by Michelle Stein posted in Parenting

Twice a year, we set our clocks either forward or backward one hour. And twice a year, adults complain about how tired they are. Or how badly their schedules are messed up. Or how dark and depressing it is on their morning drive to work.
But honestly, this Daylight Saving Time business is a piece of cake --  that is, until you have kids.
Pre-kid me was endlessly annoyed by the time-change whiners. It happens every six months, folks. You knew it was coming and there's nothing you can do to change it. It's not even that bad. Suck it up, buttercup.
And then I procreated.
Now, my whole perspective on the matter has changed. Drastically. That's probably because we live and breathe by a schedule in this home. Nap time is sacred. Bedtime is down to a science. You don't mess with the schedule. The schedule works. The schedule keeps everyone sane. Blast anyone who DARES throw off the schedule. Cue: In waltzes in that pompous jerk, Daylight Saving Time. This is what nap time looked like for my 11-month-old on Tuesday.
The good news: She eventually settled down and fell asleep. The bad news: She got a whopping 20-minute nap before we had to pick up her brother for school. That was a fun evening for sure.
Ugh. Good thing she's cute.
At least we've managed to survive the first week, which is the worst of it. It's like ripping off a bandage. My baby flat-out skips her afternoon nap and is cranky for the rest of the day. Then, she falls aslee...