You know, I read all of these posts out there bitching about the time change over the last few days, and I was all smug and “Pffft! Time change! No sweat!” but I am here to tell you now that I was in DENIAL and I am ready to repent.
Bless me, internet, for I have sinned. Everything is just WRONG and yes, YES, I ADMIT IT, I cannot handle changing the clocks by one hour. It is more than my wee, delicate little cortex can handle. And the children, forget it. They weren’t all that stable to begin with, you know. Now they are both insufferable AND sleep-deprived. Well, they were. Until I ate them. Which happened this evening right around the time that I finished chiselling the toothpaste scum off of every surface in their bathroom and Monkey spat an impressive mouthful anew on the freshly scrubbed faucet.
They were delicious, tasting predominantly of blueberry pop-tarts with just a faint hint of french fries.
So. It started when I changed all the clocks on Saturday night. We slept in (of course) on Sunday, and that was fine. Monday morning–when I shut off my alarm and arose to discover the temperature in my bedroom was an unforgiving 57 degrees–I realized I’d forgotten to adjust the clocks on the thermostats. Whoops!
Do you know how hard it is to get up for school, feeling like it’s an hour early? Do you know how much harder it is to do that when the entire house is still at arctic temperature?
Did you also know that no matter how hard it is to get up at that time, in the cold, that by bedtime, if you are, say, 6, or maybe, I dunno, almost 8, you will still believe you should stay up another hour? It’s true! And if your very mean mother has the NERVE to put you to bed, that’s no problem. You can just lie there in bed and SING! For an HOUR! Yes, that would be a good idea. Because, chances are, it won’t be so cold the next morning (once the thermostats are adjusted). So you’d better be twice as tired! Just to keep it interesting!
So, um, yesterday was… a bit challenging. Today? Well, today I had to eat the children.
But allow me to back up, for a minute.
Today, in addition to my regular work, I had a few other things to attend to. Like:
1) Trying to coordinate with a committee on a project I’m apparently committed to producing something for by, um, Thursday, even though I don’t have any of the contributing materials yet.
2) The fact that my hair has responded to the recent rain by reminding me that it’s been, what, two months since I last had a haircut, freak? And then dealing with the associated angst of calling for an appointment and trying to balance wanting to go back to my regular stylist (who had been out on maternity leave, but is now back) but not wanting to offend the substitute stylist who has been cutting my hair for months now.
3) Searching online for plane tickets for this summer, which is always entertaining because no two searches yield the same result! The tickets are always too expensive, but a different price every time. It’s like gambling, only with less risk and more crying!
4) Realizing that I have less than two weeks until Easter and MY GOD, IT’S LESS THAN TWO WEEKS UNTIL EASTER HOW DID THAT HAPPEN? I put in a call to the Easter Bunny, and he laughed in my face and told me I’m slipping.
5) Also realizing that Chickadee’s birthday is right after Easter and there is no bunny to help me with THAT.
It was sort of a busy day. Plus I am *this* close to deeming this “cold” I’m battling just plain allergies, because ENOUGH ALREADY with the impacted sinuses.
So I got as much done as I could, before it was time to get the kids. I was grateful for the break when I headed out to fetch them. And they, of course, repaid me by making it crystal clear that the time change had busted whatever tenuous grip on reality and manners they’d previously possessed.
Monkey was happy to see me… for about ten seconds. That was the time he required to show me that he’d read the requisite number of books to take another trip the prize box, and the small dinosaur he’d selected. Then his brain shorted out and he spent the next hour trying to convince me to let him watch television. It went sort of like this:
Monkey: Can I watch TV?
Monkey: Why not?
Me: Because it’s not television time right now. Find something to play with.
Monkey: I don’t have anything good.
Me: Okay, well, I guess I can give away your stuff, then–
Me: Okay then.
Monkey: But I’m bored.
Me: I’m sorry to hear that.
Monkey: Can I watch TV?
Monkey: But I really want to.
Me: I’m clear on that, thanks. But no.
Monkey: When CAN I watch TV?
Me: That depends.
Monkey: On what?
Me: On how many more times you ask me.
Monkey: But. Um. WHEN can I watch?
Me: Lalalalalalalala I can’t heeeeear you….
Meanwhile–just in case that wasn’t entertaining enough–Chickadee greeted me this afternoon in a way that made it clear that I was in for a rough ride. I offered her a snack but it was the WRONG ONE. I asked about her day but I asked about the WRONG THING. By the time we made it back to the house, she’d lost today’s allowance and was on her final warning for tomorrow’s. She kept SCREAMING at me and I was fantasizing about wrapping her head in duct tape until she could control herself. No amount of calm explanation as to how I didn’t much enjoy being subjected to her wrath seemed to make a dent in her righteous fury.
[Here I must note that I did, around the sixth time that she got up in my face and hollered at me, raise my own voice in response.]
Finally I packed them both off with dad for dinner, and heaved a sigh of relief. Not before catching my ex up on their stunning behavior, however.
When the children were returned to me, Chickadee threw her arms around my waist and clutched me, then apologized for her earlier behavior. She seemed quite contrite, and I was impressed. I thanked her for the apology and hugged her back, while kissing the top of her head. She pulled away from me, all business now. “Okay, Mama, now YOU apologize to ME.” I raised an eyebrow. “You yelled at me, too, you know,” she pointed out.
I was stuck. True, I had raised my voice. True, two wrongs don’t make a right. Still. What a little lawyer she is. I apologized, but couldn’t resist adding that while my behavior was certainly not excused by the provocation that had preceded it, it was worth NOTING that I had only lost my temper after being screamed at continuously for thirty minutes prior to my lapse. She nodded. “We both yelled,” she mused. “You were just as wrong as me.”
But I– but SHE– Mmmmppphhhgggggg. I sent her upstairs to take a shower.
Now I lay me down to sleep
I pray the Lord to RETURN MY CHILDREN TO SANITY (and maybe LIGHTEN THE WORKLOAD A BIT and P.S. some frequent flier miles and a couple of easter baskets and a party planner would be useful too, k, thanks)
And if I die before I wake
I’m guessing it would be fairly peaceful and therefore, utterly foreign (but probably inconvenient)….