If one more person tweets or statuses(?) about how great that “extra hour of sleep” was, I’m going to die.
Potentially from sleep-deprivation.
You see, Fall Back is a big, honkin’ joke. Guess who doesn’t give a rat’s bummy about things like The Time Actually Displayed On The Actual Clock? That’s right, children. Namely, my children.
“Ah,” they NEVER SEEM to say to themselves, “It’s still dark out. This must be the new 5 o’clock!”
Instead, they wander around blearily like drunken tourists, asking for comida and el bano and other things for which I do not care at new 5 o’clock.
Crazy, apple-mouthed children.
Yesterday’s time change was especially bad- and yeah, I kinda feel like it’s our fault. After a nutso month of birthdays and Halloweens and sugars, this past Saturday was especially event-happy. So much so that Susannah, normally the Big Ben of naptime, decided that instead she’d lay in her crib and laugh dementedly at her window shade. (For two hours.)
Unfortunately for her system, two hours later was the birthday party of a wonderful kiddo (whose wonderful parents we count as exceptionally awesome friends) and we figured she’d rally. And she did! All through cake and pizza and toys! Until she found out that her [normally beloved] sitter was coming that evening and all hell broke loose.
Namely, the hell of an irrationally crying child.
Who fell asleep in her car seat about twelve seconds into this crying jag. And when I say “fell asleep,” I mean she went from zero to Drooling Open-Mouthed With A Lolled Back Head.
This was at 5:30pm. (For those of you playing along at home, with the imminent time change that would be old 4:30pm! Which I think we can all agree is a terrible bedtime!) And she also chose that moment to have a terrifically involved diaper explosion- in her sleep. And so when I carried her up to her room at home to change and jammie her and got no reaction whatsoever, I realized that this was a textbook example of a girl who was not going to be waking anytime soon. (Unless she did. Horribly. In two hours. Requiring that we pay our sitter an extra gazillion dollars.)
Part of me wondered if we should tell our sitter to forget it, that we’d just be time-bombing our evening…but one of my best friends in the whole world had gotten tickets to see Ender’s Game (one of my all-time favorite books)…and Nora was already happily engrossed in a game with said sitter…so off to double date we went!
And had a great time.
Until 1:30am (old 2:30am)…when Zu cheerfully decided that she was up for that day. (Which, again, I think we can all agree is a terrible time to wake up.) And she woke her sister, who was not so cheerful about it, and let her feelings be known by demanding bathroom time and water and sleeping between P.J. and me in bed and maybe a book? And once Nora was settled again, Susannah decided that she wasn’t feeling so cheerful about being awake after all. So she woke Nora again. And again. And again. For an hour and a half. And then she wanted bathroom time and water and- can I sleep between you guys in bed and punch you in the cheek and the stomach and the thigh and the cat for the next hour?
P.J. and I high-fived/tag-teamed out a few more times before we decided that the best option would be to turn up the girls’ noise machine, close all the bedroom doors, and place blankets directly over our heads. I’m not sure if it settled the children, but we sure as heck fell back to sleep rather quickly!
And aside from a few emotional outbursts, faceplanted naps, and tantrummy bathroom issues (and that’s just from P.J.), everyone seemed normal and ready for a good night’s sleep.
At 5pm.
Pray for our Monday.
And for the souls of people bragging about how rested they are.
Jerks.
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