I'm going to need you to wear some pants.

Fall is here, the weather is taking a downhill turn, and winter is quickly approaching.  Gavin is not adjusting well at all.  He doesn't mind the cool winds, the rain, or the shorter days.  No, all of that is fine with him.  He minds the pants.  Pants, you say?  Yes, pants.

Part of this is my fault.  All summer, I let him run around in shorts.  No shirt; just shorts.  (Unless, of course, we were going out in public.)  I figured that he was spending most of the day playing outside and getting dirty, or playing in the humid house (because I didn't want to turn on the AC).  On my behalf, it meant I had less laundry to do. 

So, when the end of August rolled around, there was a little bit of a struggle getting him to wear shirts and shoes again.  I patiently explained that daycare and preschool had a rule that said you had to be fully-clothed in order to go there.  He begrudgingly put on a complete and acceptable outfit, but the second we walked in the door, he stripped of his shoes and shirt faster than our naughty puppy could devour an unguarded cupcake.  At the time, it was fine because it was still warm.  Hot even.

Only a few short weeks later, the mornings became chilly.  Chilly enough to where I had to insist that he wear pants - mostly so the daycare workers would stop giving me that disapproving, your-kid-is-the-only-one-without-a-jacket look.  In a nutshell, this wearing-of-pants did not go over well.  One morning, as he laid in his bed semi-conscious, I walked in holding a pair of jeans.  He took one look at them out of a half-opened eye and all hell broke loose.  Cue crying, screaming, and other sorts of dramatics and hysterics.  He did not want to wear those pants.  After ten minutes of listening to whining in the form of, "No pants!  Shorts and short-sleeves," I finally had to hold him down and wrestle the pants on him.  He promptly jumped out of bed, ran down the hall, took off the pants, and threw them at me.  So, this is going well.

Fifteen minutes later, with a tear-streaked face and a package of fruit snacks, we left the house, and he had pants on.  Whew.   Since I didn't hear otherwise, I'm assuming that he had no problem keeping the pants on at daycare, but the second we walked in the door, those pants came flying off.  He said, "I have to go potty," and emerged five minutes later wearing shorts and a short-sleeved shirt.  It's like he couldn't get those jeans off fast enough.

I figured that, as time went on, he'd adjust to wearing cool-weather clothing.  Alas, it's almost two months later, and he still tries to put on shorts and a t-shirt every morning.  He's a little more willing to put on pants and long-sleeves, but without fail, he races to his room to change into shorts and a t-shirt every night when we get home.  Every.  Single.  Night.  No matter how cold it is, he'll tell me he's hot, and then he'll race off to change his clothes (after which he will promptly park his butt in front of the heater to stay warm).

Mind you, even though it's dropped below freezing a few nights already, I refuse to turn on the heat.  Doesn't bother Gavin.  He wants to wear "boxers and a beater" to bed every night.  When he gets out of bed in the morning (shivering), he refuses to wear a sweatshirt or put on sweatpants because he's "not cold."  If we go outside on a cold and windy day, it takes less than five minutes for him to tell me that he's hot, and he wants to take his hoodie off.  I have to practically threaten him so he'll leave the hoodie on.

But I'm hot!

Now, I know young children (I'm talking 1 and 2 year olds) like to take their clothes off and run around naked, but this is a completely different beast.  My child has an affliction to winter clothes.  He peels them off his body like they're causing a horrible rash.  I can't wait to see what he tries to pull when the snow starts flying.