Where is that hour, exactly?Posted: November 2, 2014
Wow, this blogging every day thing is difficult. Not as difficult as spending 114 days visiting your kid in the NICU, but still.
Something all parents know is that going off of daylight savings time sucks, because your kids just don’t give a shit. They’ll wake up extra early just to spite you. They’ll get whiny and cranky as the day wears on, then still refuse to go to bed even though seven is the new eight.
Some college friends and I had a brief Facebook comment chat about this subject last night. I lamented that what we once referred to as “the rage hour” had tragically been converted into the hour I am filled with rage because my children are awake. Now, after a mug of hot cider and rum in front a delightful fire that Herr Husband built (because oh yeah, it snowed here today), I am about to fall asleep while blogging. Das Big Boy, however, is playing elevator operator in his room, and has also unspooled an entire roll of easel paper and flung it about in some sort of giant TPing experiment in which he is both perp and victim. Except I’m the victim because we know who’s going to have to furl that crap.
So that’s all I really have to post. My outfit isn’t noteworthy because I didn’t leave the house today, which hasn’t happened in months and was quite pleasant (thanks, HH!). I do have one noteworthy photo of DBB from a birthday party he attended with his father. The photo is significant because he LOVED doing the zipline and because last year when he attempted it at a party at the same venue, he lacked the strength to hang onto the bar and enjoy the ride. Always fun to see the many little ways in which they’re growing up. Even if those ways don’t include relishing the extra hour of sleep daylight savings could afford them. Sigh.