Not So Sure-Footed

OK, so I'm not so keen on the cute, Winter, footy-pajamas right now. They do look cute, of course. And kind of Christmas-y. But let me paint a picture (or two) for you... First, there is the middle-of-the-night bathroom run for Natalie. You know the one. It starts as a whine and moves into a moaning cry, and then you realize that she must have to go but she can't wake herself up enough to walk to the bathroom. So you trudge up the steps and ask her if she has to go, and she nods yes, with her eyes closed. And so you walk her to the bathroom, then realize that in footy pjs you have to actually unzip them all the way, and pull them entirely down around her ankles in order for her to go, and it is chilly at night, and so the moaning and crying never stop because now she's freezing cold AND has to go. Then when she is finally finished, the pjs have slipped entirely off and now the feet are somehow turned inside out, and so she is on the floor, still crying, while you struggle to right the feet and then you get the wrong footy on the wrong foot and have to start over. You get the idea... I can't even begin to imagine how she could have managed this herself in the middle of the night since I could not do it.

Then, let me paint another picture. One of a smaller boy...who is quite pleased with the fact that zippers are so easy and....zippy. Picture a sunny morning, roused by the call of the young boy's giggles. A lightness in your step because the boy sounds so darn happy this morning. Opening the door to find the boy, quite happy, with a grin from ear to ear. Also urine from head to toe, and the footy pjs and the diaper in the corner of the crip...on top of dripping wet sheets and blankets.

No more footy pajamas. For anyone.