Daylight Savings Time Hates Parents

I know people are tired of hearing about daylight savings time, but y’all, this time change has screwed with me in a way I cannot remember any time change ever screwing with me before.

It used to be that falling back in the fall meant an extra hour before last call. We’d be out downtown and we’d send someone to the bar for the last round of drinks and then we’d drink them and the bar wouldn’t actually closes and we’d be all “HOORAY! DAYLIGHT SAVINGS TIME!” And go buy another round.

That was awesome.

Now?

It does not mean that now. Not even kind of.

Now it means being awakened before the sun by the children whose internal clocks are deeply regulated to…not the sun. Now it means going to bed at the “normal” time, which is actually an hour later than the normal time, to wake up at a time that is technically the normal time but which is actually an hour earlier.

Follow?

If I go to bed at 10:30, it’s the old 11:30, which is an hour late. And Joshua and Emma wake up at 5:45, which is the old 6:45 but not really because it’s the new 5:45. And there’s something about seeing that 5 in there and knowing that you’re up before 6:00 AND THE SUN that just says “TOO FREAKING EARLY!”

This morning I actually shoved my head back under the covers and told Dan I was throwing a fit because this is the third day in a row that I’ve been up before 6:00 and the third day in a row that I’ve gotten absolutely zero nap time (for myself) and my baby is awake three times a night.

I’m the definition of exhausted. My face is there in the dictionary next to the word.

So yeah. Daylight savings time can suck an egg.

And yet here I sit.

At least there’s coffee.