Okay, ONE more thing about the time change, and then I’m over it. Pinky swear.

If there is any societal benefit to changing the time, it comes the cost of mothers’ sanity. Parents’ sanity, really. I’ve been so freaking tired this week that I can’t even figure out which mundane activity to do next. I get stuck standing in the middle of the room thinking: dishes? or laundry? dishes? or laundry? Which is awesome because it doesn’t even matter, just pick one and get on with it!

We may be adjusting, finally. Audrey hasn’t napped in a couple of days, but she’s been asleep by 8pm, so I’ll take it.

Last night I went to bed at 10:30, which is something like three hours early for me. I didn’t do anything after the kids went to bed. Nothing. Not one thing. Zero things. (Well, some things; I talked to Dane, I ate some more, I brushed my teeth. But none of those count as Things. I mean, if you were making a list of Things To Do, none of those are likely to make the cut, right? You might put “eat,” but probably not “eat more.” See?) (Did I mention the thing about being so tired I get stuck with the nonsense? Yes, well.)

…

And now I’ve spent much too long trying to come up with a logical conclusion to this blog post. Note to self: Give up now! Get more sleep! The end.