Hi, I tried to post this on Sunday, but I think blogger hates me, or in another scenario it is just as tired of everyone else of me whining about my useless husband. At any rate this was the start of my Sunday...
I hate Daylight Savings Time.
I hate going to bed and waking up and not knowing what time it is. I hate making sure you reset all the clocks and trying to figure out what time it is. I hate getting used to what time it is and them having to readjust my kid's internal time clocks accordingly. I just fucking hate it.
So this morning when Abby woke up it was 6:11 am in daylight savings time, but 7:11 am in her world (this borders on late for her, kind of). I went and got her and let her hop into bed with us as I always do. Usually there is a 7am rule, but I didn't feel like explaining it to her. So we all pile in bed, I nurse the baby, and we watch a little 64 Zoo Lane.
I usually get bounced out of bed by this scenario first, but I was determined to sleep in this morning. Usually whoever gets fed up with the family bed first loses the sleeping in time, but I was determined this morning. Alas, Tim rolled over and said something about it being too early for all this and that he could not be awake before 7am (he was unaware that I had changed the clock last night so in truth it was about a quarter to 8 on his internal clock). This set me over the edge and I gave up the half hour I sometimes get of sleep in time and took the girls downstairs.
As I was leaving our room and closing the door in a huff, Tim told me to "make sure" that he "doesn't sleep through the Bears' kickoff."
I want to kill him for so many reasons this week. This is just the most current.
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