I did not put my pajamas on at 3:30 p.m.
I did not serve my kids leftovers for dinner.
I did not turn on and then stand in front of my oven to get warm.
I most certainly did not spend an hour fooling around with the settings on my camera and taking a ton of totally random photos.
I do not desperately need to do laundry.
I didn't tear up heavily when I read The Giving Tree to Ian because I personified the tree to be myself and the boy to be, naturally, Ian. I didn't have to pause while reading the end where the boy has grown very old and leaves the tree all alone in order to collect myself so that the tears streaming down my face didn't erupt into a full-fledged sob-fest.
I do not put my children off when they ask me to do something. Not once this week did I say, "Uh, huh, sure Darling, in just a sec," and then answer them again in the exact same way when just a sec became two whole minutes later and they asked me again.
And, last but certainly not least, this past week I did not try, again, to tell God that I know better then He does. And He did not, again, remind me through my circumstances that He does, in fact, know better and that all I need to do is nothing. He will do the rest.