Dear Daylight Savings,
I owe you an apology. I have spent my whole life resenting your very existence. I have loathed that you not only take away an hour of my critical sleep year after year, but from the rest of the country as well. Do you want people to be sleep-deprived? Every spring I renew my vow to ignore you completely. I repent of my hateful thoughts.
This year, my son woke up at 7am my time. He was cranky before he even opened his eyes. I spent the next two hours trying to cheer him up. Didn't work. I offered food and he flung it away and yelled in disgust "nuuu." I take away the food and he whines implying "how dare you?" He cried for me to pick him up, put him down, for me to pick up the thing he dropped for the upteenth time. He crawls away from me and then points to me and cries implying "i want you. why are you so far away?" Then my husband says, "Hey, since its daylight savings time, Ethan gets to go nap an hour early." I feel the clouds in my heart begin to lift. My heart shines with hope renewed. Yes. Naptime early. I lay him down to sleep after 20 minutes of rocking. I sneak away to go to the gym. I grab my book and my cell phone. Yes, he will probably wake in 30-40 minutes and cry and wonder why I have left him in the crib (aka Gitmo). But that is his big Daddy's problem now isn't it? I'm going to exercise away my morning choice of pancakes and my book from the library.
Your Friend, Beth