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There is a distinctly cyclical nature to my days these days.  I am a creature of routine, if not habit, and while I welcome the safety that comes with the “set list” of my life, I find myself saddened by the turn it has taken.  Oh sure, there is the natural line that stretches from my own school days to those of my children, and now to the swift shift my oldest takes as he prepares to graduate from college and go to work (read, find a damn job).  Of the three, he is the least likely, in temperament, to return home; he couldn’t wait to shake the Mom dust from his heels.  And Thing Two?  He has surprised me with his eagerness to find his own way, perhaps because he has always seemed so, oh I don’t know, cozy.  As for Emma, I can practically hear the sproing as she grows up and away.  And this is all fine.