Oh, What a Night ... Sing it With Me!

>> Friday, March 19, 2010

I used to always hate the time change that comes with Springtime. I'd wake up on a Sunday morning, lounging in bed, looking at the sunlight stream in, feeling like it was ... I don't know ... 8 AM or something -- only to find out it was really 9 AM and I was already late. No amount of preparation could fully take the edge off the disappointment.

For the past two years, though, I was learning to face this day with a little bit more optimism. You see, having a child under age 3 gives one a very different perspective of mornings than living childless, or than having older children. My goal is not to get my Toddler up early, cheerful, and on time (usually). No ... my goal is to figure out how to get him to stay in bed later without resorting to rope.

And with that little problem, I think this Daylight Savings Time might help me. This was my plan: If I we did nothing different, then Toddler would wake up at exactly the same time on Sunday morning, only the clock would say an hour later. Then, come Monday morning, he would actually sleep in because I wouldn't reset his body clock.

You aren't going to believe this, but our plan actually worked ... at least so far. I imagine all this good news goes out the window (literally) as soon as the sun starts rising earlier, or maybe even as soon as it stops raining (whenever that might be).

With Toddler waking up later (at first only pretend later on Sunday, then actually later on Monday), we have officially made this time change weekend the most unique one ever seen in this household. In fact, it was unique from beginning to end.

The first change was that Darling Husband had almost all the clocks set ahead before we even went to bed on Saturday night. We actually made it to bed at a decent hour, too, which is something just short of a miracle on the weekends.

Not all the differences were good ones, though. For example, Darling Husband had redone some of the plugs in our bedroom so we would be less likely to start an electrical fire under our bed (important, you know). Unfortunately, this led to a small short in the IPOD speaker clock that would have involved moving the mattress to fix. Rather than move the mattress in the middle of the night, we watched the blue aura from the IPOD light up the room, then plunge us into a darkness no modern bedroom knows this side of a power outage, then light up again, then go dark, then ... you know.

A few hours later, we heard the distinct hacking that comes from a cat with a hairball. With the patient ears of long practice, we recognized the sound was coming from Houdini, who happened to be sleeping on Darling Husband's legs. Here is how the scene played out.

ME: Is that Houdini about to throw up?
DH: I think so.
ME: Where is he? In the hall?
DH: No, he's here ... on the bed.
ME: Oh. I guess we should get ready to clean it up.
DH: Right. [Gets out of bed and puts hacking cat on the floor.]
ME: Did you just put the cat on the floor?
DH: Yes.
ME: Don't you think it would be easier to clean up if he just puked in the comforter? The we can throw it in the wash tomorrow. If he pukes on the floor, we'll have to actually scrub it tonight, and it is the middle of the night.
DH: Good point. [Gets out of bed and returns hacking cat to the bed.] I was just thinking I didn't really want him yacking on my leg.
ME: I can understand that, but it wouldn't really BE your leg. It would be the comforter.
DH: You are right [I love that part.]

After all that, the cat never even puked. Can you believe it? I don't think I want to know what ended up happening with that hairball, though.

Alas, we were not done with the nighttime drama. Even later that night, Toddler woke up with a stuffy nose and probably a bit of a nightmare. I pulled my beleagured self out of bed, walked over to his room, and gave him a hug. I was all prepared to do my mommy best to make everything okay. Usually, he starts with, "Me need a hug."

This night, instead, he said ... "I want Daddy."

I want Daddy.

I got out of my warm and inviting bed to comfort my ailing son, because that is what a good mom does, and what does he say? I want Daddy.

I walked back to our bedroom and crawled back into bed. On the one hand, I was rejected by my only offspring. On the other hand ... I got to go back to bed. I think those things about balance themselves out in the middle of the night. When the next words Toddler said to "Daddy" was, "Me need go potty," I knew in my heart my child really loved me best.

Finally, one more difference I have noted this year for Daylight Savings Time that I don't recall from other years is that the sunlight never did stream in to the window, no matter how late it got. Ever since we pushed the clocks ahead, it has been raining.

Oh. Wait. That isn't new. It's been raining (or snowing) pretty much since this blog started in May of 2009.

Never mind.


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