I’ve never been a fan of daylight savings. I know everyone is like, “It’s the start of summer! Daylight late into the evening!” but for me it’s more of the, “lose an hour of sleep? Uh no thank you.” And now that we have Prim in the mix, there’s a whole new level of complication to the time change.

Over the weekend I went down to my parents’ house to hang out with Alexis and her little one; and despite my best efforts to make Prim adaptable to new environments, the change in scenery did not go over well with her sleep schedule. She was up way more than normal at night, was grumpy during the day, and everything was pretty much out of whack. Since the time change was happening this weekend, I hoped that her being tired and a little off-schedule would make the transition onto the new clock a little easier, but man was I wrong.

On Sunday night she actually went down easily at her normal bedtime, around 7pm. I, on the other hand, had trouble falling asleep before midnight (because it’s really 11pm! Who thought of this asinine time change anyway?) Shortly after I finally fell asleep, Prim woke up at 1:30am. This isn’t out of the ordinary — she normally still wakes up once at night, and the timing of when that happens varies night to night.

I went in and nursed her and got her back to sleep, thinking (foolishly) that this was her one wake up of the night. Then at 4:30am, she was up again. I thought perhaps she would get herself back to sleep, but to no avail. I went into her room again and nursed her, but this time she didn’t go back to sleep right away. Occasionally she’ll fuss for a minute or two after I put her back down and then fall asleep, but on this particular night, this was not the case. She worked herself up until she was all but inconsolable, screaming her head off at 5am.

I ended up being awake with her until 6:30am when my alarm went off to tell me to get up and get ready for work, just as she finally fell back to sleep — yayyy.

It was one of those tough nights I’d prefer not to repeat.

Daylight savings — you’re the worst.