"I must govern the clock, not be governed by it." - Golda Meir
I know, I know. Everyone is looking forward to spring. The warm breeze, the sunlight, the daffodils breaking through the icy ground, inspiring us by how they can survive the winter. The kids are finally getting to go outside to play, running around, getting rid of all that pent up energy. I agree, I'm all for it. I can't take another snow day. I'm all for letting the kids play outside instead of being cooped up. I'm going a little stir crazy too. I don't think I can continue looking at my beautiful, adorable children, surrounded by video games, books and toys, all the while they are whining, "mommy, we're bored!".
But then it hits you, just as we are all counting down the number of days until the first day of spring, just as everyone starts to joke about March coming in like a lion and going out like a lamb, you hear it. Those four cute words that will rock your world. Spring Forward, Fall Back. Those few words that not only will turn your world upside down, but also that of your special needs child.
The idea can be quite comical. In what other country do we think we can add on to the day, by turning the clock back? It's still the same 24 hours we had before. Well, technically only 23 hours for one day in March and 25 hours one day in November. We have such a superior attitude in our control of time that we even changed the day from October to November to give the kiddoes more "day" for trick or treating, but I digress.
One of the most important parts of being able to survive in the special needs world is sleep. Sleep for you and sleep for your child. An entire night's sleep is seldom if ever seen, but if you are one of the lucky ones, you may get a few hours together. The only way to survive the endless doctor appointments, the constant fights with the insurance company, the being there for your child's every second of every day (except for those disappearing 86,400 seconds in March), as well as being supermom to your other children and that wonder woman to your husband (or significant other) is the ability to sleep through the night. The government, in all mighty wisdom, has come into our bedrooms and shaken up our routine. And the one thing you never do to a special needs child is mess with their routine.
You try waking up a special needs cutie in the dark and tell her she has to get up to go to school. Even our typical kiddos want no part of that. Then, let's add in we are putting them to bed in the day light. Their response, party in the bedroom, party in the night, party all the time, until they pass out only a few hours before you get to wake them up again.
Yes, I am looking forward to spring, waking up to the sunshine and birds singing in the trees. But for now, I'm just trying to get used to a new time frame, a new normal. Excuse me, while I grab my robe in the dark, trip over the dog to get to the kids, all while looking forward to the second most important part of being able to survive in the special needs world, that first cup of coffee, which for me, shines brighter than any sunrise ever could.
