I never know the right way to spell the word pajamas. Pyjammas? Jammies. PJs.
I had an idea today: I’m going to make a photo book for Soph with a poem I wrote about her and the photos will be of her in, what else, PJs. I’d written the poem a while ago but I don’t remember when. It was maybe about two years after we came home from China with new 22-month old toddler. I didn’t write the date on it but I should have. I wish I wrote more frequently, instead of a couple of what I think are half-decent poems every few years.
Coming up with the photos won’t be a prob because I have lots of her wearing jammies. When we first got home from China both she and I spent several hours a day lounging in them. We were getting to know each other, we were jet lagged, had bad colds, it was winter, and I was figuring out how to mom a 22-month old. The situation definitely called for PJs.
Not sure if I should save it as an actual present since Christmas is far away and her birthday’s after Christmas. Maybe as a finishing school gift? Or just as a keepsake for us to read together and help her learn to read? Hmm. Well I’ll get working on it anyway and maybe it won’t even be ready until Christmas.