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Turning back clock turns day into magic
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Published: November 13, 2008
We knew change was coming. And last week our country embraced the change I've craved for so long. Some states, including Arizona, don't support it. But I believe change was necessary, and welcomed it with open arms.
Of course I'm referring to the ending of Daylight Savings Time.
Different theories abound as to why we mess with Father Time twice a year. It conserves energy, helps the farmers, allows more sunlight at morning bus stops, any of which work for me. Magically adding one hour to my day every fall is pure bliss.
This year was perfect, because my kids crashed from their Halloween sugar high on Sunday morning, when they slept until 7:45. Yes, people, this is my life, when not being nudged out of bed until 7:45 on the weekend counts as "sleeping in." My husband and I are accustomed to early wake-up calls. Notice I didn't say we like it.
But wait. What does the clock say? 6:45? Yet I'm so refreshed, because my body thinks it's almost 8 a.m. Oh, welcome back Standard Time! I've missed you!
Everyone leapt out of bed and stomped downstairs. Now what? "Let's go out to breakfast!" I suggested, feeling quite celebratory. So back upstairs we bounced, got dressed and drove to our favorite eatery two minutes down the road. The kids stuffed pancakes in their mouths, my husband enjoyed his omelet, and I savored a good cup of coffee and the knowledge that it wasn't even 8 a.m. and my kitchen and living room weren't messy with dirty dishes and toys.
We went to the park, I did some yard work, my husband tinkered in the garage, the kids played. The day seemed to last forever, and it was actually a good thing.
Darkness arrived by 6:30, which, in January, will depress me. But please understand that my kids have the energy of two chihuahuas dipped in Kool Aid. They can't tell time yet, and darkness to them means the end of the day. It's an evil trick to play on their little bodies, but God help me, I love it. The ramifications of an earlier bedtime are huge! More time to myself in the evening, less "I'm-sorry-you're-tired-but-get-out-of-bed" arguments the next morning.
Don't get me wrong, I'll celebrate the summer solstice this June with equal vigor. This weekend, when I'm rudely awakened at 7:01 it will feel like 7:01, because my body will have adjusted to the time change. Two Sundays from now, I'll have a laundry list of to-dos left undone because of running out of time. But I'm savoring the moment, albeit it a brief one, when time is on my side.
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