I hate you daylight savings

Dear Daylight Savings Time,

I hate you.

It's not me, it's you. There is no way we can work this out. I'm so over you.

Sincerely,
Amy

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I abhor this clock-switching business. Last spring, I was so smug. Ha! The clocks are springing ahead! My child will be fooled and will sleep until 8 a.m. and I will sleep the sleep of queens and the princess and the pea!

Oh but no. He woke up at the same damn time, not even acknowledging the fact the clocks had switched. I felt cheated. It was such a letdown.

Of course this time around, I knew it would be even worse since we were setting the clocks back an hour.

Last night we put the Jackster to bed at 8 p.m. That's a full hour later than normal. He had also taken a much later nap because of some problem falling asleep, so we were thinking maybe we beat the system.

You know what time I heard the crib soother this morning? That would be 5-it's-way-too-freaking-early a.m. I listened to babbling and singing a short bursts of silence until 7 a.m., when I finally dragged my ass out of bed and staggered into his room.

Because I am an idiot and realized a half-hour before lunchtime today that I needed to make a Whole Foods run, his nap was an hour later than normal, but with the time change it was really two hours later and oh my holy hell, all this thinking about what time it is and what time it would have been yesterday makes my head hurt.

Also, it is making me have Braxton Hicks contractions. Well, not entirely true. It's not all the thinking, it's the lack of water I would imagine. So I shall go lie down now and drink some water and think about how great it will be in a week when everyone forgets what time it could be and instead just thinks about what time it actually is.