I really hate the time change. (I'd like to propose we just split the difference and go forward 30 minutes and leave it there.) When you're a scheduled mom like me, it throws you off quite a bit. I decided I'd just go ahead and complain on the blog because all kinds of weird things have happened in the last few days and I've decided to blame it all on the time change. It hit me especially hard this spring since Jimmy had to work and I got everyone ready for church by myself and managed to arrive at church seven minutes early (quite a victory) only to discover I was really 53 minutes LATE. It really threw me off for the entire day.
I really didn't know what time it was for the rest of the day. I'm usually the time change nazi and am the one running around the night before saying "Go to bed, it's really an hour later!" and have gone so far as to move my schedule ahead (or behind) 30 minutes the week before so the adjustment is not as hard.
Weird things have been happening. Sunday was a huge blur and ended with me serving a dinner that will definitely win me Mom of the Year: drumroll please... Hot Dogs and Waffles! Yes, I didn't even attempt anything healthy. Oh, well, I did throw some leftover peas on Penelope's tray. I didn't plan this...I didn't plan anything which is why we ended up eating junk. I think it will be my new time change menu from here on out.
Jimmy had been working all day Sunday, trying to clean a floor of the office building he cleans that was coated multiple times with old floor wax. What was going to be a few hours of work for him ended up in him bending over the floor peeling wax off (kind of like when you start peeling old paint and can't stop because it's addicting and once you start you can't stop) for eight hours.
Then, on Monday, Jimmy was out meeting someone about the floor and I'm trying to fix a real dinner (after the time change meal I had to redeem myself) and eat quick before leaving for worship team rehearsal. I turn on the oven and place the casserole dish inside only to a few minutes later have my house fill with smoke and the smell of wax because someone oh so lovingly placed a crayon in my oven! What is it with my children and the proper usage of writing utensils!? Did I or did I not graduate from art school?
After my worship team rehearsal we called in friends to baby sit and I peeled wax and helped Jimmy clean for over three hours. Talk about deviating from my normal schedule. And on time change week! I must be insane. I WILL relinquish control and "be flexible" and "go with the flow" as I preach to my kids all the time.
Today I walked around with a blob of poop on my shirt for like an hour, wondering why I kept smelling it. Later, at 5:15 I looked at my watch and it said 3:15. I have NO idea how this happened. I had already fixed my watch. It's just trying to mess me up even more! Then, tonight I'm home alone with sleeping children and all is quiet and I hear something on my back deck. I try to ignore it and not get freaked out but I decide to scope it out only to see a big possum messing around with a plastic bucket. STAY AWAY you big rat! Or I'll serve you hot dogs and waffles, fling poop on you, take you to church really late and then force you to inhale burnt crayon smoke! We'll see if you ever come back to my house!