This past weekend we “celebrated” Daylight Savings time. In case you live in a part of the world where you’re exempt from this wonderful experience, it technically means we “lost” an hour Saturday night by moving our clocks forward. What it really means, however, is that our children slept blissfully late on Sunday morning, refused to go to bed at a reasonable hour on Sunday night, and have required extraordinary measures to wake them up in time for school the past two mornings.
Today, for example, went something like this:
6:40am I finished getting dressed and started calling their names in a cheerful, sing-song-y voice.
6:45am I finished putting away my makeup and flat iron in the bathroom and went to turn on some lights, still calling their names.
6:48am I got louder.
6:50am I tried turning on the Moana soundtrack. Loudly.
6:53am My 3-year-old daughter cracked open an eye. I took it as a sign of being awake and scooped her up out of her bed. She was not actually awake. She was also not pleased.
6:55am I carried her downstairs (picture a 35-pound limp noodle), where her big brother was already waiting. She grumpily looked through the patio doors and asked, “Why is it still dark?” I was grumpily thinking the exact same thing.
7:00am I put bread in the toaster and turned back around to find her lying in the middle of the kitchen floor like this:
Change, no matter how you look at it, isn’t always easy. Some days you have to embrace it. Other times you just have to grab your favorite blankie, curl up nice and snug, and resist it for a little bit longer.
I’m excited to join other writers every Tuesday (and daily during the month of March) in 2017 to participate in the Slice of Life writing challenge through Two Writing Teachers. Read all about how you can Write. Share. Give. on their website here.