|Oh, Daylight Savings Time - Why Do You Hate Me So?!|
A decade before I was born several historic events occurred.
The first artificial heart operation was performed.
Walt Disney died.
The U.S. Supreme Court ruled that Miranda rights must be read at every arrest.
David Bowie released his first record.
But why, you may ask, would I be mentioning 1966? Because, my friends, in 1966 something become official that has significant effects on my life right… Now…
Daylight Savings Time.
Benjamin Franklin's little brain child (not quite so useful as electricity) was formalized in the U.S. in 1966 and lives on today to make life difficult for all non-farmers and parents across the country.
Growing up in Arizona and going to graduate school in Indiana, places that don't recognize Daylight Savings Time (although Indiana has since caved to peer pressure. Suckers!), I did not have to mess with clocks every fall and spring until I was a quarter of a century old.
It's hard to teach an old dog new tricks.
It's also hard to help your kids know that in the fall we get a whole extra hour to do what Mama and Papa love best these days… Sleep!
My 3-year-old doesn't get it. She's been waking up an hour early. And when she discovers that no one else is awake she has no problem waking us up, one by one, so that she has company in the pitch black of the pre-dawn world.
It makes me want to cry, beat my chest, and gnash my teeth.
I remind myself that I love my child. And that I was a morning person before I had children. And that I can catch up on sleep when they go to college.
But I still want to cry, beat my chest, and gnash my teeth.
I mentioned to one of my students after teaching class this morning, that I was very exhausted because the kiddo was up way too early.
This gal literally stopped walking and, in all sincerity and with wide eyes, said, "Wow! I didn't realize that you still don't get much sleep after your kids are babies. I thought it was only when they were just born that you don't sleep all night."
This statement made me want to wrap my hands around her neck and squeeze. Mostly because I'm jealous of her. I restrained myself and giggled a little at the thought of what other surprises lie in store for her when she has little kiddos of her own.