When I discovered last night that it was time, yet again, to change the clocks, I worked it out in my head. “Ok, it’s Fall. So we have to turn them . . . back? Yeah, I think it’s back. So that means what was once 2:00am is now 1:00am. Oh! This is the good one! This is the one where we gain an hour. Awesome.” And so I started thinking about how this would affect our day, what would happen to the baby’s nap time, how would bedtime change, etc., not realizing that my rejoicing was a leftover remnant of my schooling/working/pre-children days.

When I pictured the next morning I realized something truly awful: The kids don’t give a crap that the time has changed. It’s not like we’re waking up to beeping alarm clocks in my house. No, we have a built-in system that wakes us by poking, whining, sitting on, kicking, and insisting that, “It’s mooooooorniiiiiing!” It matters not what time the clock says. All that matters is whether a weird noise outside occurs at just the time when one of the children is shifting around in light sleep. Then it’s over.

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