Did I Ask For Your Opinion?

 It's evening now, not quite 8:00, and I'm counting the minutes until I can make my hot cocoa, brush my teeth and go to bed. It's been a long day, and the time change. It's dark at 5:30. Ugh. No class this morning, but Youngest Child had a Physical Therapy appointment at 10:30 appointment. The usual two hour head start to get out the door. Hopefully on time. 6:00 a.m. I slowly wake up and notice that it isn't quite daylight yet. But the cat is circling, prowling, and scratching. Demanding to be fed. I do my normal step step, step step, step step, down the stairs in my old person shuffle kind of way. I stumble around downstairs, checking the stove, going pee, removing my bite guard. And then it's snuggle time on the couch with my dog. Just 30 minutes I tell myself as I pop my earbuds into my ears and cue up a podcast. 30 minutes I sigh as I pull the blanket up around my shoulders. And then it's 7:30, NOT 30 minutes later, but still doable. Chickens let out, d...

 I'm cross legged in the corner of the couch, my dog taking up the other two thirds. The cat is lurking over my shoulder like a vulture on the back of the couch. Waiting for his breakfast. But he will have to wait a little bit longer because I can't get into the bathroom yet. The water is running, running, running in the bathroom sink. My man child is zoning out as he obsessively washes his hands. This creature that came from me, now the size of a man, while inside lurks a volatile combination of teen angst and childlike wonder. The obsessive hand washing is two parts germ phobia (born from the days of having to wipe down all our groceries with a Clorox wipe before putting them away for consumption) and one large part sensory grounding. Meanwhile I am calling his name every three or four minutes to which he responds with a slightly irritated "Yes, I'm coming!" This is part of our Monday morning routine of trying to get him out the door to make it to his 9:00 a.m. ...