22 Day Push-up Challenge – Complete

And that’s it folks. 22 push-ups a day for 22 days.

22 push-ups a day for 22 days. For PTSD awareness. For more info see Day 1

I actually did my push-ups at the gym today. I’m sorry to admit the gym and I did not see much of each other over the summer. I figure with the school year officially underway it’s time to get back into working out as well. We’ll see how long that lasts.

 

22 Day Push-up Challenge Continues

Ok, I’ve been lazy about posting. For the record I did accomplish my 22 push-ups for days 11 though 16. Less than a week to go.

This week also included cousins getting to know each other thanks to a visit from my sister-in-law with her daughter over the long weekend; and the munchkin survived his first day in daycare today. Or, perhaps I should say, I survived his first day in daycare.

22 push-ups a day for 22 days. For PTSD awareness. For more info see Day 1

 

Ivan Was Right…and More Push-ups

For those of you who I’m sure are dying to know, I did my push-ups yesterday and today. That’s days 9 and 10 down of 22 push-ups a day for 22 days to raise PTSD awareness. For more info see Day 1

In other news:

When I was about seven, there was this show I watched called Puttnam’s Pairie Emporium. One of the characters of this show was an amateur scientist named Ivan. He invented a time closet that worked as a jumping off point for many a plot.

But it isn’t the time-travel episodes that have stuck in my brain since 1989. Rather, it’s an episode that explained all those things you can’t find when you need them, but turn up when you’re not looking for them, why socks disappear in the dryer. Why your keys aren’t where you’re absolutely 100% sure you left them, etc, etc.

It’s the wormholes (or maybe it was quantum fluctuations, I can’t remember exactly). Point is, the universe snags stuff at random then, if it feels like it, gives the stuff back later and usually in a slightly different place than it was taken from. Even at the age of seven, I knew this was fanciful.

Today I decided I was wrong. Ivan was right, and the universe is messing with me.

There’s a narrow little brush I use when washing baby bottles. There’s only one place I put it, ever. Today it wasn’t there. It wasn’t anywhere in the vicinity of there. I mean no biggie, I have another one, but seriously where does this stuff go?

And, no, no one else would have moved it. I am the only one who washes the bottles. Don’t judge hubby though, he does the laundry. We were ten years into our relationship before we figured it out, but we’ve learned I hate folding laundry almost as much as he hates doing dishes. Now, I do dishes, he does laundry, and we don’t end up eating take-out off paper plates while wearing the cleanest-ish clothes we can find from the bottom of the hamper.

Anyway, it will be interesting to see if the universe gives the brush back.