Remembering My Bathrobe

One of the most bizarre aspects of having children with diagnoses of Autism that I rarely discussion is the invasion factor. Generally I'm on good terms with our children's therapists, because if I'm not... Well, they don't stick around long. But that's rarely an issue.

However, now that my sleep schedule is practically non-existent, meaning I am asleep or awake with absolutely no predictable time-table, sometimes a therapy session or two is in full-swing when I get up in the "morning." This has been an interesting issue, especially since we now have a male therapist.

My husband wears full-length, rather conservative pajamas. While it's not recommended that he go around the house in his p.j.s all day, it's not a big deal either. Even if there are anywhere from one to three young women in our house that are not family members throughout the day. He's covered, so it's fine.

However, in the summer time I am a little less clad. I'm not talking about anything slinky or anything, it's not like I wear lingerie to bed, because frankly I wouldn't get much sleep if I did. It's just when I'm first waking up in the morning, wearing white capri pajama bottoms and a decent, if rather thin cami for the pajama tops, I don't want to walk into my living room, barely awake, and look my son's male therapist in the eye. It's just not kosher!

In the winter time, or even the fall, it's not an issue because I just wear a sweatshirt and flannel bottoms. I've taken my kids to school in that stuff. But now... There's definitely a price involved that I hadn't fully considered when I decided to go with the dainty, feminine lacy stuff. So, next time I went to the store I gave a reluctant nod to the whole my-house-is-not-my-own thing and bought the matching bathrobe, which is still white, lacy and feminine, but it's got long-sleeves and is much more, um, modest. Now all I have to do is remember to put it on before I go downstairs.