I'm Tired

You know where this time change can go?

You do, but I'll tell you anyway.  Straight to hell, that's where it can go.

Sleep is kinda my thing.  My bed is my favorite place.  And mornings are my least favorite.  Anything that messes with my sleep is my mortal enemy.  Unfortunately, this can sometimes include my children now that they are no longer infants who actually need me.

One night Margot woke up crying in the middle of the night.  I ran to her aid to see what she needed.  She was crying because she couldn't find her toy cupcakes.  That were sitting right on her bed.  I didn't handle it well.  That was the last night she had a monitor in her room, and the night that J decided it was best for the welfare of the kids that he take over nighttime needs.

I feel a little bad, but only a little.  Don't mess with my sleep for stupid reasons.

And that brings me back to this stupid time change.  It's messing with my sleep for a stupid reason.  (What IS the reason, anyway??)

To make matters worse, J is on a business trip this week.  He left well before the sun came up on Monday morning, leaving me to deal with the first morning aftermath of Daylight Savings Time.

I forget how bone tired I feel on that first morning.  And not just me, but the kids.  We miss that hour that was stolen.  We NEED that hour that was stolen.

I realize I have it pretty good.  I usually wake up around 7:30, but I need a little bit of time to fully wake up before I am ready to get out of bed.  Who am I kidding- I need a little bit of time before I can speak, or even look at another human being.  J has learned not to even attempt eye contact until I've had at least 10 minutes to come to grips with the fact that I'm awake.

I'm just not nice in the mornings.

Because I'm such a scary bitch in the mornings, he usually lets me take my time getting out of bed, and he runs upstairs to make sure everyone is awake and getting dressed.  The girls are almost always good about getting up on time with their alarms, but sometimes they get sidetracked and he'll find them playing upstairs.  Gabe, on the other hand, sleeps through his alarm about half of the time.  If we don't hear three children downstairs by 7:45, we know that parental intervention is required, and J has assumed this duty.

With him gone this week, I've had to take over.  I was already less than excited about that before I realized that his trip coincided with the time change.  And now that it's happening, I'm even less excited.  Not only am I not awake on time (I had to set an alarm this morning, which may be my very least favorite thing ever), but I end up finding three sleeping children when I make it upstairs.  Today, I went to wake Gabe up, went downstairs to carry on with the morning routine, and then when he hadn't come downstairs 15 minutes later, I found that he'd gone BACK TO SLEEP after I left.

ARGH!

Can someone please direct me to the person who is responsible for carrying on this ridiculous, antiquated change of the clocks?  WHO LIKES THIS?  Because I'm pretty sure the answer is NO ONE.  NO ONE likes this.

My new political view is this: the politician who does away with the stupid changing of the clocks twice a year gets my vote.  Pick a time.  Stay there forever.  Easy peasy.

Rant over.  Sorry for my anger.  I'm tired.

Mommin' Ain't Easy

Dentist appointments for two out of three children, first thing in the morning, requiring us to leave the house 30 minutes earlier than our normal time (which is already a photo finish.  EVERY. TIME.)- check.

A trip to Wal-Mart (God help me) for a few random items, on a serious time crunch with children who have ZERO sense of urgency, a toddler who is hangry, a preschooler who will not stop asking me to fix her yoyo (the $0.25 prize for mediocre behavior at the dentist, which has already broken), but is then distracted by violently swinging in a patio swing while waiting in the checkout line in the Lawn & Garden section (you know, the "quick" Wal-Mart checkout lane)- check.

Dance class observation week, in which Margot danced while Charlotte hung from the barre, stood on a crate waving a pair of scissors, spilled her snack all over the dance floor while running away from me (as I was after the scissors), and did quite a bit of yelling- check.

Parent-Teacher Conferences, where three young children were expected to sit quietly while only the adults spoke (hahahahahahaha!)- check.

All before lunch.

After lunch:
Gabe quietly building a Lego masterpiece, Margot digging in the sandbox, Charlotte napping, me snacking while watching Gilmore Girls reruns in bed- check.

Hey, I considered day drinking.  This was probably the better choice.

How Do Babies Do These Things?

He's been sitting like this for the past twenty minutes.  Aside from the occasional head bob, there has been absolutely no movement.

He's either:
a.) been hypnotized
b.) seen the reflection of a basilisk through his plastic Captain Anderson clock and been petrified
or hopefully
c.) asleep sitting up.

Alas, a slow sideways tip, and...

Whew.  That was a close one.

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.

Tired, Revisited

Awhile back, J and I were watching (okay, well, I was watching- J was unfortunate enough to be in the room) a rerun of Beverly Hills, 90210.  (LOVE my Niner!)  The silly girls were trying to decide whether or not this fraternity boy was a good enough guy for Donna Martin to date.  So Kelly told Donna to ask him which book would best describe him, as this is apparently quite telling.

I'm sure it will tell you whether or not the boy is literate- beyond that, I'm not sure you'd get much out of this question.

In any case, I decided that The Princess and the Pea would best describe me.  (Beside the fact that I am a little high maintenance, I hadn't been sleeping much, remember?)

On a side note, J said that Braveheart best described him.  I laughed.

Well, friends, I am happy to report that I have changed my answer.  Sleeping Beauty is now a better descriptor.

We bought a new bed.

I have officially entered the realm of the grown-up-appropriate firm mattress.  And in true Princess style, of course the most expensive mattress in the store was the one I fell in love with.  Such is life.

With a new bed came new bedding, as we upgraded to a size king.  (Squee!)

Here she is: the newest addition to the master bedroom, and the source of my restful slumber.

Please excuse the blue curtains, that obviously no longer match,

Accent pillow from last bed- I think it still works!

I love these birds that are perched throughout the duvet.

I am now in need of some art to hang above the bed and some curtains that match, but they will have to wait a little while.  My pockets, they are empty.  But I do believe this purchase was SO worth it.

I am no longer tired.  :) 

Tired **

**FYI, I had this post beautifully written in my mind as I was laying awake around 4:00 this morning.  I remember thinking to myself, "What great word choice that is!  Oh, that's a funny transition!  Don't forget to include this!"  I don't remember a word of what I had thought out then.  Too bad.

Yep, I'm tired.  And it's not because I have a baby, which would be the logical excuse.  It's because I am old, with creaky joints and an unsupportive mattress! 

Could I possibly sound more like an crotchety old lady, really?

We're currently sleeping on the firmest mattress in the house (because Plush is technically more firm than Pillow Top, no?), and have even purchased a memory foam mattress topper (just like NASA uses!!) to cradle my achy self into a supported, restful slumber.

It ain't workin'.

My tossing and turning is keeping J awake, and he sleeps through everything!  I'm even disturbing the dog.

Mama thinks it's time for a new bed. 

And unfortunately, that is all.  I'm pretty sure I had other things to say when I originally thought this out.  A humorous anecdote, even.  But as I sit here typing now, I've got nothin'.  Maybe if I get a new bed, I'll rest easier, and I'll have something better to contribute?

Until then...tired.