Whether beginning or ending, daylight saving time can always wreak havoc on your sleeping patterns, but I’ve never ever considered that there might come a day when gaining an hour of sleep would prove so utterly fruitless.
Obviously, babies have no concept of the singular opportunity that the end of daylight saving time provides — that one, sweet hour we get every fall. Sure, we have to pay it back in the springtime, but when it happens, that one hour is mana from the very firmament of God’s wellspring.
Naturally, Miles had no time for such nonsense. Not only did he wake up in the middle of the night precisely during the Magic Hour™, he also woke back up at what was, as far as he knew, his normal time — which, in this case, ended up being 5:30 in the morning. It made for a rough Sunday.
This difficulty extended to today, where Miles expressed great distaste at finding the sky dark upon leaving daycare. For the first time I can recall, he cried during the car ride home, only relenting when he finally succumbed to sleep*. Overall, it was a real study in just how archaic the entire DST enterprise is; natural human instinct, at its most animalistic and unrefined, defies and rages against this time shift wholeheartedly.