Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday. . . and all is still not right with the world of Daylight Savings Time (or lack thereof, I really don't know which is which -- I just know I "fell back" and have not yet gotten up).
Try as I might, I can't convince the kiddos that yes, it is light outside but no, it is NOT time to get up yet.
My mornings used to be so lovely:
5.30 a.m. -- alarm
5.45 a.m. -- out of bed followed by a leisurely cup of coffee, breakfast of whatever I wanted, and plenty of time for my morning devotional, maybe a shower (and perhaps even unload the dishwasher or get some laundry in)
7.30 a.m. -- bring the still-groggy little ones downstairs for breakfast and Super Why
As you can imagine, my days are starting out the same way. Unfortunately, around 6.15 I am frantically trying to put the little one back to sleep (and failing) while the big boys pound on the door and shout about morning time. My coffee grows cold on the kitchen table next to a Bible study with only 1 question answered and a bowl of soggy cereal. There is certainly no shower. And getting anything else done? Ha! No way.
Let's not even discuss the crankiness that comes with trying to adjust meals and naps.
Whose brilliant idea was this whole time change business, anyway? It wasn't a mother of young children, I can tell you that much.
On the bright side, I guess I could theoretically get out & get my errands done and get home in time for Sesame Street at nine (don't judge my knowledge of morning PBS schedules).
If anything besides Wal-Mart were open before 9 a.m.