I always dread springing forward, but falling back used to be like an annual gift of more time with my beloved bed. And then I had kids. They don’t know that Bejamin Franklin decided to play with the clocks to give us more daylight in the summer. It makes no difference to them that two days ago it was pitch black at 6am and today it was sunny and bright. Mr. Man wants his morning feeding at 6:18 on the nose, even if that is now 5:18. They both want to be sitting at the table, ready for breakfast at 7:00 instead of their typical 8:00.
And naptime is fun. Mr. Man takes his morning nap at nine, so of course, he is now tired and angry at eight. So while I try to hold off the nap to get him on schedule, he pulls on my pant legs and yells at me. No he doesn’t cry, he lets out a loud, gravelly scream that blocks out all other sound. Today I caved at 8:40. My ears were about to start bleeding.
All I wanted was an extra hour of sleep. Me, my blankets and my abundance of pillows left over from pregnancy that I am now hooked on, and that my husband picks on me for. But no, the pesky little humans had other plans.
So here’s to early wake ups, confused kiddos and cranky bedtimes. Thanks a lot Ben.