I hadn't had to deal with that issue for a long time, not since I first got Teddy Braun in 1988, so it keeps taking me by surprised when I find shards of pencil, or a decapitated stuffed pig lying around.
We are in the dreariest portion of Oregon winter, the part when it doesn't snow and ice, but is it just long drenching cycles of gray damp, dark mornings, and drizzle, not really warm enough for a parka, but not shirt sleeve weather either.
The dog is not pleased to go out into that scene alone in the mornings, when I need her to pee self sufficiently, she wants companionship, so that adds an extra wrinkle to my morning.
I've purchased pink Hello Kitty rain boots for Freyja, as an enticement to walk to dog, but it's pretty hit and miss so far.
When my children were younger, I dressed in darkness, creeping down the stairs in silence to bathe quickly, which allowed them to sleep a bit later.
Rolf would walk Maxwell to school for me, and I would take the sleeping baby or toddler to work with me in pajamas, dressing her in my office. In those days I opened the school by myself, in the winter darkness, hoping no homeless people were sleeping in the playground tree-house.
These days I have to have them up and ready and in the car for carpooling to different schools, so I turn on all the lights and walk the dog, careful to give the cat a wide berth; the new dog has not yet made peace with the old cat.
It is all very stressful, and requires care and timing.
I frequently marvel at the mechanical way I do this routine five days a week. It never changes, but it almost always feels remarkable to me that such a simple life is so cluttered and complicated. Not smooth at all.
The past few nights have been broken up into segments punctuated by vivid dreams.
A friend told me it was the new moon phase that was waking me up.
I wish it would stop.
Sleep is hard enough to come by.
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