And time won't give me time, won't give me time (time, time, time)

It may come as no surprise that I take the time change extremely personally.

(And I bet you knew this post was going to be about the damn time change.)

I do. I take it personally, in the same way I take cold weather personally. It's been visited upon me and it is terrible.

Normally I stagger around all week asking, “REALtime or NEWtime?” Until Nick has enough and bellows, “IT’S ALL REALTIME!!!”

But this year before I could even really get going, my daughter took up the helm on this one.

And now I am in the position of having to explain that newtime is actually just the time, and we have to accept it.

When really I'm sitting there trying to do math in my head and thinking about the unfairness of jerking us back and forth with the clocks twice a year.

We are all exhausted and crabby and discombobulated. At 3:00 pm I'm drinking coffee and fretting that it will mess up my sleep but I'm so tired I can barely function.

It's only an hour, but it's a terrible hour. It feels like I lose an hour every single morning this week.

The other night, almost too tired to function, my daughter sobbed, "WHY? Why does it have to say 7:58 and be bedtime when really it's 6:58? It's not fair!!!"

And I nodded sympathetically, although secretly dying for her to fall asleep so that I could do the same.

I said, "I know. I hate it and it''s really frustrating, but we don't get to choose. It's all because of THE  GOVERNMENT."

I figure fomenting some healthy distrust can't start too early.