To me, “Fall Back” is like a crappy ex-boyfriend who seemed great for a while, but then turned out to be a low-life cheating jerk. Think about it. For decades of my life, “Fall Back” wooed me with sweet talk and gifts: “Hey, girl! How about an extra hour of sleep?” he said. Or, “Look! I got you an extra hour to party with your friends! Let’s go to Taco Bell!”
Yes, turning the clock back on a Saturday night was awesome and had no downside. It was Ryan
Gosling in “The Notebook” or George Clooney in, well…anything.
I really thought we were gonna make it, "Fall Back."
But then. Then, things changed. Then I had kids, and “Fall Back” couldn’t stand the pressure. Overnight, “Fall Back” changed. He turned into James Spader in “Pretty in Pink.” Or that guy Joe in “Say Anything.” (Remember? “Joe lies! Joe lies! Joe lies…when he cries.”)
Yes, “Fall Back” betrayed me, and hard. Because my kids couldn’t care less about sleeping late. Every year on the Sunday after “Fall Back,” they wake up ugodly early. Instead of an extra hour of sleep or partying, I get an extra hour of whining and sibling rivalry. Instead of more time in my cozy bed or having beers with friends, I got more time to clean up Legos or pour endless bowls of Cheerios.
The thing is, I love my kids and I love spending time with them. They don’t actually whine and fight all that much, and I clean Legos and pour Cheerios daily with no major issues. But I still associate
“Fall Back” with more sleep or more fun, and now that those things have been snatched away from me…I’m bitter.
That is, I WAS bitter. But now? Now I’m waving my glass of wine in the air and singing Gloria Gaynor’s “I Will Survive” with my girlfriends. Because this year I finally found a way to beat “Fall Back,” even though I have small children. I OWN “Fall Back” now, and I’m going to share my secret with you.
Yeah, he looks good but...evil.
The key to getting revenge on that scoundrel “Fall Back” is simple: pretend it’s not happening. Normally, I’d set all my clocks back an hour before I went to bed on Saturday night: This year I didn’t. When I heard my boys singing their usual good morning song the next morning (“Vagina! Vagina! Beautiful vagina!”), the clock said 6:30, as usual. No biggie.We went about our day pretty much as normal, except that I pushed back our meal times a bit. Then, I got to be an absolute hero that evening when I told my boys I was going to let them stay up late to read some extra stories. “Hooray for Mommy! She’s the best!” they crowed, and I played along—tucking them in at “7:30,” a half-hour past their regular bedtime.
Except it wasn’t actually 7:30, was it?
Oh no, it wasn’t. As soon as their heads hit their pillows, I ran around the house and set the clocks back an hour and lo and behold…
I GOT AN EXTRA HOUR! AN EXTRA HOUR OF KIDS ASLEEP IN THEIR BEDS AND A QUIET HOUSE! AN EXTRA HOUR TO DRINK WINE AND BLOG AND WATCH MINDLESS TELEVISION!!
I finally got revenge on that a-hole “Fall Back.”
Now, this plan is not without its possible pitfalls. If you had to be somewhere at a certain time during the day, you’d have to keep in mind that the rest of the world was an hour earlier than you. And yes, the kids will probably be up earlier than usual tomorrow morning. But here’s the thing—tomorrow is MONDAY and that’s a whole different ball game than Sunday. My ornery 5-year-old will be his kindergarten teacher’s problem for a good part of the day, and my younger kids and I will have our usual Monday activities to keep us busy.
So, yeah, the wheels might fall off come bedtime, and I expect a meltdown or two, but the important thing is that I WIN AT DAYLIGHT SAVINGS AGAIN. I got my extra hour, and I showed that no-good cheating scoundrel “Fall Back” that I Will Survive.
