The Jamma Phase

For two weeks, our mornings have gone like this:

“Pickle, go get dressed.” She pulls the eye avoiding-inspecting of imaginary materials-scowl. I repeat myself and then it turns into a whiny “I don’t want to do it by myself.” Uh, I’m sorry…since when? She’s little miss independent while she’s wreaking havoc, but helpless when it comes to normal tasks.*

By the time I’m finally frustrated, she’s on her way to her room where she hems and haws over what to wear…but she’s only looking in the pajama drawer. She’s very specific in this new phase – she only wants to wear pajamas…fleece pajamas. Yep, the two piece (hotter than heck) fleece pajamas. It’s worked out that she has two pairs of almost identical Frozen pajamas, but the snowflake patterns on the bottoms are not exactly the same.

Today, she put one pair half-way on and then changed her mind to the other pair. This happened after she said “I want my Paw Patrol jammas”…which she happened to know were in the laundry room. She actually walked into the laundry room to get them, but Mommy was smart enough to bury them in a laundry basket. She was super happy when I suggested we pick out some new fleece fabric at the store and I’ll make her new “jammas”. That got her excited, then I realized that I’m probably going to be making five pairs of the same exact fleece pajama bottoms…and she’ll be “so over” jammas next week.

Today; after she was finally dressed in her dirty pajama shirt from last night and the “right” snowflake bottoms, I told her to find socks. “No, socks!” At this point, we’re thirty minutes late and I don’t care if she wear socks or not. As I’m running downstairs to gather the daily pile of bags to take to school/work, she starts crying at the top of the stairs: “I can’t come down by myself…”. Um, remember a few weeks ago, when she snuck upstairs by herself and stamped the shit out of herself and the carpet? Yeah, she doesn’t either. Oh.My.Lanta. We compromise and meet halfway on the stair landing. On the way to the car, I hand her a warm piece of naan bread and she’s happy.

I tried Target today at lunch thinking I could find some fleece pj’s on the clearance rack, but not one fleece bottom was to be found. But there were a ton of bun-hugging shorts and tank tops for toddlers…why not, it’s 50’ in Alaska. I guess I should be happy that she’s not trying to wear shorts and sandals to school…that’ll probably be next week. *She pulled this at the vet’s office last week for her three year appointment. She pretended that she couldn’t hear or speak when the vet asked questions. The vet told her to get herself dressed and she pretended she didn’t know how. It was rad…how’s that for development? When we got to the car, I asked her why she wouldn’t talk to the vet and she told me she was “shy”. What?! How do you even know that word and why would you pretend you were shy?