One hundred pushup challenge

When Carmen wrote about the 100 pushup challenge, I was intrigued.

And then casually mentioned to her that I was thinking of doing it. Which then committed me to doing it.

Real pushups, not girl pushups.

On a good day I can do maybe three real pushups. On a not-so-good day I fall asleep on the floor. I know they’re good for me, but how many pushup people does a family need? My brother is in the Army and can knock out pushups like nobody’s business. I figured I’d just let him do the pushups for the both of us.

Riiiiiiight. Not so much.

I’m starting on the very lowest level, and hoping that doesn’t kill me. So far, so good. Talk to me in a few weeks…I may be typing with my tongue.

And then I’ll lift my van over my head.

Cool stuff review: Redbridge Beer

When I was a wee tot, my grandparents owned a tavern. Whenever we visited them, we went to the tavern. It was the center of my grandparents’ lives. Family and friends and strangers who weren’t friends yet met them there. I learned how to play pool in the back room when I was four or five, I learned how to pour a beer (Gads, don’t ask how old I was, I was pretty young…foam is not your friend and only with Guinness beer is foam your friend), and my cousin taught me to write my name there. I danced with Gram to the jukebox. I remember the funky wet smell of the cooler, Friday night fish-fries, and my Grandpa’s killer tavern chilli (yes, two “L”s in chilli. Illinois chilli has two “L”s–ILL–Illinois).

But. The tavern served, well, it served bad beer. I didn’t realize it was bad beer until I was much older. I just figured I didn’t like beer, an attitude that served me well in college. Then I moved to Colorado, home to microbrews.

Whoa Nellie.

Tom and I would go out with friends after my concerts to a local brewpub for beer and nachos. Suddenly a whole world opened up to me, a world of delicious beer. Beer that didn’t taste like, um, piss water. Beer with a personality, that I wouldn’t mind taking home with me.

And things were good, for a long time. I met all sorts of local microbrews, brought them home, and made friends.

Then sadness reigned in the House of Chaos: I was diagnosed as insensitive to gluten. And the sky crumbled and my tears poured (not really) and the basement mini fridge full of beer, glorious beer, stayed full.

Until this week.

A friend of Tom’s, also gluten-free, said he had heard of a gluten-free beer. Wha’? Isn’t the whole point of beer to have, well, gluten-y things?

I looked into it. And almost wrote it off when I realized I could buy it at the grocery store, for that meant it was 3.2% beer and really, how good could it be? It’s manufactured by Anheuser-Busch and my first reaction to A-B beer is :insert retching sound here:. But hey, I was on my way to the store, what could I lose? If it was good, swell, if it wasn’t…well…I’d find some sort of use for it. Water my tomato plants or something.

So I bought a six-pack of Redbridge beer. And while Tom and I (mostly Tom) assembled a piece of furniture that night, I popped one open.

I took one sip. I took another. And I let out a yelp of joy.

Holy hell, they did it. I don’t know how they did it, but they did it. A gluten-free beer. A gluten-free beer manufactured in partnership with the National Foundation for Celiac Awareness. A gluten-free beer that tastes great. I’m still stunned.

So this Independence Day I’ll be enjoying a cool one with my grilled beast. Happily, with a smile on my face and a song in my heart and a beer in my hand.

That’s (not) hot

I only recognize how miserably hot it is because our hvac system sucks donkey danglies. Furnace dudes claim our air conditioning unit is actually large for our size house, but you’d never know it sitting in here. Tom’s office (on the SW corner of the house) is easily 25 degrees warmer than the rest of the house year-round. When we finished our basement two years ago, the inspector told me she was excited to see how our contractor did the ceiling because we had “the worst laid-out ductwork” she’d ever seen.

So if you’re looking for an anniversary gift for me (this Sunday…12 years!), bring me the brain-dead idiot who designed this nightmare of a duct system with a big ribbon on his head, and I want to look him straight in the eye and I want to tell him what a cheap, lying, no-good, rotten, four-flushing, low-life, snake-licking, dirt-eating, inbred, overstuffed, ignorant, blood-sucking, dog-kissing, brainless, dickless, hopeless, heartless, fat-ass, bug-eyed, stiff-legged, spotty-lipped, worm-headed sack of monkey shit he is. Hallelujah. Holy shit. Where’s the Tylenol?*

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*With love from my favorite holiday movie, National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation.

My sons are conspiring to drive me insane

It’s funny I caught this article this morning. Does having kids make you happy? Before reading it, I was actually thinking to myself, “I wanted to have kids why again?” I do have my moments (um, lots of them actually) when I envy dinks: Double Income No Kids. Those moments usually hit when I’m at my most overwhelmed and overstressed, so I don’t sweat it much. And reading this article today helped. At least I’m not alone in feeling this way.

I also had to be “mean mommy” this evening. I had to follow through on a consequence that I’m sure the boys didn’t think I would. There were tears, there was screaming, there was much rending of garments (not really) and then…then it just stopped. They “got it” (I hope). This is the sucky part of parenting. The fun part of parenting is the hugs and the kisses and just the joy of having little boys. It just often seems that the sucky part of parenting is non-stop and the fun part just comes and goes.

Even a trip to the park yesterday…

squeeeeeeeel…..

We interrupt this wee story with a bit of a rant. Where the hell are all the kids? We live in a very family oriented neighborhood, lots of kids. Can’t wait to meet them and their families this fall when school starts up again. But where are they? I took the boys to the park yesterday and holy heck, was it empty. You could have shot a cannon down the street and not even hit a prairie dog (and I would have cheered if it had). We were about to leave when another mom desperate for an hour of “exhaust the kids before dinner” showed up. Where were all the kids? Carted off to soccer camp? Splashing in the community pool? Abducted by aliens? My bet is either #1, #2, or sprawled out in front of the tv or computer. Sigh…

Now back to the story in progress…

Even a trip to the park yesterday was a trial. The boys were playing great in the basement, we went to the park for some outside “run around and be crazy” time, and immediately my sons’ alter egos (Bully Boy and his younger brother, Victim Child) showed up to play. Sigh…so much for a fun time at the park.

So my sons are wonderful, sweet children…who are trying to drive me just crazy enough to let them get away with murder and not care. They’re almost there.

Done

Thankfully, d.o.n.e.

Only took me two weeks, but I have finished burning my CDs to my computer. Today shot me from 180 days of music to 476.7 days of music. What did it? I burned in the recordings of the Mahlerfest Orchestra concerts I played in. Dang, that Mahler is…well, what’s the musical equivalent of wordy? Note-y? There were only 4 concerts worth, too.

But it’s done, my iPod is synced up and still charging, and I now have all my (favorite) music transportable. I still wish I’d had an iPod in college to make being a music student easier, but I’m sure loving it now.

I’ve gotten a few good recommendations of music and still looking for more. God help me, iTunes store is calling…

The good, the bad, and the uuuugly

The good: A is done with OT. This came out of left field this week. His OT called and said she thought he had progressed to the point that he didn’t need to continue coming this summer. We’ll have a confab this fall, but for now he’s done. Today was his last session. I’m still stunned, but absolutely thrilled. I’m so happy he’s doing so well, but also over the moon that we’re done because we can really use that $300/month for things like gas. And food. And utilities. You know, the disposable income stuff.

The bad: Summer camps for the boys are over. We still have 7 1/2 weeks of summer left.

The uuuugly: We’re about to start tearing Tom’s office apart. His company is completely shutting down next week to start up their new computer system and this gives him the time he needs to completely gut his office, paint (and sweet Jesus, vacuum…you could get lost under the dust in there), assemble the office furniture he is picking up right this very minute, and toss everything that doesn’t fit. I don’t like clutter and even though it’s his office, I’m tossing anything that’s not nailed down. He’s got stuff in there he hasn’t looked at since we moved in almost five years ago.

With all that in mind, I’m still burning CDs…sigh…

More music recommendations! Just, please, no kid music…my ears are bleeding.

Bernstein and Copland and Bach, OH MY!

Oh my hell I have a lot of CDs. I’ve been burning my CD collection into iTunes this week almost non-stop and I’m nowhere close to being finished. If I’m really lucky, they’ll be done tomorrow, but it’s probably going to be Sunday at best.

Jen, really, you can’t have THAT much music!

Heh. You’d think. Let’s check, shall we? iTunes is telling me I have 4317 songs, 20.63GB, and 177.6 DAYS of music. One hundred seventy seven DAYS! DAYS, people! I have so much music on iTunes right now that I could listen all day every day for roughly six months and never repeat. And I’ve barely started the classical CDs.

No more CD purchases. I have to store these damn things after they’re in iTunes. I’ll buy WALL-E this afternoon.

Quick digression…my sons are WALL-E “experts” and it’s driving me insane. the movie has been out for 11 hours and they know everything. Sigh… Yes, we’re going to see it tomorrow, they had to earn it and they did. And then we’re going for sushi. ‘Cause my kids rock.

And back to the music.

Am I over the top when it comes to music? Please, someone, tell me you have more on your iTunes. My poor iPod is going to cry when I sync it after all this. Granted, it’s an 80GB iPod, so there’s plenty of room, but it’s gonna wig out ’cause I’ve never had that much on there.

Oh, and the category I don’t have much of (and will be deleting shortly)? Children’s music. Does.Not.Belong.On.My.iPod. Oh, except for the Johnny Cash Children’s Album. That’s pretty cool.

Still taking music recommendations. ‘Cause I don’t have nearly enough music.

Book review: The Ride of our Lives

Jen. Jen! Enough with the book reviews! Are your children going hungry? Have they bathed since school got out? Have you? Seriously, what’s with the reading?

Beats me, I’m on a roll.

Today’s selection (and this means I have to start a new book, by the way) is The Ride of our LIves by Mike Leonard. You might recognize the name; he’s a correspondent for the Today show, based outside of Chicago. A few years ago he took his parents, three of his kids, and a daughter-in-law on a cross-country RV trip, ending up back in Chicago in time for the birth of his first grandchild. If you watch the Today show, you might remember this trip being featured on the show at the time.

What a sweet book, a tribute to a wacky family. It’s a fun read, an easy read. There were parts that had me laughing until I wheezed. There’s really not a lot I can say other than it’s fun, easy, hysterical, and go read it on the porch with iced tea some afternoon.

Book Review: House Lust

Oh my GOD, Jen! Another book review? What’s going on? Are you ill? Are you on bedrest? Is that how you’re reading all these books? What’s going on?

Har dee har har.

Giving up gluten has blown the brain fog away. I am foggy no more…well, the fog rolls in from time to time, but for the most part it’s pretty sunny around here. Sunny, warm, a gentle pleasant breeze…with a mojito…and silence…

Ack. I digress. But I seem to have more focus and energy and the ability to concentrate. I’ve missed it. And I’ve been reading with this new-found me.

Lately I’ve been taking the boys to the library on Fridays. Since DVD rentals are only a week long, this seems to work for us. They get books and a DVD each and run to the Papasan chairs in the back corners to read. I get to peruse the selections in the New Books area. I like to just pick up random books, flip through them, and either return them to the shelves or drop them in my bag. For whatever reason, I’ve been reading a lot of nonfiction. I have nothing against fiction, I just can’t seem to get into fiction right now. So I hit the new nonfiction books and I’m happy.

House Lust by Daniel McGinn is my most recent book. An interesting concept: it explores “America’s Obsession With Our Homes.” The author traveled the country to explore the real estate boom, how we are truly obsessed with home renovations, vacation homes, and foreclosure. It was published this year, but because of the rapidly changing nature of the housing market right now, many things have changed; I believe this book was written just as the sub-prime loan market was starting to tank, and before housing prices plummeted this spring.

I thought this book was absolutely fascinating. It amazed me that a woman featured in the book had a 9,000 square foot house and heard that 4,000 square feet described as a “mansion.” She didn’t think she lived in mansion, just a large house.

Riiiight.

We live in a newer subdivision, on a golf course. We also have one of the smallest homes in the community. Modest. I see larger homes around us every time I set foot outside my door and it’s difficult to not have House Lust. But I find that decluttering and paint do wonders for that. I do suffer from mild House Lust, but it’s actually getting a cold shower due to the improvements we’re doing on our own house. Amazing what a coat of paint and some new (non-post-collegiate) furniture will do to how you see your house.

The book is an easy read, not everyone’s idea of summer reading, but fascinating nonetheless.

What goes around, comes around…

When I taught flute lessons I had good parents, great parents, and “Oh-for-the-love-of GOD!” parents. The “O-f-t-l-o-G!” parents drove me batshit crazy when they couldn’t keep their schedules straight. These were the kids who were late, got the dates mixed up, or just flat-out forgot to come.

I’m afraid I have become one of those parents.

J has started violin lessons (no, I haven’t blogged about yet, I’m trying to get an “awwwww….” picture first) a couple of weeks ago. He’d been asking for them for 6 months, so even though he’s still two weeks shy of his fourth birthday, he’s taking lessons. His whole body lights up when he gets his violin out of the case.

But I digress.

When we signed up for lessons, I knew there would be 2 Thursdays where he’d be in preschool music camp. And, of course, his lessons were scheduled right over camp. Through a couple of snafus between me, the music school, and the teacher, I totally spaced mentioning it to the teacher until last Wednesday. The day before his second lesson. We couldn’t get that one rescheduled.

And that brings us to today.

Do you think I’ll remember to call the teacher today to reschedule Thursday’s lesson?

Hmm…A was up puking all night (again) and we’re off to the doctor later. I’m a wee bit sleep deprived. I’m taking an adrenal test for my acupuncturist, so I can’t have any caffeine today. And I have many a thing to do today.

I’ll put the odds at YES, I’M GOING TO FORGET to YES I’M GOING TO FORGET.