Falling back is amongst my least favorite things in the world.
We aren’t a family that sleeps in on weekends(or any other day). Oh no, we’re up and at ’em at o’dark thirty seven days a week. I’ve tried adjusting bed times, I’ve tried melatonin. I’ve used essential oils in every possible calming combination. I’ve even tried nightly sleep dances and earnest prayer. All to no avail.
I put them to bed 15 minutes later, they awaken at the same time. I put them to bed an hour later, they awaken at the same time. I do it for a week, no change. I do it for months, no change.
My kids bodies don’t seem capable of adjusting to time changes. At all. In fact, I would consider them constitutionally incapable of external adjustment of their internal clocks. (Thus, we will never travel internationally with our kids. Ever!)
For us, falling back means that we will all be getting up an hour earlier until March 12, 2017.
The dread is palpable.
These ridiculous time change laws of this great land of ours sentence me to 4 months of torture. I have no recourse.
I’m drinking an extra XL cup of coffee this morning with tears of grief over my lost hour of sleep. And will be mumbling under my breath about it for days. If you hear me, it might be best not to question what my muttering are. I might just start bawling.