Today is Palm Sunday. My parents gave the boys palms. My children don't even know who Jesus is. They know about God, I think. I myself am a recovering Catholic. I do not feel the need to go to Church. Around here, the ministers are frustrated LA actor types; flowing hair, beards, a What's Happenin' Now? kind of feel-good singing and dancing type of preaching dude, pretty much doing a LOOK AT ME LOOK AT ME routine. *yawn* For those of you that go to church and get something really good out of it, that's great.
I have not done Pilates for 10 years now. We have a Reformer in the lower level, but I don't use it. And the only mammal on the treadmill is the rabbit - he likes to sun on it. We belong to a very nice club, and I sometimes take the children to the very good daycare, go do a sauna and hot tub, get a massage, take a long shower and then go pick up the kids. Work out? Nah.
I eat chocolate every day. Dark chocolate.
I don't pay as much attention to our sons as I should. They entertain themselves. I may regret this when they get a bit older and don't want to have much to do with me.
I worry about weird stuff. Not things I should worry about. Right now, we've had a way-above-average snowpack for the winter. I am worried about flooding when them thar hills start doing their annual thaw - nobody else is. Yet, I should be doing more for my health. Dropping dead of a heart attack is alot bigger risk for me than flooding, yet do I worry about leaving my children motherless? Yeah, okay; I do worry about that. But not as much as the flooding.