I am NOT happy about the clocks going back. I have spent years training my children to sleep slightly later in the morning. We've been moving forward at snail's pace, with the odd minute added here and there so that they now wake up on average about 6.17am. This is still unacceptably early in my book, but a lot better than what it has been for the last 4.5 years.
But now that the clocks have gone back, we're back at square one. 5am arrives and two small boys bounce out of bed, ready to start their day. This hasn't been terribly bad for me - yet - as husband is always up at the time because he's just plain weird. Not only does he get up at this ungodly hour, but he then goes to the gym to exercise. I mean what kind of barking mad person ever does that - much less on a frosty October morning?
But because the children are up at 5am, it means that they've already had 3 days worth of tv by 7.30am. Which leaves them listless and bored and wanting me to entertain them while I'm still trying to pump caffeine in intravenously. What's more, it means they're hungry and have had breakfast by 6.30am. This means that by mid-morning they turn into hobbits and need a second breakfast. And it also means that by the end of the day they are incredibly tired and thoroughly unpleasant to be around.
It's not just the children's early waking that the clock change has brought about. It has viciously cut short the day. I can handle rain. I can handle cold (just). But I cannot handle it getting dark at 5pm (and I know there's only worse to come as we plod towards the bleakness of winter). When it gets dark early, my body believes that it's bedtime. I become lethargic and unable to do anything other than shovel steamed puddings and belly sticking stews into my gob. My body retains all this food as it too knows that winter is coming and might need some added layers of blubber to keep it warm. Add to this that it's now impossible to hang clothes on a line to dry, resulting in excessive tumble dryer usage, leading to excessive clothes shrinking, and my entire wardrobe starts to feel a little snug.
This makes me grumpy too. In fact there is nothing that puts me in bad mood more (with the exception of having a negative bank balance and neighbours with hedge issues) than trouser buttons that dig into my belly button and love handles that are perpetually making a bid for freedom, as they squeeze their way out from between the top of my trousers and the bottom of my shirt.
Time also seems to move more slowly now that the clocks have gone back. This is subliminal. We've spent all of summer (such as it was) retraining our brains so that a quick glance outside will give you a good estimate as to what the time is. Now that same quick glance tells you it's an hour later than what the clocks say. It's like waking up on a Thursday believing it's a Friday. Only it's not. It's all very disconcerting.
Anyway, I must go and turn the television off before my children do genuinely start to get square eyes and they must be due their second breakfast by now.