks!” I knew the firetrucks would be in there somewhere… haha
Although given the chance of uninterrupted sleep, I unwittingly failed miserably. It’s not for the reason you’re thinking, either. You see, my alarm went off this morning at 6 am, as usual. Or so I thought. Despite feeling more tired than usual, I got up and went downstairs to load my car. I forgot something in the fridge, so I returned to the kitchen and glanced at the clock… 4:09 am. It should have read 6:09 am. Bemused, it suddenly made sense as to why all the cats were looking at me like I’d lost my mind. I knew what had happened. A certain little somebody who has an obsession with pushing buttons, had set the time on my bedside clock to 2 hours earlier.
(Filed under: First Footed Sleeper of the Season Gone Awry)