Daylight savings will cause bedtime woes for parents

The proposal is so modest, it should hardly be counted as a proposal. And it’s not even mine; I credit it to Dr. Jonathan Millen, the dean of the College of Liberal Arts and Sciences at Rider University, where I’m an adjunct instructor. (I think he’s my boss. Not sure.)

But he was my professor back when we were both young and mulleted, and it was then he mentioned something so obvious, smart, and on-point it was aggravating I hadn’t thought of it myself: Instead of switching the clocks twice a year, we should simply turn the clocks forward a half-hour on daylight savings day and then never touch them again.

Last night would’ve been a perfect opportunity. Instead of throwing ourselves off-kilter twice a year, we just split the difference once and be done with it. We should treat time much like a Ronco 4000: Set it and forget it.

Listen: I love the extra hours of daylight as much as the next guy, but give me a half-hour less of it and I won’t notice. Come wintertime, it sure is swell to have some daylight in wee hours of morn, but again: Who the hell cares.

And this is not just a rant for the sake of ranting: Lives are at risk, and I’m not being hyperbolic. Numerous studies have found accidents and fatalities go up in the days after a time change.

From the University of Colorado Boulder: Over 300 traffic deaths in the first week after we spring forward are a result of the time change. A 2009 study published in the Journal of Applied Sciences claimed there were more injuries in the workplace following time changes. A National Geographic story claimed heart attacks occur 10 percent more often in the days following a time change.

And not for nothing, it’s annoying. Very, very, annoying. Especially for parents, a special interest group of which I am a card-carrying member. Millen agrees. “We have a hard enough time making sense of the logic ourselves, let alone trying to explain it to the children whose sleep schedules are unnecessarily thrown into chaos twice a year,” he said. Chaos doesn’t begin to describe it. To wit: I am fearful of what’s going to happen around 7 p.m. tonight when the bedtime routine begins. This is going to be R-rated for language (I’ll be cursing) and violence (I’ll be punching inanimate objects in and around my house such as doors, garbage cans, and hanging plants).

At it’s best, when my household is running like a Swiss watch on Adderall, bedtime is a fractious affair. There is crying, screaming, kicking — and that’s just me. But don’t get me wrong; the kids also cry, scream and kick. There are deals struck, bargains made. There has been candy in bed, OK? OK? Are you happy now? I have given my children candy in bed in order to get them to lie down.

But as any parent will tell you, “lying down” is not where the war is won. They have to actually fall asleep, which is very difficult to accomplish when they’re constantly claiming unquenched thirst, famine-levels of hunger, and the always clever “I have to poop.” You just can’t tell a kid he’s not allowed to poop. That’s definitely in the manual.

So you can imagine the fun tonight will bring, when 7 p.m. feels like 6 p.m. and the sun is still shining bright. Honestly, I can see my wife and I punting and letting them stay up to watch “Big Little Lies.”

Of course, a whole new set of problems will arise Monday morning at 7 a.m., when it feels like 6 a.m., when it’s still dark, and when they have to get up so they can fight me about getting dressed, eating breakfast, and my god why aren’t you dressed yet?

Now that I’ve gotten myself all worked up, I beg of you to heed the words of Dr. Millen and start telling anyone who will listen about the one-time-only 30 minute idea. It’s simple, elegant, and perfect. It’s time has come. (Didn’t mean to pun there.)