Falling back...

I must confess, I like the benefits of daylight savings.  I like to wake up when the sun is out.  When it’s still dark at 7 am, my body protests the very IDEA that it must depart the cozy bed, face Offspring’s Morning Meltdowns, whip up Trash-Free, Organic, Tasty, Creative Lunches, try not to throw evil dart eyes at Husband as he sits at the edge of the counter READING THE PAPER WHILE THE WORLD IS APPARENTLY ENDING IN THE PLAYROOM, repeat myself maayybeee 700 times and eventually make it out the door, with Children, lunches, snacks, backpacks, shoes on, hair possibly brushed, teeth hopefully brushed and oh crap I forgot to put sunscreen on you again.  

So, the sun being out by 6 am...it puts a little pep in my step.  It makes me happy.  And the evenings falling darker earlier...I don’t really mind that, either.  It makes me feel cozy.  It’s really the only thing that is the equivalent to snow at Christmas around here.  I’m just a girl from Iowa, and although it’s been many years since I’ve lived there, the rhythm of the seasons changing have never quite left my body clock.  The dark park at 5 pm reminds me that Fall is here and it’s comforting.  

When I was young, oh so young, and child free, Fall Back simply meant an extra hour of sleep and that was pretty great.  But now that I’m a parent, the day of Fall Back is simply known as The Longest Day of the Year.  Where I was once a care-free ladida extra hour of sleep person, I am now a parent, looking at my watch in disbelief, unable to comprehend that IT’S NOT EVEN 8 AM YET?  How is that even possible?  How did this one hour of ‘extra sleep’ (HHAHAHAHA!  That’s hilarious!!) somehow add at least 6 hours to my morning?  Why can’t The Offspring obey the natural laws of Fall Back?  Why must they wake up and demand pancakes at 5:25 am?  And here we are, a week later, and Fall Back is still kiinnddd of kicking my ass.  6 am is still the new 7 am and each afternoon as I think it must be time to start winding this day down...I should probably make dinner...let me see...what time is it?  3:30?  3 F*@^*@G 30??  Am I being punked?  Where’s Ashton Kutcher?  

Come springtime though, I’ll get my revenge.  Where, as a young, care free, ladida child- free person, spring forward meant an hour less sleep; but as a parent, we laugh in the face of sleep and, I’m sorry, we’re going to spring this day FORWARD?  Why, YES!  Please DO!  Not only does bedtime come an hour earlier, but so does cocktail hour.  

Win.  Win.