Time Change Blues

Walk with me down misery lane, won't you?

I hate the time change.  It's true.  While most people are rejoicing at the prospect of longer hours of daylight, I am whining about the darkness that greets me when I awaken.

It has been clearly established here that I am not a morning person.  A lack of sunshine in the mornings makes this worse.  Add in the fact that it's MONDAY- boo- and my first day back at work after an extended absence, and the morning is super craptastic.

I had to wake the nugget up, which is near the top of my list of reasons why being a working mother sucks.  AND it breaks rule number one in our house, which, in case you forgot, is NEVER WAKE A SLEEPING BABY.  I forgot to take my antibiotic, and forgot to give Gabe his Claritin.  I lingered too long at drop off (you know, since I didn't actually get to see the boy before work, him being asleep and all).  Lingering is never a good thing for me.  AND, I discovered that my countdown of days until the end of the school year was off, and I had to add a day. 

But to look on the bright side- trying to take care of a one-year-old while both parents are sick is a real treat.  You should try it sometime- NOT.  Work today will most certainly be easier than that.  And I'll have the afternoon at home with my boy, which we will be able to enjoy outside in the 70 + degree weather.

Okay, Monday whining over.  Much happier posts to follow this week, folks, I swear. 

Clock Woes

I used to be a big fan of the end of Daylight Savings Time.  The whole "fall back" and get an extra hour of sleep phenomenon was amazing.  An extra hour of sleep?  Who doesn't want that?

Then I got dogs.  Then I had a baby.  The extra hour of sleep no longer exists.

Believe it or not, the dogs are much worse than the baby.  Since we set the clocks back on Saturday bedtime, Delilah cannot get it together.  For some reason, she has been waking up, shaking her collar, and pacing the room starting around 4:30am.  I'm not sure how this worked out, because we never got up at 5:30 before the time change.  6:30 was the earliest we'd rise. 

I have been waking insanely early, too (no thanks to the hound).  And today, even Gabe joined in on the fun and woke at 5:50.  Ugh.

I cannot wait until we are all well adjusted to the new time.  I DO, however, enjoy the sunlight in the mornings.  I have a hard enough time getting out of bed each day- add darkness to this equation, and it's nearly impossible for me to get going.

And as if the clock and I weren't already fighting- apparently the battery in my classroom clock is in need of replacement.  I kept checking the clock during a lesson, surprised that I had so much time left.  It certainly seemed like time was dragging!  I then realized that it had been 9:38 for a good ten minutes, and that my time with that group had long since run out.

Stupid clocks.

Symphony

I believe I have mentioned several times that I am not a morning person.

(Read about it here, here, or here...)

The sound of an alarm clock literally stresses me out.  Even when I hear it on TV or the radio, my body has a physical, clenchy reaction.  I HATE it.

Luckily I married J, who IS a morning person, and who will wake up before 7am each and every day, without the help of an alarm clock.

Pre-baby, he would bring me a cup of coffee and gently rub my back to awaken me.  This was MUCH nicer than an alarm clock.  If it weren't for its clock function, I would have thrown that bitch right out the window, as the alarm was no longer necessary.

Lately, however, I have almost wished for the alarm back.

This morning, I was awakened by a veritable symphony of sounds.

My first awakening was by the nugget.  He woke up at 5am, cried for about a tenth of a second, then was still again.  I went back to sleep.

Then at 6am, I heard the neighbor.  The crazy neighbor.  (To specify, crazy neighbor to the left.  I also have a crazy neighbor to the right.)  I LOVE sleeping with the windows open.  I love the crisp fall air.  I do NOT love hearing crazy neighbor calling for his cat, over and over again, every 15 minutes, all morning long.  "SAMANTHA!  SAMANTHA!  SAMANTHA!"  Every once in a while he'll switch it up.  "SAMANTHA!  SAMMY!  SAMANTHA!  SAMMY!"  Who names their cat Samantha, anyway?

The next sound I heard was the nugget, again.  We are fortunate that he wakes up happy, and does not immediately cry to be removed from his crib.  I think he rather likes a little bit of crib playtime before greeting the day.  He recently figured out how to put his own pacifier back into his mouth.  So we now have several of them in his crib, so should he wake up at night trying to find one, they will always be close at hand, and we will not have to get up.  The downside to this is that his new favorite crib game is picking up one (or several) pacifiers and banging them against the slats of the crib.  BANG!  BANG!  BANG!

Next, Delilah, who sleeps in our room, gets restless.  She hears the activity from the neighbor and the baby and knows that it must be time to get up.  So she stands up and shake, shake, shakes her head.  Flapping ears and jangling collar.  Again and again.

Then Daphne, who sleeps downstairs in her crate (not because I'm mean, but because she prefers it), hears the upstairs commotion and whines to be released.

The window is still open.  Crows are crowing (seriously, a lot of crows, doing a lot of crowing), the nearby train whistles on its way past, the crazy neighbor is still calling for his stupid cat.  The banging in the nursery continues.  The dogs are both as restless as can be.

Ah, morning.

My first words this particular morning?

"I hate everything."

Like I said, I'm not a morning person.