Dear daylight savings… You cruel cruel concept. 

After googling you, I’ve found that your time changing ways were meant to help certain industries… Blah blah… Extra daylight after working hours.. Blah blah.. Summer. Winter. Moon shifts. Axial something. Whatever. 

I don’t really care, but I can tell you that I was up Wikipediing you at 2am and writing to you at 4am while feeding my baby who was previously sleeping through the night. Then you came along and struck right through our bliss and interrupted our precious, delicate, barely established sleep schedule and now all hell’s broken loose. 

You ended a week ago. A week. One might think that’s enough time for an infant to recoup. Enough time for her tiny little body and confused circadian rhythm to transition. Adjust. Come around. How can I be mad if we gained an hour of sleep? You ask. I should be grateful for the extra sleep you’ve graced us with. You say. 

Hogwash. 

I have lost hours upon hours because of your ‘generosity’ and sudden upheaval of all that was well and good in our well-slept household.  

Thanks for nothing, 
The Hesses. Collectively. We are all awake and strongly dislike you.