To sit on my couch tonight, I had to move two remote controls, four board books, a toast fossil, two Dum Dum lollipop wrappers, a half-eaten banana, and an empty lunch bag. And that was just to find enough room for my butt. I won’t disclose the list of other crap on my couch; that would be embarrassing.
None of that has anything to do with the rest of this post, but I was so encouraged by hearing from a friend about her carpet this morning that I felt compelled to share. My friend’s dog peed on her carpet, her son vomited on the carpet, and then she tripped on the dog and bled on her carpet. She’s taken so many sick days from work that she made her husband take a sick day to stay home with the vomitter and left him (her husband, not the child) with the number for the carpet cleaner.
I don’t know why stories like that lift my soul, but they do. Sharing time is a happy time, so I’m spreading the love.
In other news, I hate springing forward.
Every time we enter Daylight Saving Time, I do research on whether this nonsense is really necessary.
Just so you know, it’s not. I think it’s a special way to torture parents of young children with the knowledge that they’re losing an hour of sleep.
I try to console myself with the idea that we’ll fall out of Daylight Saving Time eventually, and we’ll get the hour back. Sadly, when you’re parents of very, very young children, even falling back is cruel. Instead of gaining an hour of sleep as granted by our altruistic government, young kiddos stick to their regular sleep routine. Explaining the “fall back” concept to a four-year-old does nothing to gain you more sleep. Nothing, I tell you.
I was late getting ready this morning.
I’m late most mornings, but this morning, I get to blame it on Daylight Saving Time. OK, chalk one up for Daylight Saving Time. I like excuses.
Just so you know, it takes exactly 4 minutes to drive from my house to Aden’s school, including stopping at the light between here and there. A leisurely drive to school happens on mornings when I have 6 minutes.
This morning, I had 8 minutes. Which would’ve been great (that’s 100% more time than I need, folks!), except that I drop my twins off at our neighbors’ house first. The twin drop-off usually takes 5 minutes. That would’ve left me with 3 minutes to get Aden to school.
I tried to shorten kiss and hug time with Cai and Cael. Instead of kissing them at our neighbors’ front door, I kissed them getting out of the car. That there’s a time-saver!
Unfortunately, my change in routine and kiss brevity weren’t appreciated. I had to do remedial make-up kissing and hugging sessions lest I hurt preschool feelings. And, fine, also because my niece is sick so I’m a kissing push-over these days. You want 25 kisses? You got ’em, Kid!
Then there’s Cai, my long kisser. And by long kisser, I mean llllooooooonnnnnggggg kisser. That kid puts his baby wips on my mine and won’t let up. I love it very much, and I know it’s not gonna happen when he’s 14, so I live it up now.
Sometimes I wonder whether my kids know I’m a push-over or if I just feel like that a lot of the time.
Then I get texts like this from my neighbor right as I’m pulling out of the driveway: Cael just said, “Haha. She kissed and hugged us FOUR times!”
In the end, I was 1 minute late dropping Aden off.
So much for Kiss Saving Time. Talk about a total and utter failure.
Who needs it?
There’s not a bloomin’ thing I can do to change Daylight Saving Time.
But, as the governing body for Kiss Saving Time, that’s right out.