Daylight Crazy Time

Last fall, the time change and our resulting early mornings led me to pen a petition with many suggested changes to make parents' lives easier.  One thing I conveniently left off, however, was Daylight Saving Time itself, and for one good reason.

The extra hour of sleep gained in the fall is worth nothing when compared to the subsequent two weeks of "Mommy, I want breakfast!  Why aren't you getting up?" at 5:30am.  In fact, I'd argue that I end up losing about six hours in the exchange.  But in the Spring, as we suffer through one shorter night, I get the payoff of several sleepy mornings, and boys that think 6am looks like nighttime, thus not waking me out of a dead sleep for bowls of gloppy oatmeal.

As usual, however, there are unexpected complications.  When I woke up to my alarm this morning and saw that the downstairs was still dark, I sneaked down to wake them up with kisses, only to be met with blank stares and repeated utterances of, "Stop it, Mom, it's still nighttime."

Who would have thought it would take Daylight Saving Time for me to lose all credibility with my kids?

When I finally had them dressed, sluggishly, and upstairs for breakfast, they stared at me like I had grown a second head when I turned on the lights in the kitchen, so I tried my best to explain what was going on.  It only made things worse.

"Guys, twice a year we change the clocks an hour so that the farmers can get the most out of the hours of daylight.  In the fall, we set the clocks back, and in the spring we move them forward.  Right now it is an hour later than your body feels like it should be."

Go home, Mom, you're drunk.

"So you're telling me that you changed... time?"

I think I could have told them that the moon had turned purple or that I was pregnant with a wombat, and the information would have seemed more believable.  From that point until Cael boarded the bus this morning, I could literally see him processing every word that left my mouth to determine  if I had finally lost it. 

"Are you sure I have school today?"

"Do you really know what day it is?"

"Can you remember my name?"

Of course I don't want them to think that I'm a complete fool, but if it buys me a week of quiet mornings, I think I can manage. 

Just in case, I'll wait a couple of years before I try to explain Leap Year.