Wednesday, November 4, 2009

An Open Letter to Daylight Savings Time

Dear DST,
I am completely over you. During previous times, you won my heart by offering me an extra hour of light in the morning or evening, by making it feel like I was "sleeping in" when I woke up at 5:30 and realized I had another hour, even when it started to get dark earlier here in toasty Texas and I felt a little more at home. (Remember, I grew up in the Nordic tundra, where it gets dark at 4:00 during the winter.) Now, DST, I know differently.

You have played a cruel joke on my family and me. You have made the hour before bedtime a stressful, whiny mess, and you have stolen away my 6:30 wake-up time and replaced it with screaming and crying coming from the nursery at 4:45. Yes, perhaps we can blame teething for some of this, but until I am sure, I will be blaming you. Just so you know, I had FINALLY gotten Lydia to sleep until 6:45, and then you came along. Thanks.

For now, I will channel all of my exhausted, sleep-deprived rage at you, even if some of it is caused by other things, such as stress and frustration at school and a dog who has decided that he is going to trot around our bedroom at 4 in the morning while shaking his tags and thumping the ground while he scratches his back. I will still blame you, DST, until you replace the demon child that replaces Lydia at 6:00 PM and sneaks out at 6:00 AM after I feed her and she goes back to sleep. I will blame you.

Bite me,

1 comment:

  1. I started writing this exact blog post yesterday evening (with the only difference being that Oliver has never slept straight through to 6:45 and always wakes up around 3:30 or 4). Daylight Savings Time is a cruel, cruel joke.