Thanks Ben Franklin. Thanks for nothing.
Thanks for coming up with the idea of daylight saving time, or as I like to call it, screw-with-the-baby’s-sleep-schedule time.
I understand that this daylight saving time idea really took hold during a period of war as a way to conserve fuel. And I like fuel conservation. That’s nice. That’s green. But somebody please explain it to Camille.
She’s already an early-riser. Not ridiculously so – I’ve heard tales of babies who routinely get up at 5 a.m. – but still a little too early for her parents (who are NOT morning people.) Lately, she’s been getting up between 6:15 and 6:30, with some occasional slight variation.
Yesterday we took a trip to Jacksonville to visit Lee’s Dad, Donna and Granny. It was a good trip, made even easier by the fact that Camille snoozed the whole way there and back (after hugging on her little lamb – how cute!).

So we didn’t have too much trouble getting her to stay up an extra hour last night. We hoped that pushing her bedtime would also push her wake-up time an hour. Not so.
She was ready-to-go at 5:40 – oh, no wait, thanks to Ben Franklin, make that 4:40 this morning.
Ugh.
Poor Lee – it was his morning to get up early, and the guilt of it all kept me from going back to sleep very well. I really don’t care which time schedule we go with, standard or daylight-saving, but just pick one! And stick to it!
So, it’s not quite 9 p.m., but I’m about to go to bed. I’m on early morning duty tomorrow, and who knows how early that will be.
Curse you Ben Franklin and your incessant urge to enjoy more sunshine and conserve energy! Curse you!