It’s not so much that my idea of a good time these days is a couple of hours alone with my DVR, a glass of red wine and sound asleep by 9, or that I’m happiest when I can walk across my living room without slipping on a board book.
No, I know life has changed since having children mostly when it comes time for Daylight Savings to end and I feel like crying when everyone starts talking about gaining an hour of sleep as the clocks fall back.
I have a 4-year-old and a 1-year-old. I guarantee you that, come Sunday morning, instead of rising at their usual 7:05 a.m. and 5:35 a.m. respectively, they will be up faithfully at 6:05 a.m. and 4:35 a.m. Which means I will be weeping at both of those times. Ditto for next Monday and every day thereafter.
Apparently small children never, ever get the memo that they’re supposed to sleep an extra hour. Gaining an extra hour of sleep for us goes away when we have kids. We lose an hour of sleep in the fall. We lose another hour of sleep when the clocks spring forward. It’s lose-lose-lose for parents every time there’s change. Everywhere. Anywhere. Every. Single. Time.
It’s as if our children rise even earlier to remind us just how fortunate we are to be able to have an extra hour with them.
And while I adore my children, the last thing I ever want is an extra hour with them. At least before the sun rises. It’s just cruel, although not so unusual. After all, it happens every year at the same time. Just like clockwork.
While I wouldn’t trade anything for experiencing my children growing up, I’d still give quite a few things to get that extra hour of sleep back every year, twice a year.
Photo credit: Meredith Carroll
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