Every morning before I go to work, but after I shuttle my son out the door to catch the school bus, I have half an hour to myself.
This half-hour is precious. It's half an hour why nobody needs me to do anything--and believe me when you're the mother of a special needs child, having half an hour to yourself is a real treat and generally only comes at bedtime or in the car on my commute to and from work.
I've fallen into a pattern, and it's a nice one. I make myself a cup of tea (I've never been a coffee drinker), and I opened up Facebook to the "Memories" section.