Sizzle, Crack, Pop! %##**&!!

I'm still here. Just without a damn computer. Apparently the hard drive on our cute little MacBook took a poop and then died. When she died however she took oodles and oodles of my pictures and music. I'm in mourning. Thank God for Flickr. I don't know what I'd do if most of my favorite photos weren't somewhere so safe and sound!

Thursday morning the four of us are taking another mini-vacation. We are spending four days at my family's cottage. I love to go up there. It is tiny and rustic and on a spring fed lake, so the water is beautiful. The best part is that it'll just be us there. I love the fact that I won't have to constantly tell people to "shut the hell up, my kids are napping!"

Hopefully somewhere in there my computer will be useable and I'll have many new pictures and stories to share. If I can't hijack someone's computer before, Happy Fourth Everyone!

Confession #4732

Last night I went grocery shopping. We needed everything. When that happens I sometimes overstock trying to have all sorts of food in the house. Assuming that this summer will be like last and we'll be sending most of our days at the pool, I tried to think of easy things to pack and picnic with. I bought yogurt and blue berries, strawberries and string cheese; you know the healthy, wholesome stuff. At the end of the excursion, something caught my eye. Something preservative laden and frozen. I bought those Uncrustable PB and J's.

We brought them to the pool with us today and they were like little pockets of heaven. They were perfectly soft, both sides lined with peanut butter and oozing with strawberry jelly. Mason scarfed his down and asked for another. My boy who could care less if he missed a meal or three couldn't get enough. I've been baking all our bread for the last three months so we are all used to whole wheat, flax seed, make you poop kind of bread. Honestly, I am not sure if my kids have ever had straight up Wonder Bread. Now they know what they have been missing. They were that good. I'm sticking to my guns though, still haven't broke my "no hot dogs under our roof" rule. I prefer my kids to be flying high on sugar rather than chomping on lips and poopers.

Here. Have a look.

I feel like I haven't had time to do much of anything lately. I 've been hardly even taking pictures! There are a few sweet ones of my baby girl who is barely even a baby anymore. I know I am her mom and biased as hell, but my gosh is she a pretty little thing...

Time Suckage.

Why? Why did I ever sign up for Facebook? I have kids you know. And a house that needs to be maintained. God, between that and Twitter...there aren't enough hours in the day!

I am writing a story for my first love, blogger, that should be up soon!!!

Identity Crisis.

Did you know I just celebrated my third Blog-versary? I did.

I've put a lot out here. I've chronicled the pregnancy and birth of Harper. I've talked about my crazy, newly dysfunctional family. I've had ups and downs. There have been things I've shared that I am so proud of and also things I should probably have never aired. I've met awesome people I hope that I only hope I can meet in real life someday.

And now you think I am going to tell you I am closing up shop.

Never!

Although the summer is my favorite time of year and we bounce all over the place, my posting may be sparse, but I'll still be here. What I am considering is simplifying a bit. From day one I've been "Crunchy with Style" but my address is Glam Granola. On the same wavelength, yes, but for some reason is is all of a sudden bothering me that the two are different. For the past year I've been paying for a domain that I've never used. It was just way to technically challenging for my technology challenged brain. So it's a thing of the past. I've got roots here, yo.

Long story short. Would you still love me if I was just simply Glam Granola? Think of it like a little spring cleaning, or like a cleaning out of your underwear drawer and keeping only the pretty ones. Wait. Forget about the last part, that was my ass talking.

Really, what do you think?

Sometimes it's a blessing to forget.

How did I forget about the two's: The dramatics, not being able to reason or bribe, the tantrums. Oh sweet Jesus, THE TANTRUMS! My kids have both been wicked awesome at throwing them. If there were a contest, they'd be getting ribbons. Mason used to throw himself on the kitchen floor. Always the kitchen floor, which is tile, and throw his head back to make sure there was a nice sounding 'crack'. Then he'd cry harder because damn, that had to hurt! He did that for months. I don't remember how old he was when he stopped but I can tell you how happy I was when they did. Very, very happy.

There back! In full force! Harper screams and fights every single time we put her in her carseat. She screams and arches her back and did I mention the screams? Wow, can she get all eyes on her in one scream flat. I haven't yet seen her throw herself onto the kitchen floor and intentionally crack her head. Oh no, she's into different things. I've seen her grab handfulls of her own hair and yank and even more destructive, bite herself on her arm. Good God, tell me I'm not the only one who has kids that do these sorts of things. Please?

In other news:

I had my second appointment with the Chiropractor. He never got close to my boobs but he did tell me my neck is totally effed. You know how your neck should have a curve to it? It should make a nice gradual letter C. My neck is curving the wrong way (think hunchback). Because it is doing this it is pinching nerves that are making my skin sore. He has a whole slew of things he wants me to do, much of it not covered by any insurance companies. I need to figure out where to draw the line. Today I had an adjustment and although I am suppoosed to feel super sore, I feel better then I've felt in weeks.

Did I tell you that the Dr. I am seeing is an Olympic Chiropractor? This will be the second set of Olympic he will go to the work on the athletes. I feel a little honored. I also think I heard about his Olympic athletes one too many times. All in all? I am pretty happy about the care I am getting.

Adjusting Boobies: One crack at a time.

My body! It is failing me! Promise me you won't think I am a crazy hypochondriac when I tell you this- It is that weird.

Two weeks ago I woke up with a weird crick on the left side of my neck. Those suck, yes? We've all had them but usually by the next morning you feel fine and forgot it ever hurt. Not this time. After this crick had been present for two days I noticed a new soreness down around my shoulder blade. It was getting worse and now I had two sore spots, yay! About 5 days ago, I noticed the skin on my left arm was sore to the touch. A very strange kind of sore, like a localized body ache. Then I noticed It was very uncomfortable to brush my hair, only on the left side of my head. All this happening on the left side of my body. It has become unbearable. If I want to go for a walk, I need to plan accordingly and take 2 Advil 2 hours before, otherwise it is all too painful.

I've decided it is time for me to visit a Chiropractor. I am a little nervous. This person is going to be cracking and popping my spine and neck. I've gone before. I was a freshman in high school and had an important track meet coming up. A few days before, I was in gym class and we were in the gymnastics unit. The overgrown Mary Lou Retton in me decided to bounce into a dive roll. I'm not sure I bounced though. I think it was more of a splat then a crunch and my neck was totally effed. My parents took me to a Chiropractor that went to our church. I think he helped my neck, I don't really remember. What I do remember is how strange I thought it was that he felt my boobs. Now maybe I was over-analyzing but still I told my parents. My dad came with me on my next visit and what do you know, no boob adjustment. Just strange and inappropriate. Thankfully is wasn't young enough to feel traumatized by the quack.

I start Friday. I want to feel good again. I want to start running. I want to not hurt. Dude just better stay away from my boobies.