Did you know that nine- and eleven-year-old kids still expect to receive an Easter basket on Easter morning? This did not occur to me until recently. I get lulled into complacency by the fact that we’re done with indoor playgrounds and the constant supervision stage; I forget that some childhood embellishments last much longer than others. (But… how long does the Easter basket thing go on? Asking for a friend.)

Lest you think I’m a terrible mom for nearly forgetting Easter baskets, I did pull through with green pancakes for breakfast on Saint Patrick’s Day. And shamrock shakes earlier in the week! See, I do better when there is no sense of obligation or crushing weight of expectations.

I’m feeling proud of my fitness level lately, even though I still look like the “before” picture when I waddle into the gym. On two recent hikes I’ve barely felt the elevation gains when others (including my kids) were huffing and puffing and wishing for death. This is especially heartening because I joined the gym almost exactly a year ago and have been feeling badly about not accomplishing my main goal: to run three miles. But I am feeling good and strong despite my failure to achieve my running goal, and real world progress has been made.

I went wandering in a cemetery last week and was absolutely taken by the most gorgeous mausoleum I have ever seen. I started researching the family who is interred within and it turned out to be an even better story than I expected with lots of interesting twists and turns along the way. I am obsessed and hope to share more about this once I get the threads all neatly woven together.