|Here is a picture that accurately summarizes how I feel.|
I’m going to jump on the bandwagon, I think.
No, not tell everyone every day how thankful I am for baby Jesus and my family and the birds and the trees and coffee and children who can wipe their own behinds. (Damn, November.)
No, I’m going to bitch about Daylight Saving Time. Because I hate it with all the hate I have to give and that’s a lot, more even than I hate how much I love cake. Also more than I hate the months leading up to the presidential election. (Look at me being timely!)
You guys. With the time change yesterday Sebastian got out of bed at 4:18 a.m. A.M. Does that make anyone else’s body ache? Because it does mine, mostly because I am too glassy eyed and exhausted to be able to function properly, thus my core aches. Does that happen to anyone else? Just me because I’m uniquely special? Okay then.
I made Chris get out of bed and tell Sebastian to get back in bed because he was being ridiculous, that it was still the middle of the night. Before you tell me I’m spoiled, I’ll let you know that I was awake for about an hour sometime in the middle of the night because Adele whined for about 30 seconds and then went back to sleep but of course I didn’t. Also I breastfed two children each for a year, including all of the middle of the night feedings while he was sleeping soundly. I win every argument.
Sebastian is suddenly an early riser, like crazy early. Add that to his refusal to even attempt a nap and our evenings and days are full of whine. I look at his little red-rimmed eyes and want to forcibly tape them shut so he can sleep. Because that would help, right? Torture always makes me tired.
But actually he’s doing better than he probably should be. Even today when we went to Target because he earned some allowance and it wasn’t really enough for the toys he wanted but was enough for him to get something small and I COULD NOT CONVINCE HIM that he could always SAVE the money until next week when it would be double and he could get an even bigger toy! Delayed gratification is not something that 4 year old understands, but who can really blame him?
But he couldn’t decide and couldn’t decide and we’d been in the toy section for 30 minutes and Adele was screaming because that’s what she does any time we’re in any store at all and I set the timer on my phone for 5 minutes and told him to pick something by the time it went off or we were leaving with nothing and he could just save his money and even then he didn’t fuss or whine. We found a generic nerf gun and he was fine. Until he changed his mind when we were all the way on the other side of the store. But I let him go back and pick up the ninja lego overpriced little man provided that was all he did because we weren’t looking at anything else THANKYOUVERYMUCH.
Anyway, what was I saying?
That I’m so tired my eyes are burning and my head kind of feels like it’s going to run away from my body just so it can rest on that pillow over there that the rest of me probably won’t see for hours and hours and hours?
That sounds about right.
(4:38 this morning. When I heard him getting dressed, because that’s the first thing he does in the morning, I ran upstairs and told him to get his behind back in bed because IT’S NOT TIME TO GET UP GO TO SLEEP YOU CRAZY CHILD! I left him fake crying because he insisted he was ready to get up. No one went back to sleep but everyone stayed in bed until 6.)
(Daylight Saving Time is a cold-hearted bastard to parents of small children.)