Nothing has progressed on the Daylight Savings Catastrophe that has Eamon up at 5:15 AM every morning. His system is not adjusting, he is always up early, and I am increasingly tired and desperate.
The other morning, I even broke the cardinal rule and when Eamon woke up at 5:17AM, I took him into our bed, hoping that maybe my presence would be enough comfort to get him back to sleep. The following drama ensued.
KATE: You can get up at six o'clock, Eamon. SIX. Not until SIX. If you can't sleep, just lie still and be quiet so that Mommy can sleep. SIX, Eamon. We can wake up at SIX.
Quiet. Kate starts to fall asleep. Eamon lies still and is quiet.
EAMON: (at 5:26AM) Mimi? Sih?
KATE: No. Go back to sleep.
EAMON: (at 5:36AM) Mimi? Mimi? Sih?
EAMON: (at 5:46AM) Sih! Sih! Mimi!
KATE: SIX O'CLOCK, Eamon. SIX ZERO ZERO.
EAMON: (at 5:56AM) MIMI! SIH! SIH! MIIIIIIMIIIIII!!!
Well, we finally made it to 6:00 and got up. I learned an important lesson: yes, Eamon knows what a 6 looks like, even in digital, but obviously can't distinguish between minutes and hours. It was like having the world's cutest snooze alarm.
I was relating this little anecdote to my husband, who has this annoying habit of being extraneously sensible about things, and he just blinked at me and said, "Then put a piece of paper or something over the minutes."
I think I will.
We're going away for Thanksgiving, but that's what we're going to try this weekend. And we shall see, my friends. We shall see.