Cozies are what my middle son calls them. Whatever moniker they go by most parents can attest that their kids have some fascination with pajamas. My nieces went through a nightgown stage. They insisted on wearing a nightgown to bed each night and the more “princessed-up” the oversized shirt was, the better. I still laugh when I think about my very masculine brother-in-law searching around the cottage for the nightgown before his daughter would even contemplate going to bed.
My own son went through what we refer to as the “jam” phase. Every day he woke up, changed out of one set of pajamas and into a new pair. He wore them everywhere. And I mean EVERYWHERE. He wore the footed onesies in 25 degree weather to the park. He wore the “dog suit” to school where upon his three year old classmates agreed he was stylin’ in his pilled cotton sleep suit with the faded bulldog on his chest.
Wherever we went, I was met with stares, raised eyebrows and chuckles from other parents. As a believer in the Adlerian method, I turned to Alyson Schafer for advice whom reassured me that one day he would grow tired of wearing his pajamas and realize that in our society we just don’t do that.
Does she realize whom she is dealing with here? Tenacious is a gross understatement.
At the start of this phase I took the boys for their regular doctor check-ups. There sat my son on the examining table in his green, white and blue striped pajamas. Immediately my doctor inquired if he was unwell.
The doctor had given this phase 6 weeks tops, but 3 months later when we came back to the office for some other affliction, there sat my little man, clothed in his fleecy finery.
I was not at all surprised by his staunchness. This is the same kid who cried from 7 – 9 pm every night for the first year of his life, regardless of where we were or what we were doing. You could set your watch by his accuracy.
And then just as soon as it started, it stopped. One morning instead of switching one set of pjs for another, he chose a pair of blue elastic waist track pants and a long-sleeved graphic t-shirt. When he made his way to the breakfast table, I glared at his father warning him not to peep a word.
Almost two years later my son still loves nothing more than changing into his favourite cozies. He looks forward to the end of the day when he can discard his street clothes for the comfort of his pajamas.
So you can understand my excitement when a friend introduced me to a product that marries my son’s favourite thing with the quality that I admire most about him: imagination and pajamas!
Tune in tomorrow to discover Playjamas and read my interview with the creative mind behind this genius product, and soon to be mom of 4 boys, Miranda