Daylight Savings Strikes Back

I can't quite exactly pin when it first started to occur.

There's vague memories of P-Finn sneaking into our bed to fall back asleep in the grayness between late, late night and early, early morning. Of course, I managed to sleep through most of the disruption, only to wake with him situated sideways with his heel lodged into my rib cage.

Those visitations were few enough. It once seemed like an anomaly when Patrick would actually wake... moments before I was ready to leave for work while everyone else continued to sleep.

Turn on the TV, and flip to either Disney or Nickelodeon. Grab him a teacup full of dry cereal. A glass of ice tea. Toss a blanket atop (while carefully tucking in the sides to cocoon him under a quilted mass). I could actually manage to sneak out the door before the next commercial break.

We had unknowingly established a new morning routine.

This waking before work became a bit of a habit. Somewhere between rotation, revolution, and the tilt of the earth-- my son started to wake up a little earlier every morning as the darkness of winter gave way to longer hours of spring daylight.

The sunlight would creep, curling his luminous fingers around tightly drawn shades, prying my son's eyes open to the breaking dawn."Dad. The sun is out!" he'd exclaim as he'd burst out of the bedroom. Standing on his tippy toes, Patrick would stretch and bellow an exaggerated yawn, interjecting, "Dad. I do like you!" before resuming a mock up of my morning stretches.

The man appeared to enjoy the additional father/son time (free of Mom & Maura). So did I... at first. A few seconds compounds over time. One week I am enjoying cereal and cartoons on the couch for a few minutes.

The next week I'd find him patiently sprawled out on the cold, tile floor waiting for me to step out of the shower. I'd struggle to keep him entertained as I readied myself for work and maintain my own morning schedule.

Waking earlier provided P-Finn with the opportunity to him to flex his opinion. Morning juice? Ice tea. No... orange juice. No... apple juice. Green cup? No... Blue cup. Sorry bub, that one is in the washer. Can you believe this kid actually asked for popcorn instead of cereal? Pop corn: no good. Corn puffs: well, they are OK.

Then there was the selection of television station. We had to compare Nick against Disney to see which offered the better program. He'd ask for programs that weren't airing, and we'd have to settle on what was currently being televised.

My morning had become mired down in meeting the picky demands of a 3-year-old. It was only a matter of time before I found myself serving up a breakfast platter, satisfying his request to watch particular cartoon episodes on either Netflix or On Demand.

It wasn't as if I didn't value the added father/son time. His waking had an inverse relationship with my leaving for work on time: the earlier he rose, the later (and later) managed to sneak out the door. Handling a toddler strictly by myself, while under a tight schedule, was a bit tough.

I started to question it all: how did it come to this? Where did I go awry as a parent? I needed a fast-acting solution short of waking Mom & Maura to divert Patricks's attention in the morning.

I looked forward to the prospect of resetting the clocks to Spring Ahead. An adjustment in one hour would allow me to slip out of the household under the cover of darkness. Sure, I'd loose an hour of sleep over the weekend, but it would pale in comparison to what I'd regain with my solitary morning routine.

In reality: daylight savings is a sick experiment on the sleep time routine of little children.

Yeah, so P-Finn wakes to the rising sun a clock hour later; his nighttime routine is offset by an equal amount. It's a difficult concept for a toddler to understand that exact clock hours do not necessarily correlate with sunrise and set; our biological needs are attuned to the rhythm of day and season.

This change in clock time and extra sunlight translates into a later bedtime hours for several more days until we can veer Patrick onto a new evening routine. At least he should start sleeping through my pre-work routine. Though, to be honest, I'll miss out on that small window of father son time.