Wednesday, December 26, 2012

The Christmas Pajamas

type A personality: A temperament characterized by excessive ambition, aggressioncompetitivenessdrive, impatience, need for control, focus on quantity over quality and unrealistic sense of urgency. (via

If you're reading this blog, regardless of how well you may know me (or if you know me at all) you may have come to the conclusion, at some point during my many, many ramblings, that the above definition is a most suitable description of myself. I do my very best to not hide my true personality in my writing, regardless of how neurotic I may come across. This is me... for better or worse, this is really me.

I have never doubted that I possess some amount of Type A, but the last line in the definition states that the individual may have an "unrealistic sense of urgency". Well, I have this down to an art and the events of today will prove this theory undeniably accurate. Observe, the story of the Christmas pajamas.


It all started a couple of weeks ago... I was checking out the "gifts under $25" post via Your Modern Couple when I saw the cuuuuuutest pair of gold dotted white flannel pj's from Target. Darling. I immediately started plotting how cute it would be if I could get my hands on them, and maybe monogram my initials on the front pocket, paint my toes gold, and prep myself for the most fabulous Christmas morning outfit ever. You see... last year, also while visiting Spencer's family, I noticed that the camera never stopped flashing... even when you have that 'just-rolled-out-of-bed-no-time-for-makeup-barely-combed-my-hair' look coupled with the equally interesting 2XL night shirt and mismatched pajama bottoms. It's quite a look... let me tell you. 

Unfortunately, things got busy and I sort of forgot about my grand idea. Momentarily

I revisited the grand plan on the day before Christmas. Also known as Christmas Eve. You know... one of the busiest shopping days of the year.

It started innocently. A quick trip to Target for a cute pair of matching pajamas.
Note: The matching part of this story is crucial. I had my eyes set on the original pajamas (which were no longer available by this point) and they were a two-piece set. Therefore, this set had to be a two-piece set. Refer back to the Type A definition. 

Luckily, there was a sale. Even better, the jammies were CUTE. After trying on a couple of different ones, and getting the opinions of everyone in the pajama-going entourage, I settled on a teal, button-front set with little owls performing various winter-y tasks (you know... skiing, sledding, tree-trimming... all of the things you might find an owl doing). I was happy. I approached the register and as the girl rang me up, she announced my total... "that'll be $32.34". Excuse moi? The sign clearly read 50% off! "I can call someone to go take a look for you", she said. I agreed. Another employee followed shortly, shaking her head in sympathy, "I'm sorry", she said, "these aren't on sale". A normal person would have probably either a.) just bought them anyway--afterall, these were suddenly an urgent necessity, or b.) said "no thanks" and walked away. I chose option B. I guess everyone has their limits. 

This story could have ended here, with either scenario. But no... I was on a mission. A mission for Christmas pajamas. This would simply not do.

Spencer volunteered to take me to the mall after lunch so that I could find some. We started at JCPenny and moved on (unsuccessfully) to Victoria's Secret, Bealls, Gap, Dillards, American Eagle, and Express. By this point, an hour had passed. Now... notice that I didn't say I didn't find any that I liked, because that simply wasn't true. Every pair of themed pajamas I picked up, be it snowflakes, flannel, or matching plaid sets, Spencer proclaimed "my mother has those". Obviously, this wouldn't bother me, but I can't say the same for him. Spencer and Kristen (his sister who had joined us) were ready to go home, but I was fueled.

We drove across the parking lot to Old Navy. Surely they will have something, right? Wrong. Apparently, there was a massive sale on pajamas earlier in the morning. The aisles were wiped clean as though the Mayan Apocalypse had struck down right here in this very spot. The only thing I could find were a pair of bottoms with dancing stars. As I said before... everyone has their limits.

In this same vicinity, we tried Kohls (where I nearly had a 'I'm-never-going-to-find-anything-I'd-better-just-buy-these-rose-print-pajamas-that-I'm-pretty-sure-every-nursing-home-resident-owns' meltdown, but we persevered). Luckily, I was talked off the ledge and we proceeded to Ross, World Market (for beer), and on to United (for groceries) and Walgreens. Now, to be fair... I did find a pair of bottoms at Walgreens, but I was sternly warned before exiting the car that if I was to come back with a pair of pajamas from Walgreens, I would not be allowed back in the car. Tough crowd.

There was one place I had not been to. One place I was sure to never go in this car: Walmart. Seeing as I was accompanied by two anti-Walmart enthusiasts, I knew there was no way I was stepping foot in the parking lot... despite my pleas. I sulked the whole way home, quietly, determined, scheming up a plan to get there.

Spencer's mother is a frequent Walmart shopper, and has no shame in this. "It has everything I need", she disputes... an argument lost on her children. I knew there was hope. We emerged from the car, only a few grocery bags in hand when we were met with the inevitable question "did you find any pajamas?". I lurched into my sob story, already putting my plan into action. Spencer's father offered to drive me to Walmart, but of course, would not exit the car. Again... I was told by my beloved I would not be allowed in the house. I could see this was going nowhere, and I started to shift my tactic. I was desperate. "Will someone please take me to Target? I will pay the $30-plus dollars, I JUST HAVE TO HAVE CHRISTMAS PAJAMAS!"

About an hour later, Spencer's mother called me into the kitchen. "I have a plan", she said. I was intrigued. "I'm going to come into the living room in a couple of minutes and say that I ran out of milk, and I am going to make a grocery run. Then together, we'll go to Walmart." "OKAY!", I exclaimed, "...but could you say we are going to Target so there is no question?" She gave me a funny look, but agreed. Sure enough... the plan worked, and we were off to Walmart at 9 PM on Christmas Eve.

Now, if this is something you've never experienced, there's probably a reason for that and you should trust your judgement. The place was crawling with people. Every square inch there was someone, buying something, for someone. But I managed to come out ahead. Racing toward the intimates section, I bobbed in and out of people trying on sunglasses, hats, and scarves. I flew past the moms and dads buying CD's for their children, and children whining over their need to get home so Santa will come. I finally reached the PJ's and to my amazement, there were several options to chose from. My sights landed on a matching grey set, with little Scottie dogs wrapped in red, pink, and green bones. Adorable. It was mine.

We raced home, while I transferred our loot into a Target bag. We discarded the evidence (the Walmart bag) in the garage. Our plan had went off without a hitch, and they were none the wiser to our grand scheme. Success.

So, I couldn't drone on and on without showing you a picture of the infamous pajamas (and matching socks, thank you very much, because... why not?). But please, BE WARNED, the below picture was taken Christmas morning and I am not wearing a lick of makeup. If you have a weak stomach... avert your eyes. It's the bare-faced full monty here, people.

These are darling. Take my word for it. 

And, just because it would be cruel to make you sit through this entire rambling post for that, here are some additional pictures of Christmas morning. We awoke to snow (again this year!) and it snowed all day long. There was family in and out all day long, a delicious lunch of turkey, ham, brisket, dressing, cranberry sauce, potatoes, roasted green beans, mushrooms, asparagus, and brussels sprouts, and more gifts than I have ever seen in my life. It was a fun day!

"the kids" opening their stockings.
coffee in hand, of course. 

spencer opening london's stocking.

me with both of our kiddo's stockings.
they have enough treats to last until 2020. 

holy wrapping paper! 
it snowed all afternoon.

Hope you all had a wonderful day of celebrating! Cheers to a fabulous 2013!

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Janice with Word of Mouth Designs said...

Oh, my! I had heart palpitations while reading that only because I too have been in that very situation ... with you on the search for whatever it is that you have in your head that you must positively, without-a-doubt must have! My sympathy goes to Spencer & Kristen for enduring a day-long PJ search. My thanks to Parman for trying to make it better for you. But huge kudos to Mary for making the ultimate sacrifice and joining you in your scheming to land the perfect pair of PJs. Now to fuel one other aspect of a Type A Personality that you left out of the definition ... the need for reassurance that you were right. So here goes ... "OMG! Those pajamas are absolutely adorable! I love them! They are perfect for Christmas morning, and look at how pretty you look in all the pictures." Now I will take a deep breath, and get myself another cup of coffee. Sigh.

afairlie said...

Ah...yes. You know this scenario all too well!

Saskia said...

type A personality right over here probably drives matt insane as he refers to me as that :) I call it perfection :) Your PJs were adorable and perfect! Looks like you had a fabulous xmas!!!

afairlie said...

Haha! You, Sas, could totally relate! :)

Lori Zaragoza said...

Love it!! Type A here too of course!! And yes the pjs were worth it!! Glad you had a very Merry White Christmas!!

afairlie said...

Haha thanks cuz!

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