<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706</id><updated>2011-12-13T22:12:52.034-06:00</updated><category term='delurking'/><category term='meme'/><category term='harper'/><category term='photos'/><category term='`'/><title type='text'>Crunchy with Style!</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>425</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-7841331978883074848</id><published>2011-01-18T21:27:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-01-18T21:32:34.676-06:00</updated><title type='text'>2 weeks</title><content type='html'>Just a quick update.  After 2 weeks I am down 4.8. I feel like this is minimal, but then I think about the single tiny tweak I have agreed to. I am not eating after 7:30pm. That's it.  I won't complain. And maybe next week I'll step away from the sweet potato chips and lose a little more!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-7841331978883074848?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/7841331978883074848/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=7841331978883074848' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/7841331978883074848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/7841331978883074848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2011/01/2-weeks.html' title='2 weeks'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-2986998979254949274</id><published>2011-01-07T08:48:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2011-01-07T09:27:23.459-06:00</updated><title type='text'>This Thing On?</title><content type='html'>Whoa.  It's been almost exactly a year since I've written. I'm feeling inspired by this little thing I am doing, &lt;a href="http://www.shelikespurple.com/shelikespurple/2011/01/biggest-blogging-loser-roster.html"&gt;Biggest Blogging Loser&lt;/a&gt;.  See, I have 12 weeks to lose some poundage and get svelte again. My goal? 20 pounds. It can and will be done. &lt;br /&gt; After I had Harper 4 years ago, I lost a lot.  I was ready, I was nursing 186 times a day , and it was easy. But I have gained a lot of it back.  Not all, but a lot. This time I'm doing things a little differently and I am confident it'll work. I know my problem time for bingeing. It is specifically from 7:30-10pm.  I go from one snacky thing to another until I'm certain I've consumed enough calories for an entire meal.  Then what do I do? I go to bed. The perfect recipe for growing a large ass.&lt;br /&gt; Despite running for the last 2.5 years, my eating has just been so mindless and I've used the excuse "I ran today, I can eat whatever."  Not so.  Running 3 miles a few times a week doesn't take the place of eating like a heifer. &lt;br /&gt;So here is my plan.  I am watching what I eat from morning until dinner.  I am eating things like plain oatmeal with blueberries and a dollop of vanilla yogurt on top, for breakfast. For lunch, a turkey sandwich, without cheese, and a cup of vegetable soup.  Snacks, I am really trying to resist.  But, If I am hungry, I'll count out 10 almonds and a banana.  Or have a string cheese. For dinner, I'm not changing a thing.  I cook for my family and typically we eat really well so I'm not messing with it.  Last night we had a Greek Salad, marinated and grilled chicken breast with roasted veggies and garlic Parmesan couscous. So my biggest commitment is that after 7;30pm, I don't eat. Not a single morsel of food will cross my lips.  I can do this.  It bugs me that I even have to think so much about it - I have a degree it this stuff for crissakes.&lt;br /&gt;  I weigh-in on monday and I'm not getting on the scale until then. Hopefully my plan will work. Wish me luck!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-2986998979254949274?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/2986998979254949274/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=2986998979254949274' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/2986998979254949274'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/2986998979254949274'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2011/01/this-thing-on.html' title='This Thing On?'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-3765927573135067211</id><published>2010-01-12T16:01:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-12T16:21:54.670-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Out with the Old</title><content type='html'>Whew! &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;After, the whirlwind that was Christmas, I couldn't wait to start the new year. Well guess what?  Things haven't slowed down yet.  I'm trying to get my bearings-and that may take a while-but I wanted to tell you about some of my ideas for 2010. Call them resolutions if you'd like but I feel too much pressure that way. So here they are...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;My Ideas for 2010&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*to take a tropical family vacation &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*to create a business name and become a little more structured with the business I am currently doing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*nearly eliminate crap sugars (refined sugar). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*to continue running at least 3x per week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully by having just a few I can stay focused on them.  So what are your ideas?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-3765927573135067211?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/3765927573135067211/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=3765927573135067211' title='24 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/3765927573135067211'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/3765927573135067211'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2010/01/out-with-old.html' title='Out with the Old'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><thr:total>24</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-5647681582689963398</id><published>2009-12-16T20:24:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-16T20:57:12.684-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Woah Mom Guilt.</title><content type='html'>I think I am a confident person.  If there is one thing that can shake it, it's this whole parenting thing.  Tomorrow my sweet boy turns 6.  Again, I am scrambling for someway for him to feel special.  This time of year it's impossible for me to muster up some sort of party.  I can't add one more thing to my laundry list. Who pays the price? My little boy, the one who I want to give the world to.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So for tomorrow, he requested peanut butter cookies for his school treat.  They are ready to go.  We'll have a special dinner and open a few presents. I hope it's enough. If he can feel even a portion of how much he means to me, It'll be enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/Symdkb8jr_I/AAAAAAAAAKs/C2upNQxmdJw/s1600-h/IMG_3267.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/Symdkb8jr_I/AAAAAAAAAKs/C2upNQxmdJw/s320/IMG_3267.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416033276192337906" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-5647681582689963398?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/5647681582689963398/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=5647681582689963398' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/5647681582689963398'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/5647681582689963398'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2009/12/woah-mom-guilt.html' title='Woah Mom Guilt.'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/Symdkb8jr_I/AAAAAAAAAKs/C2upNQxmdJw/s72-c/IMG_3267.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-85542136604829548</id><published>2009-12-06T21:55:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-10T21:31:23.920-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Me and My Guitar</title><content type='html'>Last Tuesday was my birthday. &lt;br /&gt;I turned 32.&lt;br /&gt;Woah.&lt;br /&gt;My parents forgot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was also supposed to be my first guitar lesson but I cancelled so I could go out for Mexican food and Margaritas with my husband and kids. It was a great day.  I resceduled my first lesson for Wednesday. I was excited all day for it.  Mike bought me a guitar two anniversaries ago and even though I was eager to learn, I could never come up with the time to do it.  I found the time now and I am doing it! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SyG7OTWAYRI/AAAAAAAAAKc/0Rdvqg78gQY/s1600-h/GetAttachment.aspx.jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 272px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SyG7OTWAYRI/AAAAAAAAAKc/0Rdvqg78gQY/s320/GetAttachment.aspx.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413814081461182738" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I walked in to meet my instructor and I was both relieved and dissapointed that he wasn't a twenty-something, hot musical genius who smelled a little like patchouli. Instead, he was a very patient 50 something man that knows how to play a guitar.  I've been practicing a few minutes each day and I think I like it.  I think I like it, a lot. Me and my pretty girl. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SyG7_pfQb8I/AAAAAAAAAKk/_faXkTBlPLw/s1600-h/GetAttachment.aspx.jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 272px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SyG7_pfQb8I/AAAAAAAAAKk/_faXkTBlPLw/s320/GetAttachment.aspx.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413814929219153858" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's totally a girl, don't you think?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-85542136604829548?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/85542136604829548/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=85542136604829548' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/85542136604829548'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/85542136604829548'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2009/12/me-and-my-guitar.html' title='Me and My Guitar'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SyG7OTWAYRI/AAAAAAAAAKc/0Rdvqg78gQY/s72-c/GetAttachment.aspx.jpg.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-3239670187524582988</id><published>2009-11-23T15:59:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-23T15:56:16.581-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The GG Famly Update.</title><content type='html'>My Boy. He's getting so old and independent.  He's handsome and the sweetest, biggest hearted boy I've ever known. The person he's turning into makes me so proud to say that I spent every minute raising him until he was four. So very proud.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/Swdh74tZNCI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/6lBlTzTqcV8/s1600/IMG_3335.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/Swdh74tZNCI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/6lBlTzTqcV8/s320/IMG_3335.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406397559144526882" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Girl. She's not quite as shy anymore.  She's in love with her Grandpa, my dad. She's feisty and knows what she wants. She gets prettier every single day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/Swdh7lyjtxI/AAAAAAAAAJs/SxxeeguTvmc/s1600/IMG_3327.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/Swdh7lyjtxI/AAAAAAAAAJs/SxxeeguTvmc/s320/IMG_3327.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406397554065913618" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somedays I can't believe that she's my baby.  My little girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/Swdh7JKurcI/AAAAAAAAAJk/3AyUPxhpENA/s1600/IMG_3319.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 224px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/Swdh7JKurcI/AAAAAAAAAJk/3AyUPxhpENA/s320/IMG_3319.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406397546382667202" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Together they are like wind and fire.  They need each other.  They annoy each other. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/Swdh8m3Q8qI/AAAAAAAAAKE/HcrrpF_0YIM/s1600/IMG_3328.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/Swdh8m3Q8qI/AAAAAAAAAKE/HcrrpF_0YIM/s320/IMG_3328.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406397571533959842" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They love each other.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SwsAdcLGFTI/AAAAAAAAAKM/Vf-6XvnIj7c/s1600/IMG_3348.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SwsAdcLGFTI/AAAAAAAAAKM/Vf-6XvnIj7c/s320/IMG_3348.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407416283367347506" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm thankful they are mine.&lt;br /&gt;I love them, more than ever.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-3239670187524582988?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/3239670187524582988/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=3239670187524582988' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/3239670187524582988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/3239670187524582988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2009/11/gg-famly-update.html' title='The GG Famly Update.'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/Swdh74tZNCI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/6lBlTzTqcV8/s72-c/IMG_3335.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-1120763012397905818</id><published>2009-11-18T09:47:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-18T20:41:30.712-06:00</updated><title type='text'>All I want for Christmas is my two front teeth.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SwRpFZBkPoI/AAAAAAAAAJc/TsY3Msczl9w/s1600/6448_1198958776575_1306703882_551407_584325_n.jpg.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SwRpFZBkPoI/AAAAAAAAAJc/TsY3Msczl9w/s320/6448_1198958776575_1306703882_551407_584325_n.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405560994089156226" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Without a doubt, the one physical attribute that gets the most attention on me are my teeth.  I have huge, relatively white, straight teeth.  Oh my god you guys, what you don't know...my mouth is a big hot mess.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I am about to tell you will probably make you run directly to your dentist.  I've always taken pretty good care of my teeth.  I brush twice a day, floss a few times a week.  I had braces when I was in grade school and would go to the dentist when my mom would take me. I actually liked going and having my teeth gleam when I left. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Around my sophomore year in high school, I remember my dentist starting to comment on my gums and how they were receding.  They began watching them, closely. The next few years they talked about surgery on my gums. I just kept saying that they weren't that bad, that I could wait another year.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Somewhere in there, I went on a spring break trip to Miami Beach to visit my favorite cousin.  While we were there he told us that he had just had gum surgery. He hadn't been able to eat much besides super soft foods. His mouth was starting to feel somewhat healed and he was ready to eat!  He took us to one of his favorite Italian restaurants and we started with bread.  Crusty, delicious, Italian bread.  He was being so careful.  And then he wasn't.  He told us that his stiches had opened. I promptly stood up, walked myself to the restroom, and passed out.  On the bathroom floor. Out.  My imagination had gone wild and I could just picture what was going on in his mout. Blood. Pain. Gross. But also, I knew I had the same thing in store. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to the dentist a few more times, each time with more anxiety about what I'd hear. Then, I stopped. Straight up, just didn't go anymore.&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;I moved to Florida and didn't want to search out a good dentist. &lt;br /&gt;I got pregnant.&lt;br /&gt;I was busy with a toddler. &lt;br /&gt;I got pregnant again.  &lt;br /&gt;I had two kids at home.  &lt;br /&gt;I was too busy taking my kids to their dental appointments.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had all the excuses. I have run out of excuses.  It's been 7 years since I've been and I 'd like to keep the teeth that are currently living in my mouth. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow I'm starting over.  I am seeing a new dentist and I'm ready to face the music. I'll do whatever I need to do- It just better not entail dentures that click when I chew.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-1120763012397905818?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/1120763012397905818/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=1120763012397905818' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/1120763012397905818'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/1120763012397905818'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2009/11/all-i-want-for-christmas-is-my-two.html' title='All I want for Christmas is my two front teeth.'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SwRpFZBkPoI/AAAAAAAAAJc/TsY3Msczl9w/s72-c/6448_1198958776575_1306703882_551407_584325_n.jpg.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-6928013957820872999</id><published>2009-11-17T21:40:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-17T22:03:45.487-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Baaaa-aack!</title><content type='html'>Hi there. How are you?  Your hair looks pretty today. Is that shirt new-- It makes your boobs look really perky. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've missed this, so damn much.  I took off when my family found out about my blog and started reading.  I tried to keep writing every now and then but I found myself censoring like crazy.  And me and censoring, we're like oil and water.  It became a chore rather than an outlet. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that time has past, I'm hoping that most of them have lost interest and I can write about what's been going on in my little world. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've got stories.  I've got pictures.  I've got plans!  Are you ready?  Things could get crazy up in here...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-6928013957820872999?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/6928013957820872999/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=6928013957820872999' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/6928013957820872999'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/6928013957820872999'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2009/11/im-baaaa-aack.html' title='I&apos;m Baaaa-aack!'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-4756630215912846041</id><published>2009-04-14T11:06:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-14T11:38:41.056-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Purple, Violet, Lavender</title><content type='html'>Today is a purple sort of day at our house.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SeS4v5eI_oI/AAAAAAAAAJU/gfqvHZ09yEU/s1600-h/Photo+4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SeS4v5eI_oI/AAAAAAAAAJU/gfqvHZ09yEU/s320/Photo+4.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324583792479370882" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are remembering  a sweet little girl who was born a little too early and left a lot too early.  We are thinking of the S&lt;a href="http://remembermaddie.com/"&gt;pohr family&lt;/a&gt; today and wishing them strength and peace. We are there in spirit!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-4756630215912846041?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/4756630215912846041/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=4756630215912846041' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/4756630215912846041'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/4756630215912846041'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2009/04/purple-violet-lavender.html' title='Purple, Violet, Lavender'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SeS4v5eI_oI/AAAAAAAAAJU/gfqvHZ09yEU/s72-c/Photo+4.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-1760586692883865319</id><published>2009-01-19T09:04:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T09:24:01.039-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Special Report</title><content type='html'>Let's face it, I am a Martha wannabe.  I cook.  I bake (thus leading to my ass problem). I need to throw myself into a project every once in a while.  &lt;br /&gt;Sometimes my projects don't get finished.  Like the one time I had a rummage sale and decided that I had to sell my dining room pictures and do something new and fresh.  I sold them for 5 dollars each.  The wall is so damn bare, 2 years later, not so much as a shadow on it- Except for the two screws sticking out that remind me everyday of my project failure.  &lt;br /&gt;Sometimes though, my projects turn out!  And sometimes they turn out so well that I exhume my buried blog to show you!  I am not sure how I got the idea. I just know that I was dropping off boxes of things at Goodwill to declutter my home and the next thing I know, I am driving home with two sticky, gross chairs knowing that I wanted them to be pretty again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I paid 5.99 for each chair.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/94491145@N00/3208781060/" title="dining chair redo by glamgranola, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3113/3208781060_1c1a391d12.jpg" width="500" height="333" alt="dining chair redo" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They were barely worth that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/94491145@N00/3208777576/" title="dining chair redo by glamgranola, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3367/3208777576_f34cdce4cb.jpg" width="500" height="333" alt="dining chair redo" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stripped them down, sanded them and tried to make them pretty again... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I think it worked!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/94491145@N00/3208782422/" title="dining chair redo by glamgranola, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3522/3208782422_b5c8d79462.jpg" width="500" height="333" alt="dining chair redo" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you look closely, they are by no means perfect.  But they make me happy. I made something so very old and dingy look bright and fun again!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/94491145@N00/3208786194/" title="dining chair redo by glamgranola, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3322/3208786194_8de8413068.jpg" width="333" height="500" alt="dining chair redo" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now if I could just keep my kids and their sticky little fingers off of them... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/94491145@N00/3208783418/" title="dining chair redo by glamgranola, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3091/3208783418_7a91c04786.jpg" width="333" height="500" alt="dining chair redo" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-1760586692883865319?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/1760586692883865319/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=1760586692883865319' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/1760586692883865319'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/1760586692883865319'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2009/01/special-report.html' title='Special Report'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3113/3208781060_1c1a391d12_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-7931302536657056370</id><published>2008-10-29T13:58:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-29T14:03:23.204-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Adios.</title><content type='html'>It's time.  After over three years I am closing up shop.  I have my reasons and I am sad to let my one true outlet go. The one thing I do for me and no one else.  I am thankful that I met so many amazing people; many that I consider real friends.  I'll miss you guys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ann&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-7931302536657056370?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/7931302536657056370/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=7931302536657056370' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/7931302536657056370'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/7931302536657056370'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2008/10/adios.html' title='Adios.'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-8953483372718406697</id><published>2008-10-14T14:28:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-15T13:52:40.441-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Mind of Crazy</title><content type='html'>Why didn't I remember how totally bonkers the second year is?  I swear your mind does something to make you forget, ON PURPOSE.  The screaming. The tantrums.  The hair pulling.  Should I go on?  The biting.  The spitting.  Wait?  Have I mentioned the spitting before?  The spitting is so lovely, especially when it is done in public to show her dissaproval with the current situation.  Mason is nearing 5 and still cannot figure out how to spit his toothpaste so Harpers spitting was one thing she learned all by herself!  Whee!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning she wanted me to put her shoes on.  I put them both on and tied the left on like she wanted.  I moved over to the right one and tied it when all hell broke loose.  I should have known.  Why didn't I know that I should've only tied one shoe?  The screaming and crying went on for a good 10 minutes until I offered her a bite of my LIFE.  Cereal.  But it is ironic isn't it?  That she just wanted a bite of my LIFE!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thankfully though, she is incredibly funny. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/94491145@N00/2932684574/" title="IMG_1510 by glamgranola, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3170/2932684574_717ce2faff.jpg" width="333" height="500" alt="IMG_1510" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; She loves to dance, she prefers Dance or Techno.  The Hell?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She tells me to stop singing all the time.  But also asks me to "sing Nacho", her favorite song from Nacho Libre.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I try not to gush, but The Girl is beautiful.  Sometimes I just stare at her in awe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/94491145@N00/2932682888/" title="IMG_1508 by glamgranola, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3166/2932682888_cbe82fe944.jpg" width="333" height="500" alt="IMG_1508" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the dimples?  We have no idea where those came from, but when she smiles, I forget about all those &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;other things&lt;/span&gt;.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/94491145@N00/2945243058/" title="Harps B&amp;amp;W by glamgranola, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3163/2945243058_74bca5fd0b.jpg" width="333" height="500" alt="Harps B&amp;amp;W" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, except the spitting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-8953483372718406697?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/8953483372718406697/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=8953483372718406697' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/8953483372718406697'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/8953483372718406697'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2008/10/mind-of-crazy.html' title='The Mind of Crazy'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3170/2932684574_717ce2faff_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-1688847906460461008</id><published>2008-10-12T15:13:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-14T14:26:23.737-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Let's Move on Now!</title><content type='html'>Wow, glad that is over.  Now I can move on to something a little less nauseating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mike and I finished our third week of running.  All is still going well except for raging shin splints.  I've been icing when we get home and on days when I feel like I might cry from the pain I take a few Ibuprofen.  Is there anything else I should be doing?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been cooking up a storm lately too.  Since it has been getting colder I've gone back to making a huge vat of soup each week.  First I made a Roasted Butternut Squash soup that was so fantastic!  Of course we gobbled it down in two days. I tried to make it again and it tasted like ass.  That's what I get for not taking recipes seriously! The first time, the time it was phenomenal, I took photos while I made it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/94491145@N00/2934988809/" title="Roasting Veggies by glamgranola, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3049/2934988809_072923b410_m.jpg" width="240" height="160" alt="Roasting Veggies" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a baking sheet I cut up a huge carrot, a Butternut squash, an onion and an apple.  I drizzled them all with olive oil, salt and pepper and a tiny bit of nutmeg and baked at 425 for around 45 minutes.  Really I am not even sure about the time I just kept checking with a fork to see if it was mushie.  Because mushie means done for this stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I got to that stage, I threw everything into a blender and added chicken stock.  I then moved everything back into a big stock pot and noticed it still needed more stock so I added more with a few pats of butter.  It was smooth and velvety and my kids couldn't get enough!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/94491145@N00/2935846106/" title="Butternut Squash Soup by glamgranola, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3202/2935846106_828204223c_m.jpg" width="240" height="160" alt="Butternut Squash Soup" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You really should try this stuff if you can handle squash at all.  It warms your insides and screams fall!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/94491145@N00/2934991839/" title="IMG_1453 by glamgranola, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3197/2934991839_956d214ea9_m.jpg" width="240" height="160" alt="IMG_1453" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How's that for a change of topic?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-1688847906460461008?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/1688847906460461008/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=1688847906460461008' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/1688847906460461008'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/1688847906460461008'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2008/10/lets-move-on-now.html' title='Let&apos;s Move on Now!'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3049/2934988809_072923b410_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-2294879376451069873</id><published>2008-10-08T20:19:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-09T11:49:45.462-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Day I lost...let's hope this is the end!</title><content type='html'>My cell phone was ringing and it was her.  I couldn't answer.  I was still furious and had nothing to say to someone who had just accused me of lying.  I waited a few seconds and there was a message.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt; My God do I wish I was more technically saavy because I still have the message and wouldn't it be fun to hear it?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TQ:  Ann, I talked to Drake and he said he did go inside your house...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Well, no shit Sherlock.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...I don't know why he would make such a stupid, stupid choice?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;um, because he is a 4 year old boy and 4 year old boys aren't always known for making superior choices!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...but you coming over hear to scream and swear at me was not the right way to handle it either!  !!SLAM!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What!?  She still doesn't get it!  So I called her right back. (take the high road Ann, you already went Ape on her.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GG:  Hi, Whoreen? (whoops)  you are right.  I should've never yelled and sworn, that really isn't my style.  BUT, if you remember, I came over to tell you something that I thought you, as a mother, should know that your son did.  I didn't ever plan on getting so angry but you implying that what I said was untrue was very insulting.  But you are right, I didn't handle it the way I would've liked to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TQ:  I was just so shocked that Drake would just go into your house...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So really? Let's be honest.  I over-reacted.  I had taken too many insulting jabs over the past several months and boiled over.  It wasn't pretty, but really it was for the best. Our interaction now is kept to bare minimum.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have no respect for her lifestyle.  In fact, I find it disgusting.  She gives us &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;real&lt;/span&gt; stay at home moms a bad name.  This weekend when her son was with his dad, TQ had her "flavor of the week" over for 2 nights, he left for a couple of hours and another guy came over and took her out to dinner.  The next morning I woke op early with my kids and "The Flavor" was back and had spent the night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have done enough.  I hate the nasty person she brings out of me.  Karma keeps me sane, she'll get hers at some point...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-2294879376451069873?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/2294879376451069873/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=2294879376451069873' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/2294879376451069873'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/2294879376451069873'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2008/10/day-i-lostlets-hope-this-is-end.html' title='The Day I lost...let&apos;s hope this is the end!'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-8306746432922609379</id><published>2008-10-01T15:51:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-01T16:11:23.738-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Wow!  and also Sorry!</title><content type='html'>I know.  I also think it is totally tacky when bloggers apologize for not blogging but I know that there are a handful of you that really want to hear the end of the &lt;a href="http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2008/09/day-i-lost-my-shit.html"&gt;Neighb-whore Story&lt;/a&gt;.  I promise I will finish. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought that once Mason started school I'd have some extra time, hahahahahah.  Now I just run, all over town, constantly.  Then I run home to get Harper down for a nap, then the sitter comes over and I run back to pick up Mason.  It is Chaos I tell you!  Total Chaos.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of running all over.  Pedro and I started running!  We run three days a week, with the kids in a jogging stroller.  We are in our second week and neither of us is showing any signs of premature petering out!  We are going to run a 5K on Thanksgiving, which means Thanksgiving this year we'll finally be doing something that we want to do, together!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now here, take a look!  Because I've been totally absent I leave you with the most unflattering picture ever!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SOPmO96AtGI/AAAAAAAAAGk/BQjBZWMhTy8/s1600-h/IMG_1430.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SOPmO96AtGI/AAAAAAAAAGk/BQjBZWMhTy8/s320/IMG_1430.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252294735254565986" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your welcome.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-8306746432922609379?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/8306746432922609379/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=8306746432922609379' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/8306746432922609379'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/8306746432922609379'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2008/10/wow-and-also-sorry.html' title='Wow!  and also Sorry!'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SOPmO96AtGI/AAAAAAAAAGk/BQjBZWMhTy8/s72-c/IMG_1430.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-5537270903678375779</id><published>2008-09-24T16:15:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-24T21:37:07.028-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sweet like sugar.</title><content type='html'>Harper had her second birthday on Sunday!  &lt;br /&gt;Oh wow is this little girl strong willed, but we're keeping her.  &lt;br /&gt;We love her like crazy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.onetruemedia.com/share_view_player?p=7007672bb83b887b8683f2" quality="high" scale="noscale" width="408" height="382" wmode="transparent" name="FLVPlayer" salign="LT" flashvars="&amp;p=7007672bb83b887b8683f2&amp;skin_id=701&amp;host=http://www.onetruemedia.com" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div style="margin:0px;font:12px/13px verdana,arial,sans-serif;line-height:20px;padding-bottom:15px;width:408px;text-align:center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.onetruemedia.com/share_player_link?p=7007672bb83b887b8683f2&amp;skin_id=701&amp;source=emplay" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.onetruemedia.com/share_player_link_image/7007672bb83b887b8683f2/701.gif" style="border:0px;" width="408" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.onetruemedia.com/landing?&amp;utm_source=emplay&amp;utm_medium=txt1" target="_blank" style="text-decoration:none;"&gt;Make an on-line slide show at &lt;span style="text-decoration:underline;"&gt;www.OneTrueMedia.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-5537270903678375779?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/5537270903678375779/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=5537270903678375779' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/5537270903678375779'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/5537270903678375779'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2008/09/sweet-like-sugar.html' title='Sweet like sugar.'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-6751361568729412699</id><published>2008-09-16T14:12:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-16T21:31:44.360-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The day I lost my shit- Part 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;I should first warn you...I really should've written a G version and an R version.  The real life version probably registered at a triple R.  There was no verbal censor.  So make a mental note, Whenever you read the word effing, fricking,freaking, f*cking or anything of the sort, feel free to insert the actual word of FUCKING that flowed from my mouth as freely as a tree swaying in the breeze. You've been warned.  &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Virgin ears and eyes proceed with caution...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had calmed down and decided to walk over to let TQ know what had just happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;knock, knock, knock&lt;/span&gt; "TQ, I just wanted to let you know what just happened.  I was upstairs putting Harper down for a nap when Drake came upstairs, knocked and came into her bedroom..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TQ:  "No he didn't, I was sitting out back, watching them the whole time!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;I think my head spun around 3 or 4 times and right then steam shop out of my ears. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GG: "Are you effing kidding me?  Are you telling me I am making this whole freaking thing up?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TQ: "First of all don't swear at me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GG: "How can I not swear.  You are calling me a fricking liar! Don't you think I have better things to do with myself than make               up a freaking story about your son coming into my house and waking my daughter up?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Her request?  DENIED.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TQ: "I am telling you that I was back there watching him...I am in disbelief."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GG: "Obviously you weren't because your son came into my damn house and clearly you didn't know...&lt;br /&gt;        Why do you need to argue everything TQ.  It's what you do, you argue.  My God, is that annoying"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TQ: "Look at you you're hysterical right now...I am in disbelief."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GG: "Well believe it!  NEWSFLASH TQ!  Your son does do things wrong just like every other kid I have ever met.  I just thought I    should let you know but clearly you don't believe me. " &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TQ: "Drake, Drake!  Drake get in here now! "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I stormed off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I really wanted to say at this point was, 'really? you've been out watching them the entire time? Because I am standing in your doorway now and um, where is your son...you stupid beotch!'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was on fire!  I went over to let her know about something her son had done that I thought she might want to talk to him about.  It was something that I would absolutely want to know about if my son did.  But she didn't believe me.  I am many things but one thing that I am not is a liar.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I came in my house and Mike came in to get the story since all he could see from on top of the roof was my arms flailing.  As I told him what had happened I began to feel sorry.  I was not at all sorry for what I said, but for the way I acted.  I acted like she does.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just then, the phone rang.  It was her...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-6751361568729412699?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/6751361568729412699/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=6751361568729412699' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/6751361568729412699'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/6751361568729412699'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2008/09/day-i-lost-my-shit-part-2.html' title='The day I lost my shit- Part 2'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-1069938036513736332</id><published>2008-09-15T20:57:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-15T21:33:07.960-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The day I lost my shit.</title><content type='html'>Who-ee!  Wy life has been one big ball of chaos lately.  I have to admit, cable got re-hooked up last Tuesday but I've been up to my eyeballs trying to catch-up.  Ha ha ha hahahaah, I know shouldn't I know by now that really there is no such thing as "catching-up". Moron.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I need to tell you what I know you've been waiting for.  I went off you guys.  I totally lost is on her. Deep down I think I was just waiting for it to happen and oo-boy, did it ever.  If you need to catch up on the past, you can start &lt;a href="http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2008/04/love-thy-neighbor.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; and then go&lt;a href="http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2008/08/love-thy-neighbor-pt-2-but-really-436.html"&gt; here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mike had been putting a new roof on our house which is a loud, messy, totally huge home improvement.  It just really sucks.  My job was keeping the kids out of his way.  I think we were either on day 2 or 3 of the process.  Mason does great playing by himself with the neighbors so he was easy.  Harper was becoming more irritated and grouchy by the day.  She was needing a nap, in her own bed in the worst way and I decided despite the banging I would try.  Mason was in our backyard playing with my cousins son and Drake, The Queens son.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took Harper upstairs to her bedroom and set up three fans in and also outside of her bedroom door for white noise.  It took a while but after about 15 minutes of nursing her, my little girl drifted off to sleep.  No more than 2 minutes later there was a knock on Harpers bedroom door, and the door opened...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ah Ann.  I need some water."&lt;br /&gt;"Ah Drake, why are you in my house?  You need to go home and ask your mom for water.  I am putting Harper to bed."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now Harper is awake. Freaking awesome.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told Drake he needed to go home, and that he really should never come in my (muchless upstairs and in the bedrooms) house without being asked to come in.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was pissed.  I got Harper back to sleep after another 10 minutes and calmed myself down.   I considered that it was something Mason could have but I would absolutely want to know about it. I knew I needed to tell TQ but I had no idea her reaction would be so rediculous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(so much more to come, Tuesday.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-1069938036513736332?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/1069938036513736332/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=1069938036513736332' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/1069938036513736332'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/1069938036513736332'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2008/09/day-i-lost-my-shit.html' title='The day I lost my shit.'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-4719853274276748008</id><published>2008-09-06T16:32:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-06T16:37:20.498-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Amish Jealousy-Because I am sure they have more technology than me.</title><content type='html'>Dude.  Right now I am sitting in a Hotel parking lot stealing WI-Fi.  I'm totally classy like that.  I am not sure when I'll be back but I've got so much to tell you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; For example.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Mason's first day of school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The day I went ape-shit on my lovely neighbor!  Oh yes I did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stay tuned!  I promise this isn't the last of me...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-4719853274276748008?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/4719853274276748008/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=4719853274276748008' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/4719853274276748008'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/4719853274276748008'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2008/09/amish-jealousy-because-i-am-sure-they.html' title='Amish Jealousy-Because I am sure they have more technology than me.'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-5390814932265158729</id><published>2008-08-28T14:19:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-28T19:22:57.981-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Heartbreak.</title><content type='html'>Last night was Mason's Montessori open house.  I was certain that it would also change is feelings about starting school.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the past 2 months the talk of starting school has changed from excitedly talking about it, to becoming a reality.  A reality that Mason wants no part of.  Mike and I have been giving our best sales pitches for the majority of summer to no avail.  He just wants to "stay at home like his neighbor girlfriend a few houses up the street.  Her mom stays home and teaches her at home, so why can't I."  If it were that simple, I'd home school in a second.  The problem is I am not sure if that's the right choice either?  If only I knew what the right choice was...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the open house, Mason quickly started exploring all the little cubbies filled with different learning areas.  I watched him in awe.   I don't think it'll ever get old or cliche to me that "Oh my God!  I made that little person and just look at him!"  Mike started to say something to me and I had to just tell him to stop.  I had to concentrate on not crying I couldn't talk or listen or anything.  I just didn't want to cry in front of everyone.  He tried to touch my back in an  "it's okay" kind of way. I quickly moved out of the way because "seriously, don't."  Thankfully he knew I wasn't being cold or mean, I was doing what I had to do to be strong and not let Mason see me cry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We left after the informational speech and Mason told us again that he didn't want to go back.  Again, we told him about all the things he's going to get to do this year and all the new friends he'll meet. I don't think he is buying it.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday is the day.  The day I drop my first baby off at school.  From now until then I am trying to figure out how to be strong for him.  How I am going to resist scooping him up and bringing him home with me when he tells me for the 80th time that he just wants to stay with me.  Right now, I can't even think about it without crying.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-5390814932265158729?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/5390814932265158729/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=5390814932265158729' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/5390814932265158729'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/5390814932265158729'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2008/08/heartbreak.html' title='Heartbreak.'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-1567123195007238696</id><published>2008-08-19T15:31:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-19T16:05:44.960-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Love Thy Neighbor pt. 2 (but really 436)</title><content type='html'>Remember back in April when I wrote about my &lt;a href="http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2008/04/love-thy-neighbor.html"&gt;lovely neighbor&lt;/a&gt;?  You know, the one you all agreed I should drop kick with a pointy boot? Well I thought you may be wanting an update, yes?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hahahahahahha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She is &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;such&lt;/span&gt; a bitch.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hahahahahah. (All while smiling.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How was that?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the most part I've managed to keep my distance as much as a person can keep from a next door neighbor.  I don't invite her over.  I don't do anything with her.  All conversations are kept relatively generic.  Yesterday, for some stupid reason I was feeling like I wanted to go out of my way to be nice to her.  Why?  WHY?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mike got home from work and we were grilling our dinner on the deck.  I went up to him and said, "Should we be super nice and offer &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Her&lt;/span&gt; a glass of wine since she is sitting in her backyard?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mike must have known it was a stupid suggestion because he replied, "Why?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told him I was feeling like I wanted to do something nice for her. Just because.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We'll call her The Queen (TQ). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me:  The Queen!  Would you like a glass of wine? We are opening a bottle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TQ:  Oh!  What kind is it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me:  It is red.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TQ:     **crickets**&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Menage 'a Trois.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TQ:  Um, I'll pass. Thanks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First of all she knew I was talking about the wine and not inviting her over for a threesome.  She has had the wine before, it just isn't good enough for her snobbish pallet.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I am a self-declared coffee snob but if someone offered me a cup of coffee just to be nice you can bet that, I wouldn't ask them what brand it was.  I would accept and I would drink it even if it was Folgers!  I may not enjoy it fully, but I would enjoy it because it was &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;kind&lt;/span&gt; for that person to go out of their way to offer me a cup of coffee.  Period. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I guess I should be glad I didn't offer her the box of white wine that I have in the fridge.  Or maybe I should!  I should tell her that it is some vintage $100 a bottle stuff and see what her distinguished pallet tells her about it!  Oooo, that would be so fun!  Phony Snob! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Should I do it?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-1567123195007238696?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/1567123195007238696/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=1567123195007238696' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/1567123195007238696'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/1567123195007238696'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2008/08/love-thy-neighbor-pt-2-but-really-436.html' title='Love Thy Neighbor pt. 2 (but really 436)'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-7428146537637710016</id><published>2008-08-07T20:37:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-07T21:33:55.942-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Beat this one. . .I dare you!</title><content type='html'>How do you make a crappy day turn shitty?  Let me tell you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I put the kids down at nearly the same time everyday.  Some times Mason sleeps these days, sometimes he doesn't.  He still must have some sort of quiet time in his room.  I tucked Mason in his bed and went on to Harper's room where everyday we sit in the same rocking chair, she nurses and then off she drifts to sleep and into her crib she goes.  I have to say, I 've been really lucky with how easy she has been to get to sleep.  Most days she asks to go up to bed, I know, &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;super&lt;/span&gt; lucky.  Mason was never like that.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well today, it started out totally normal.  I tucked Mason in, went to Harper's room, she passed out within 5 minutes and I snuck out.  As I was closing the door, I saw Mason in the playroom with the TV on. . .Totally not allowed during quiet time.  I told him he needed to go to his room and if he chose not to he'd stay inside for the rest of the day while his friends played outside.  Mason through a huge fit complete with screaming that of course prompted Harper's screaming.  Awesome!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mason went back to his room and quieted down within 5 minutes, fast asleep.  Harper was so hysterical that I went back in and rubbed her back until she calmed down.  I snuck out again.  I came down stairs and heard her talking and babbling and yelling.  I went back up.  "Harper, lay DOWN!"  She lays down and I walk out.  I get back down stairs and hear all the same stuff again.  This time complete with "yay DOWN!"  I go back up.  Wash, Rinse, Repeat until 4 pm.  Mason is now outside playing with neighbors.  I decided it would be her first time going without any sort of nap.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I run upstairs and grab her from her crib at the same time my nose is assaulted!  Bam!  Eau de Poop!  I notice her bottom half totally undressed and there is shit everywhere.  You might be asking, Really?  Everywhere?  My friends, it was between her freaking toes.  The only place it wasn't was on her hands! &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Way to make Mama proud Harper. Keep those hands disinfected at all times!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now along with a nearly 2 year old who in crabby tired and covered in poo, I now had to start turbo cleaning caca from every item and linen near Harper's crib.  I wish I could have found some humor at the time, but I am not that calm of a person.  I was totally grossed out.  I did have a glimmer of relief when I realized that this is the first time I've ever had this happen in my nearly 5 years of parenting.  Maybe it gets easier and less gross the second time it happens?  I'm hoping I never find out.  I've paid my dues.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm hoping for a less shitty day tomorrow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-7428146537637710016?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/7428146537637710016/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=7428146537637710016' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/7428146537637710016'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/7428146537637710016'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2008/08/beat-this-one-i-dare-you.html' title='Beat this one. . .I dare you!'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-7970718983428913022</id><published>2008-08-06T16:08:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-06T16:15:34.520-05:00</updated><title type='text'>You ought to know...</title><content type='html'>I just heard from a high school friend who I actually sang with ( don't get any ideas, she had crazy talent)and has started to record some songs.  She is blowing me away!  She always had a beautiful voice but now, Wow!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now go listen to her, her name is &lt;a href="http://www.myspace.com/hollyannreif"&gt;Holly&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-7970718983428913022?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/7970718983428913022/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=7970718983428913022' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/7970718983428913022'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/7970718983428913022'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2008/08/you-ought-to-know.html' title='You ought to know...'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-1050215949576916532</id><published>2008-07-31T16:00:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-31T16:23:16.064-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Drumroll Please...</title><content type='html'>My poor ex-boyfriend!  I hope he doesn't read this!  I am not sure where I pulled that story out of but last I heard, he was happily married to a girl.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The truth about my foot is that it is still super messed up from a fall I took down a set of stairs.  At first it hurt so bad I couldn't even tell where I hurt.  I told Pedro it was my ankle but it is in fact my foot, right about in the middle on the inside by my arch.  I really am starting to think I broke something in there because it just isn't healing!  I have the strangest pressure feeling when I walk down any stairs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The little black pug is something I've always wanted and mark my words, if we do happen to get a second dog someday, her name will be Ebi!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that leaves my nose.  I've wanted to have it done for years!  If you read me way back when I started blogging, I mentioned it then.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After years of finding excuses not to get it done, I decided I was just going to do it.  I made the appointment, picked up my friend and went to the place of *pokes and pricks and got it done.  I was scared to death and it was nothing.  My eyes didn't even water like I was told they would.  It was fast and easy, but the restraint of keeping my fingers out has been constant.  I guess I didn't realize I was a habitual nose picker!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SJIsFPpkn0I/AAAAAAAAAGc/weKzIiOU9TY/s1600-h/MyPicture.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SJIsFPpkn0I/AAAAAAAAAGc/weKzIiOU9TY/s320/MyPicture.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229290585942433602" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Wow I was clever for a second.  For the record, If I ever open a piercing studio I will most definitely call it Pokes and Pricks.  You heard here first, folks!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-1050215949576916532?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/1050215949576916532/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=1050215949576916532' title='16 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/1050215949576916532'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/1050215949576916532'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2008/07/drumroll-please.html' title='Drumroll Please...'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SJIsFPpkn0I/AAAAAAAAAGc/weKzIiOU9TY/s72-c/MyPicture.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>16</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-7819974070970925540</id><published>2008-07-29T15:27:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-29T15:44:22.436-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Walk in my shoes for a day.</title><content type='html'>Guess what I did last weekend?  Go on, guess...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK, I'll give you some ideas and you tell me what you think happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did I :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) Find out my foot that I hurt from falling down the stairs last week is actually broken and had a cast put on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) Pick up a close friend and drive to a piercing studio where I had my nose pierced.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3)  Get a new little 8 week-old, black girl pug and named her Ebi (pronounced eh-bee).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) Find out that my high school (and college too) boyfriend of nearly 5 years is gay and just invited me to their civil ceremony in another state.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go on guess, how well do you know me?  Need a refresher course?  Check &lt;a href="http://"&gt;here&lt;a href="http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2006/01/its-all-about-me.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/a&gt;!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-7819974070970925540?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/7819974070970925540/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=7819974070970925540' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/7819974070970925540'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/7819974070970925540'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2008/07/walk-in-my-shoes-for-day.html' title='Walk in my shoes for a day.'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-7555107238887793516</id><published>2008-07-24T15:13:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-24T16:17:51.690-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Mean People Suck.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SIjueOYlBWI/AAAAAAAAAGU/aPh96DL4iUA/s1600-h/IMG_1098.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SIjueOYlBWI/AAAAAAAAAGU/aPh96DL4iUA/s320/IMG_1098.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226689570588132706" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mason starts school in September.  We enrolled him in a 5 day per week 2.5 hours a day program.  I wish I felt better about the decision we've made.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Understand that I am not naive.  I am very aware that I can't keep my first born baby at home with me forever. I am also aware how important it is that he play and learn from other children.  What scares the hell out of me is the impression that other kids could have on Mason. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; We are out and about everyday in the summer and are around tons of kids.  What I've noticed is how nasty and disrespectful kids are now. They say awful things to one another and can be downright mean!  Again, I know that kids will be kids and that I won't be able to protect him forever from hurtful things but also that it is my job to raise this little person to be the best person he can be.  At this stage in life, he copies, he mimics and wants to do what other people do whether it is being the sweetest kid around or bullying.  Let's be real here...no one wants to have a brat for a kid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a nagging piece of my brain that wonders if I hold off just one more year, would it make a difference?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I talk to my family about this often and they (thankfully) understand completely.  My mom has commented a few times about "how relieved she is that she is not raising kids these days; It's a different world now."  And just so you know, my parents aren't all new-agey or peace-lovey.  They are pretty by the book.  So this time their agreement with me has made me think even deeper and more seriously and realize that &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;this time&lt;/span&gt; I'm not overreacting. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After all the dramatics and talkie-talk, my point is simple.  I've got a pretty cool little guy.  I'd really like to keep him that way.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-7555107238887793516?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/7555107238887793516/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=7555107238887793516' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/7555107238887793516'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/7555107238887793516'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2008/07/mean-people-suck.html' title='Mean People Suck.'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SIjueOYlBWI/AAAAAAAAAGU/aPh96DL4iUA/s72-c/IMG_1098.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-3325483913250605629</id><published>2008-07-20T17:01:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-21T08:03:52.430-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Getting a little rediculous now...</title><content type='html'>Wow, that was an extended break that I never saw coming... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm back now with a full functioning computer that will hopefully live up to all my hopes and dreams. I just need to get my groove back. What was it that I used to write about?  Yeah right.  A whole bunch of nothing, now I remember.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've been having a ton of fun so far this summer.  We've been going to the pool almost daily, I've been able to hang out with my "meant-to-be" friend. Last week she invited me and the fam to a party at her house.  They are having a band in the back yard of their house. Goodtimes!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Harper has been a little Miss Chatty Cathy lately. I am astounded with the things she is capable of saying these days.  This morning while Mason was in time-out she came up to Pedro and me and informed us that "Mason naunny!"  Mason has been very difficult lately.  Difficult and naughty!   He still makes me laugh daily though.  If I am not yelling, or putting the boy in time-out, I am laughing hysterically.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tell me, could you keep your cool and respond appropriatly if your son informed you that "he wants to have the hugest peepee in the whole town" ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't think so.  And neither did I!  I just laughed, until I cried!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-3325483913250605629?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/3325483913250605629/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=3325483913250605629' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/3325483913250605629'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/3325483913250605629'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2008/07/getting-little-rediculous-now.html' title='Getting a little rediculous now...'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-7501643107968352218</id><published>2008-07-01T21:42:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-01T21:56:58.520-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sizzle, Crack, Pop! %##**&amp;!!</title><content type='html'>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 &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/94491145@N00/"&gt;Flickr&lt;/a&gt;.  I don't know what I'd do if most of my favorite photos weren't somewhere so safe and sound!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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!"  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-7501643107968352218?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/7501643107968352218/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=7501643107968352218' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/7501643107968352218'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/7501643107968352218'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2008/07/sizzle-crack-pop.html' title='Sizzle, Crack, Pop! %##**&amp;!!'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-5650155624758054133</id><published>2008-06-18T15:46:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-18T16:20:32.481-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Confession #4732</title><content type='html'>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.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/94491145@N00/2493193094/"&gt; baking&lt;/a&gt; all our &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/94491145@N00/2354722239/in/set-72157605061009353/"&gt;bread&lt;/a&gt; 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 &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt; 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&lt;a href="http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2008/03/smart-i-think-not.html"&gt; lips and poopers&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-5650155624758054133?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/5650155624758054133/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=5650155624758054133' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/5650155624758054133'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/5650155624758054133'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2008/06/confession-4732.html' title='Confession #4732'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-2684285587026140337</id><published>2008-06-16T16:03:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-16T16:20:53.362-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Here.  Have a look.</title><content type='html'>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...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/94491145@N00/2585371350/" title="IMG_1030.JPG by glamgranola, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3154/2585371350_a768aae7df.jpg" width="500" height="333" alt="IMG_1030.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/94491145@N00/2584539263/" title="IMG_1029.JPG by glamgranola, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3028/2584539263_ba1f3ae3ec.jpg" width="500" height="333" alt="IMG_1029.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/94491145@N00/2584606441/" title="IMG_1032.JPG by glamgranola, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3078/2584606441_e22edf9e7e.jpg" width="500" height="333" alt="IMG_1032.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-2684285587026140337?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/2684285587026140337/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=2684285587026140337' title='16 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/2684285587026140337'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/2684285587026140337'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2008/06/here-have-look.html' title='Here.  Have a look.'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3154/2585371350_a768aae7df_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>16</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-4150424985766449438</id><published>2008-06-09T14:49:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-09T14:54:07.568-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Time Suckage.</title><content type='html'>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!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am writing a story for my first love, blogger, that should be up soon!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-4150424985766449438?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/4150424985766449438/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=4150424985766449438' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/4150424985766449438'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/4150424985766449438'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2008/06/time-suckage.html' title='Time Suckage.'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-3081515627253564666</id><published>2008-06-04T14:39:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-04T21:31:00.190-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Identity Crisis.</title><content type='html'>Did you know I just celebrated my third Blog-versary?  I did. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; 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.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now you think I am going to tell you I am closing up shop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; 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.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Really, what do you think?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-3081515627253564666?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/3081515627253564666/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=3081515627253564666' title='20 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/3081515627253564666'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/3081515627253564666'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2008/06/identity-crisis.html' title='Identity Crisis.'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><thr:total>20</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-7289020294183362216</id><published>2008-06-02T13:56:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-02T16:08:21.823-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sometimes it's a blessing to forget.</title><content type='html'>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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-7289020294183362216?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/7289020294183362216/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=7289020294183362216' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/7289020294183362216'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/7289020294183362216'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2008/06/sometimes-its-blessing-to-forget.html' title='Sometimes it&apos;s a blessing to forget.'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-380111686370685077</id><published>2008-05-30T14:42:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-30T15:12:55.797-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Adjusting Boobies: One crack at a time.</title><content type='html'>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.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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 &lt;a href="http://marylouretton.com/ml_biography.html"&gt;Mary Lou Retton&lt;/a&gt; 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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-380111686370685077?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/380111686370685077/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=380111686370685077' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/380111686370685077'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/380111686370685077'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2008/05/adjusting-boobies-one-crack-at-time.html' title='Adjusting Boobies: One crack at a time.'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-2985303762376682272</id><published>2008-05-27T08:56:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-27T10:24:18.699-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Show your slings!</title><content type='html'>Steph over at &lt;a href="http://www.adventuresinbabywearing.com/"&gt;Adventures in Babywearing&lt;/a&gt; is having another little cyber-party. This time she's asking others to show their slings.  I have 6 but one that blows all the others away. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; My &lt;a href="http://www.babyhawk.com/"&gt;Babyhawk&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/94491145@N00/459162724/" title="7days 007 by glamgranola, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/177/459162724_43b569eb0f_m.jpg" width="180" height="240" alt="7days 007" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, how I love her.  She's so pretty. Mine is two sided one side with skulls, the other with hula girls, all with cherry trim.  She is very well-made and sturdy.  And the coolest part that I never anticipated was that my husband loved her almost as much as I did.  Had I known, I would've picked  one side to be a little more masculine.  But he rocked her anyway!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/94491145@N00/2528150856/" title="100_0704.JPG by glamgranola, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2095/2528150856_7b1b41fa14_m.jpg" width="180" height="240" alt="100_0704.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-2985303762376682272?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/2985303762376682272/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=2985303762376682272' title='17 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/2985303762376682272'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/2985303762376682272'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2008/05/show-your-slings.html' title='Show your slings!'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/177/459162724_43b569eb0f_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>17</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-4541359628374951773</id><published>2008-05-22T16:33:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-22T16:35:00.794-05:00</updated><title type='text'>After 3 years...</title><content type='html'>who knew I had it in me?  I did this new design all by myself!  How 'bout them apples?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-4541359628374951773?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/4541359628374951773/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=4541359628374951773' title='17 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/4541359628374951773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/4541359628374951773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2008/05/after-3-years.html' title='After 3 years...'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><thr:total>17</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-6434822308879317837</id><published>2008-05-20T09:12:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-20T15:43:43.625-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Essence of Another Man.</title><content type='html'>Are you watching Dancing with the Stars?  I'm not, but last night as I was tying my running shoes to take the dog for a walk, the TV happened to be on that channel.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh Sweet Jesus.  Can we just have a moment of silence for the perfection of Jason Taylor?  &lt;a href="http://www.people.com/people/package/gallery/0,,20193583_20196426_12,00.html"&gt;He&lt;/a&gt; makes me salivate.  I don't care what kind of men make you swoon;  If he doesn't, I may have to check and make sure you have a beating heart.  That man is all sorts of beautiful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now.  Can I tell you how I once had &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;his&lt;/span&gt; sweat on my body? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why don't you go get a big icy glass of water or lemonade.  This may take a while and I wouldn't want you to overheat. *wink, wink*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You may of may not know that about 5 years ago Pedro and I were living in Florida.  We lived in Fort Lauderdale the next city over was Davie-where JT resides.  We only lived there for a year but we had a lot of fun in that short time.  While we were there we both belonged to a big name gym.  I did a typical chick workout of either aerobics or the elliptical and on a really ambitious day maybe some light weights.  Pedro would usually lift weights and then play basketball on one of the courts.  A few times Pedro played with Jason Taylor.  For the record, Pedro is 6-6 and what do you know?  Jason Taylor is 6-6. They played against each other.  You know what that means...all kinds of bumping and grinding in the most masculine way, of course.  My husband and Jason Taylor.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that night as we drove home from the gym, I am pretty sure I tried to rub all the leftover sweat off of Pedro thinking that there just might be a drop of JT mixed in.* Then I asked him if JT smelled good.  He didn't answer.  He only gave me a look that said I was completely out of my mind.**  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jason can do that to a girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*only slight exaggeration!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**honest to God truth!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-6434822308879317837?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/6434822308879317837/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=6434822308879317837' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/6434822308879317837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/6434822308879317837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2008/05/essence-of-another-man.html' title='Essence of Another Man.'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-8040853589706157662</id><published>2008-05-14T15:16:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-14T15:43:25.446-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Picnic Is No Picnic.</title><content type='html'>I couldn't handle looking at that last post anymore, so today we had a picnic.  We planned it just right so Pedro could join us for lunch.  Sheesh!  You almost forget how much work it is to prepare.  A Ton!  From the time I woke up this morning I went to work prepping for the afternoon. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I baked bread, my new obsession.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/94491145@N00/2493193094/" title="honey wheat and oat bread by glamgranola, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2349/2493193094_9dcdba12c2_m.jpg" width="240" height="160" alt="honey wheat and oat bread" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made my favorite salad. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/94491145@N00/2493193306/" title="so good, so easy. by glamgranola, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2142/2493193306_615bc2b4f9_m.jpg" width="240" height="160" alt="so good, so easy." /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made sandwiches, ran to the grocery store to get drinks and dessert,and we were off just three and a half hours later! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/94491145@N00/2492365651/" title="IMG_0905.JPG by glamgranola, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3008/2492365651_13e0e374bd_m.jpg" width="240" height="160" alt="IMG_0905.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; We got to the park and Mason was already starving.  He'd play for a few minutes and then run back to grab a bite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/94491145@N00/2493185780/" title="IMG_0907.JPG by glamgranola, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2090/2493185780_59a0572753_m.jpg" width="240" height="160" alt="IMG_0907.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pedro drove in a few minutes later.  He ran around with the kids to keep warm since it was freezing.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/94491145@N00/2493190406/" title="IMG_0926.JPG by glamgranola, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3244/2493190406_49193cbf9b_m.jpg" width="240" height="160" alt="IMG_0926.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We ate, played&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/94491145@N00/2492369869/" title="IMG_0931.JPG by glamgranola, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2403/2492369869_34017aeebb_m.jpg" width="240" height="160" alt="IMG_0931.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;played some more.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/94491145@N00/2492370341/" title="IMG_0935.JPG by glamgranola, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3168/2492370341_e2e819e6ce_m.jpg" width="240" height="160" alt="IMG_0935.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then we were all headed out.  Pedro back to work and us back home for naps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/94491145@N00/2492371525/" title="We two. by glamgranola, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3256/2492371525_ff29305ea7_m.jpg" width="240" height="160" alt="We two." /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was all good fun, but next time?  I am totally going to Subway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*if you'd like to see more picnic photos you can see them all &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/94491145@N00/sets/72157605056725470/"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-8040853589706157662?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/8040853589706157662/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=8040853589706157662' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/8040853589706157662'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/8040853589706157662'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2008/05/picnic-is-no-picnic.html' title='A Picnic Is No Picnic.'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2349/2493193094_9dcdba12c2_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-4529864038154311612</id><published>2008-05-11T20:55:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-11T22:13:28.709-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Mother's Day.</title><content type='html'>I wish I could say my mother's day was a happy one, and there were happy moments, but the day weighed heavy on me.   I wish I could write that my mom and I spent the day together having lunch and manicures, talking and laughing until we cried.  The truth is that I didn't even see her.  The lady she's been lately is not the mom I know.  The lady today is cursed with addiction so thick she can't see her way out.  She forgets, she glares and rarely calls.  She is not the mom I had growing up.  The mom I had growing up was loving and energetic and wouldn't miss any activity I was in for the world.  She was always there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, as much as I wished is was like it was before addiction, it's not.  It is so different I can't even begin to explain. Thankfully though I have memories.  And the memories I have are great.  Nearly perfect.  I remember tiny little things that were so special.  I remember taking afternoon naps on my parents bed.  I remember my mom laying with me jiggling her foot just enough to rock the bed and lull me to sleep.  I remember the notes in my lunch box and the Mickey Mouse pancakes. The tiniest things that left an incredible mark.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I look at my kids that I love more than anything and wonder and worry about the marks I'll leave with them.  I do things I hope they never remember and also things hopefully never forget.  But mostly, I hope they  know that I'll always be there for them. Tonight after a long, emotional day I nursed Harper to sleep and tucked Mason in one last time.  I told him how much I loved him and how I hoped we had a better day tomorrow, all while his little boy hand sweetly rubbed my cheek;  a perfect end to the day.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As much as I wish my day could have been filled with all things bright and cheery.  It wasn't .  It was however a perfect recap of what being a mama is all about.  There was dancing and crying and pouting and smiling. Nursing and rocking and snuggling and soothing.  And at the end of the day, I wouldn't change it for the world.  Taking the bad with the good; It's what being a Mama is all about.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-4529864038154311612?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/4529864038154311612/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=4529864038154311612' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/4529864038154311612'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/4529864038154311612'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2008/05/mothers-day.html' title='Mother&apos;s Day.'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-2089096024343065821</id><published>2008-04-29T14:07:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-29T14:44:04.077-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Out with the Bad, In with the Good.</title><content type='html'>Wow.  It sure is nice to know that so many of you have my back.  Frankly, I am done.  Just done.  This is what I've decided.  As much as I'd like to tell her what I really think of all the awful things she's said to me.  I have decided to not waste one more minute on her.  I will not go out of my way to be mean to her nor will I be nice.  I am done.  It may be awkward in the summer when we have friends over in the backyard that is shared with hers and I don't invite her to be a part, but enough is enough.  I'd like to retaliate in a way that would sting but that would only make me feel worse.  That is not the kind of person I want to be (although it may come to that one day).  I small (very, very small) part of me actually feels sorry for her.  What a way to live your life, so negatively, so toxic.  That's for her to figure out though.  Not me.  My hands are washed clean of her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This whole thing got me thinking about what I can do to be a happier person. I am not sad or depressed but I'd really like to be as happy as possible.  So last week, while the kids napped, I jotted down a list.  A "to do" list to be a happier me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is the list (as Pedro recoils into a corner from embarrassment):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-eliminate toxic relationships.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-make exercise a priority.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-have kinkier sex, more often.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-reduce house clutter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-finish started projects.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh stop it.  You know you feel happier when you are having crazy sexy-time more frequently.  It's good for the soul or something...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This weekend we officially finished our playroom a project that was drawn out for ages.  It is crisp and clean and hopefully the kids will trash that room instead of every other room in the house.  You know why?  Because it has a door and I can close that door and not think about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also got all three bedrooms spring cleaned this weekend.  I no longer need to have dreams about the dust bunny colony under my bed, because it is gone and replaced with the fresh scent of lemon Lysol. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About damn time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-2089096024343065821?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/2089096024343065821/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=2089096024343065821' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/2089096024343065821'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/2089096024343065821'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2008/04/out-with-bad-in-with-good.html' title='Out with the Bad, In with the Good.'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-339144091504733099</id><published>2008-04-24T14:01:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-24T21:26:13.351-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Love Thy Neighbor. *EDITED*</title><content type='html'>I've tried, and I just can't.  My neighbor who moved into "button" I've decided is one of those people who puts other people down to make herself feel better. I've let the rude and sometimes just plain mean comments slide but I fear the bite I have on my tongue is about to release.  You think I am exaggerating?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Listen to this.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Harper and I were at her house one night and Harper closed her TV armoire.  She told Harper to open it back up and as I got up to do it myself, I commented that Harper only followed directions occasionally and that I wasn't even sure she had the concept of open/close.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her reply:  You stay home with her.  That is your "job" to teach her that stuff.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me:  She just turned one, she's fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her:  My son had a favorite color and could say pur-ple at 9 months.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clearly she is a better mother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there is this. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We grill-out often.  This one night we were grilling a pork tenderloin.  She was commenting that it smelled good and I told her we cooked them pretty often since the kids loved them and they were healthy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her:  Healthy?  Pork is like the worst thing you can eat.  No one who is really health-conscious eats pork. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Geez.  Why did I go the school again when I could just learn everything about health from my totally uneducated neighbor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On another occasion she preached to Pedro about how we "eat meat in all its murderous forms".  Uh, abrasive maybe? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today she was talking down to me and I finally just looked the other way and said something to my kids.  I was ready to literally say, "It must be hard to be so perfect."  But I didn't because I don't want to be a bitch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously how can you treat people like that and still feel good about yourself?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I need some help.  How can I let her know that she is totally offending me?  Apparently she is not catching onto my body language.  I need it to stop before I unleash and it's not going to be pretty.  But Mama can only take so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**edited to add- I feel like you won't get the true beauty of "her" if I failed to mention this one...  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her:  Pedro leaves at really strange times at night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me:  He goes to the gym some weeknights after the kids go to bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her:  Are you sure he's not cheating...I'm just saying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OH YES SHE DID.  Now can I tell her to eff off?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-339144091504733099?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/339144091504733099/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=339144091504733099' title='24 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/339144091504733099'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/339144091504733099'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2008/04/love-thy-neighbor.html' title='Love Thy Neighbor. *EDITED*'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><thr:total>24</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-3752171723249527899</id><published>2008-04-23T15:21:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-23T15:24:14.561-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Day at the park!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SA-a1ZxYBpI/AAAAAAAAAFU/l02-ABNEVss/s1600-h/IMG_0866.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SA-a1ZxYBpI/AAAAAAAAAFU/l02-ABNEVss/s320/IMG_0866.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192539137623197330" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I promise to tell you all about Mexico but first... How cute is she?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-3752171723249527899?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/3752171723249527899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=3752171723249527899' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/3752171723249527899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/3752171723249527899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2008/04/day-at-park.html' title='Day at the park!'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SA-a1ZxYBpI/AAAAAAAAAFU/l02-ABNEVss/s72-c/IMG_0866.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-395513031427658587</id><published>2008-04-21T14:44:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-21T14:50:21.633-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Home Sweet Home</title><content type='html'>Hot damn it feels good to be home.  I've got stories to tell but unfortunately laundry and my sick boy come first.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/94491145@N00/2429006944/" title="100_0805.JPG by glamgranola, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2152/2429006944_bf2c481c54_m.jpg" width="240" height="180" alt="100_0805.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/94491145@N00/2428194583/" title="100_0807.JPG by glamgranola, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2210/2428194583_d65fc846c2_m.jpg" width="240" height="180" alt="100_0807.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-395513031427658587?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/395513031427658587/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=395513031427658587' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/395513031427658587'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/395513031427658587'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2008/04/home-sweet-home.html' title='Home Sweet Home'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2152/2429006944_bf2c481c54_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-6216207126814751886</id><published>2008-04-08T21:23:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-08T21:30:00.699-05:00</updated><title type='text'>18 (mo.) Going On 36 (D)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/94491145@N00/2400104056/" title="IMG_0844.JPG by glamgranola, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2001/2400104056_a5eb94486a.jpg" width="333" height="500" alt="IMG_0844.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are a few things I hope that Harper doesn't inherit from me.  Two things in particular.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-6216207126814751886?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/6216207126814751886/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=6216207126814751886' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/6216207126814751886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/6216207126814751886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2008/04/18-mo-going-on-36-d.html' title='18 (mo.) Going On 36 (D)'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2001/2400104056_a5eb94486a_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-1808554236179652552</id><published>2008-04-04T14:40:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-04T14:41:40.866-05:00</updated><title type='text'>You Picked 'Em!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/R_aEWbCwIaI/AAAAAAAAAFM/rzSvk0ox_vY/s1600-h/Photo+11.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/R_aEWbCwIaI/AAAAAAAAAFM/rzSvk0ox_vY/s320/Photo+11.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185477541714993570" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-1808554236179652552?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/1808554236179652552/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=1808554236179652552' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/1808554236179652552'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/1808554236179652552'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2008/04/you-picked-em.html' title='You Picked &apos;Em!'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/R_aEWbCwIaI/AAAAAAAAAFM/rzSvk0ox_vY/s72-c/Photo+11.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-1250167910819807257</id><published>2008-04-03T14:35:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-03T14:48:48.770-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Filler</title><content type='html'>Great questions you guys.  I'm nervous already about video blogging, but I am not backing out!  Some of them I have to modify because I think I'll be using the Mac to record and not a video recorder so I can't be moving all over.  But we'll see...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finally got my glasses that you all voted on.  I'll post the picture tomorrow of the winners.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But first!  My kids got some spring pictures taken.  I just threw them all into a montage so you can check them out if you'd like.  I am still partial to outdoor pictures but 8 feet of snow does not a good photo make!  I definately have a few favorites that I am sure you'll be able to spot immediately.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enjoy!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.onetruemedia.com/share_view_player?p=5645094273b2df37da7c6f" quality="high" scale="noscale" width="408" height="382" wmode="window" allowFullScreen="true" name="FLVPlayer" salign="LT" flashvars="&amp;p=5645094273b2df37da7c6f&amp;skin_id=701&amp;host=http://www.onetruemedia.com" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div style="margin:0px;font:12px/13px verdana,arial,sans-serif;line-height:20px;padding-bottom:15px;width:408px;text-align:center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.onetruemedia.com/share_player_link?p=5645094273b2df37da7c6f&amp;skin_id=701&amp;source=emplay" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.onetruemedia.com/share_player_link_image/5645094273b2df37da7c6f/701.gif" style="border:0px;" width="408" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.onetruemedia.com/landing?&amp;utm_source=emplay&amp;utm_medium=txt3" target="_blank" style="text-decoration:none;"&gt;Make video montages at &lt;span style="text-decoration:underline;"&gt;www.OneTrueMedia.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-1250167910819807257?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/1250167910819807257/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=1250167910819807257' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/1250167910819807257'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/1250167910819807257'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2008/04/filler.html' title='Filler'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-3451007874266410980</id><published>2008-04-01T14:18:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-01T14:35:09.550-05:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Ground-Breaking, Yo!</title><content type='html'>I have this idea.  This crazy, crazy idea that I'll porbably be kicking myself for in a couple of days.  But here it is.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But first, is blogging fizzing out?  A bunch of my favorite bloggers have decided to call it quits and although I understand, it makes me sad.  I'd be lying if I said I was totally gung-ho about blogging these days because the truth is, sometimes it feels like more of a chore to write these days.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've decided to spice things up.  You know, kind of like wearing crotch-less panties on your 34th wedding anniversary.  Really spicy.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's the scoop.  Give me a topic.  A question.  Anything.  And I am going to video blog it LIVE (but recorded).  I am hesitant to even give examples because I don't want to narrow the playing field.  But is there a question that you've asked me that I haven't answered?  Do you just want to hear the midwestern twang in my voice?  I'm game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hit me with your best shot- Fire away!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-3451007874266410980?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/3451007874266410980/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=3451007874266410980' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/3451007874266410980'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/3451007874266410980'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2008/04/its-ground-breaking-yo.html' title='It&apos;s Ground-Breaking, Yo!'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-7397866825480252208</id><published>2008-03-28T13:52:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-28T14:18:32.587-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Om.</title><content type='html'>Oh my God, oh my God, Oh. My. God.  Usually if I write a "poor me" post that seems the slightest bit as if I am fishing for reassurance I just turn off the comments.  Because "Wah, Poor Me" is just annoying.  Well boys and girls, this time I need it.  I need assurance that things are going to work out.  Because, Oh my God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are going to Mexico, right?  We leave in 13 days.  Harper and I both got our passports within 2 weeks.  At the end of the week we received ours I started mentioning to Pedro that he should track his and check the status of Masons and his own.  He did and was just given the genaric, "being processed".  That was good enough for us, we still had 3 weeks.  Fast forward to yesterday, we got two letters in the mail.  Not a good sign.  The  passport photos for the two boys were unacceptable. Holy shit.  I went ape.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are you kidding me?  You pay someone a fee assuming they are trained in how to take a photo that meets all the requiremnets of the picky passport office. You pay another fee to have them processed, which to me means they proofread your application and make sure all the " i's are dotted and the t's are crossed', right?  Apparently not.  This morning we went back to the location where we got them and gave them the letters.  Pedro specifially wanted me to come along to make sure "things got done".  We got there and the same guy who took our photos was working and he felt horrible.  He wanted to pay for our Overnight fee to have the new pictures sent back in.  It was coming out of his own pocket.  Pedro declined and we were on our own.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pedro called the passport office again to double and triple check what needed to be sent in.  They said the two passport were at the last stages of processing when they caught the error, so hopefully they will just be picked up where they left off.  Hopefully.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you guys ever heard of this happening?  We're going to get to go, right?  Holy shit, where is my paper bag.  I am getting myself all worked up again...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-7397866825480252208?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/7397866825480252208/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=7397866825480252208' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/7397866825480252208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/7397866825480252208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2008/03/om.html' title='Om.'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-7192886535861348592</id><published>2008-03-23T14:28:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-23T21:39:46.095-05:00</updated><title type='text'>All the chocolate you can handle!</title><content type='html'>We stayed up late last night getting the easter baskets ready for the kids.  Doing these things always is a little reality check that confirms, "Whoa.  I'm an adult."  It wasn't long ago that the Easter Bunny stopped coming to my parents house for my brother and me.  I was in college, coming home to spend Easter with my family and the Easter bunny still was hiding eggs and chocolate for me to find around my parents house.  I think once I started having kids, they got the focus but I still get some sort of chocolate.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning when the kids woke up, both Mike and I got up to watch the kids discover their baskets.  Harper was a little off.  Within an hour she was snuggled up to her Dada and before long, she was out like a light.  My poor girl.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/94491145@N00/2355553342/" title="IMG_0791.JPG by glamgranola, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2399/2355553342_cc3f4207cb_m.jpg" width="240" height="160" alt="IMG_0791.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/94491145@N00/2354721713/" title="IMG_0794.JPG by glamgranola, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3058/2354721713_f2cf4d6466_m.jpg" width="240" height="160" alt="IMG_0794.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We headed over to my sister's house for Easter Brunch.  Harper just clung to Mike and before long she was gagging and up-throwing.  It was a super quick brunch!  We headed home hopefully before we contaminated the rest of the people there.  I spent the rest of the day holding a sick baby girl and having a quiet day with my little family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/94491145@N00/2355552904/" title="IMG_0800.JPG by glamgranola, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3233/2355552904_68a79246b2_m.jpg" width="240" height="160" alt="IMG_0800.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-7192886535861348592?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/7192886535861348592/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=7192886535861348592' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/7192886535861348592'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/7192886535861348592'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2008/03/happy-cadbury-i-mean-easter.html' title='All the chocolate you can handle!'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2399/2355553342_cc3f4207cb_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-952059273820433255</id><published>2008-03-18T14:04:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-18T14:19:29.290-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Spring, sprang, sprung.</title><content type='html'>Guess what?  It was almost spring here!  But then it snowed again, and again, and again.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/94491145@N00/2342333476/" title="IMG_0771.JPG by glamgranola, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3280/2342333476_f5b19b5cdb.jpg" width="500" height="333" alt="IMG_0771.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last week it was so nice.  The sun was shining and the snow was melting and the days were longer.  Pedro would get home from work and I'd head out the door for my mega walk.  It sounds all cheesy but I'd turn on my ipod and start out for my walk and there was a renewed spring in my step. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/94491145@N00/2341503183/" title="IMG_0774.JPG by glamgranola, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2280/2341503183_9f52e73e45.jpg" width="500" height="333" alt="IMG_0774.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; But then the snow came and it got cold again and we reverted back to being couped like chickens.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/94491145@N00/2342333532/" title="IMG_0775.JPG by glamgranola, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3135/2342333532_35a4219436.jpg" width="500" height="333" alt="IMG_0775.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I keep telling myself that spring is right around the corner and then we can live again.  Until then.  The passports trickling in are all that are keeping me going.  That and margaritas.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-952059273820433255?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/952059273820433255/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=952059273820433255' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/952059273820433255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/952059273820433255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2008/03/spring-sprang-sprung.html' title='Spring, sprang, sprung.'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3280/2342333476_f5b19b5cdb_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-294245483574289443</id><published>2008-03-07T13:39:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-03-07T14:28:34.663-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Smart?  I think not.</title><content type='html'>There is one thing that I pride myself on, I don't feed my kids hotdogs, ever.  Never have, never will.  It's not really a snobbish thing at all.  I do damage in other ways like letting them eat sugary cereals, too many processed foods and having the TV on way too much. Oh yeah, and bathing them in Purell. But by God, I'll never intentionally feed them lips and assholes.  I try to not be crazy about it.  Mason has definately had a few in his life.  Usually, going to some child friendly event means hotdogs for kids, so if Mason wants to eat a hotdog, he eats a hotdog and I don't think much about it.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I few weeks ago I came across &lt;a href="http://workitmom.com/bloggers/orderingdisorder/2008/02/12/fun-food-hot-dog-octopi-and-macaroni-and-cheese/"&gt;this idea&lt;/a&gt;.  Really, does it get any cuter?  I knew it was something I wanted to make for my kids.  So today we went to the store and picked up some hotdogs.  Because I hate to break a tradition, I wouldn't buy hot dogs or even turkey dogs.  Instead I bought Smart Dogs.  Boy, if that wasn't the dumbest thing ever.  I eat plenty of meat substitutes. But these? These were hideous. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I plated them up all cute on a plate of cheesy noodles.  Mason beamed when he saw it.  It was adorable just like I hoped.  He dug right in and once he took a bite of the octopus, the record screeched.  He had a look of horror and he was done eating.  I tasted a bite of the meat scented gelatin and It was pretty bad.  I offered it to our chubby little pug and he backed up like he was being assaulted.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a four dollar waste, but you know what?  I could really eat a hot dog with relish on it right now.  What can I say, every now and then you've gotta &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;indulge&lt;/span&gt; right? Does anyone smell a hypocrit?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-294245483574289443?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/294245483574289443/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=294245483574289443' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/294245483574289443'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/294245483574289443'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2008/03/smart-i-think-not.html' title='Smart?  I think not.'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-7430806824339910730</id><published>2008-03-05T15:23:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-03-05T15:08:31.663-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Perfect Medicine.</title><content type='html'>Lately, I feel like our little family is just functioning.  It's not bad, but it's not feeling good either.  I've got "stuff" going on in my family and Pedro's got "stuff" going on at work and although these things shouldn't effect our family and things that go on in our house, they do.  They effect everything.  Yesterday I talked to Pedro about the way I was feeling and he agreed.  We just needed someway to leave everthing behind and focus on what matters most, each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was in labor with Harper and things were getting really hard, I did something that I hadn't planned on doing.  I did a whole bunch of guided imagery.  Let me clarify.  I sort of did plan on doing it, but once I was in the peak of pain, my body and my brain did it's own thing.  It was strange and remarkable all at the same time.  I would close my eyes and I would instantly visualize a family of four walking on the beach.  The fourth person was a little blonde girl whom I hadn't met yet. It was like it was a tiny clip of a movie that just kept replaying over and over.  It was so peaceful and beautiful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday we all applied for our passports and later last night we booked an all-inclusive vacation to Mexico.  On April 11th, the four of us will get on a plane and fly to Cancun Mexico.  Hopefully, it will give all of us the break from reality we desprately need.  This time with the little girl of my dreams.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-7430806824339910730?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/7430806824339910730/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=7430806824339910730' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/7430806824339910730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/7430806824339910730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2008/03/perfect-medicine.html' title='The Perfect Medicine.'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-767251596524113134</id><published>2008-02-28T14:45:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-28T16:45:24.145-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Loose Ends.</title><content type='html'>Guess what tonight is?  Girl's night out!  Woot!  &lt;br /&gt;Actually I am just meeting up with a friend from high school and we are having dinner.  We just reunited a couple of weeks ago and before that, it had been at least 7 years.  When we saw each other it was just like it was in high school.  I love friends like that!  She lives a few hours away but spends the weekdays here finishing up her last Midwifery clinical.  We always have tons to talk about!  She even answers my totally lame questions, like *how many people really do poop while pushing?  Always exciting talk!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been neglecting my blog, yes?  I can't help it.  I am obsessed &lt;a href="https://twitter.com/glamgranola"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; and it is so easy to just throw out a little though throughout the day.  If you haven't joined yet, you really should.  You won't be disappointed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You guys have really thrown me with your choices for my glasses.  The first day I was certain I'd be ordering the tortoise ones and  now the last 6 votes have been for the white cat-eye ones.  Between email votes and text messages on my phone.  The  contest stands at 10 : 8.  THe tortoise taking a very small lead.  So now I am really thrown for a loop!  I still need to hear from a few important souls...*cough* Jill, Stacey, Krissy, Pedro, *cough*&lt;br /&gt;Get on it kids!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Besides that?  We are just chillin' here, waiting for summer.  What have you been up to?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*A LOT to Most!  &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Thank you Jesus&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-767251596524113134?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/767251596524113134/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=767251596524113134' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/767251596524113134'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/767251596524113134'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2008/02/loose-ends.html' title='Loose Ends.'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-1016599050982231299</id><published>2008-02-21T20:56:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-22T12:12:30.967-06:00</updated><title type='text'>What a Spectacle. **EDITED**</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/R75DnTocbhI/AAAAAAAAAE0/WADl2LAbeFw/s1600-h/brazil_959_tortoise_lg.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/R75DnTocbhI/AAAAAAAAAE0/WADl2LAbeFw/s320/brazil_959_tortoise_lg.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169643764831776274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/R75DnjocbiI/AAAAAAAAAE8/r0nhQ6gEP8g/s1600-h/BA1063-B636_lg.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/R75DnjocbiI/AAAAAAAAAE8/r0nhQ6gEP8g/s320/BA1063-B636_lg.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169643769126743586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need some help.  &lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Since I've had babies, I've become this indecisive ya-ya.  It drives people around me crazy.  The time has come for me to get some new glasses.  if it seems like I just got new glasses, I did just a year ago.   They are scratched severely.  I tried to have them fixed, but the place I got them from thought it'd be fun to charge me $150 for new lenses.  Thanks but no thanks.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So.  I've found two pairs of glasses.  The two are very different but both very fun.  Practical?  Not so much but I've never really been one for practical glasses.  The first ones are a heavy tortoise pattern.  I love tortoise.  The second ones are white marbled 50's inspired.  I love that they are cat eye-ish.  So can you help a sister out?  Which ones do you like, for me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/R75GETocbjI/AAAAAAAAAFE/rfnB6ENcXkQ/s1600-h/MyPicture.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/R75GETocbjI/AAAAAAAAAFE/rfnB6ENcXkQ/s320/MyPicture.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169646462071238194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**Here's the scoop, I will (cross my heart) absolutely get the ones that receive the most votes.  EVERY VOTE COUNTS- Choose my glasses!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-1016599050982231299?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/1016599050982231299/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=1016599050982231299' title='21 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/1016599050982231299'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/1016599050982231299'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2008/02/what-spectacle.html' title='What a Spectacle. **EDITED**'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/R75DnTocbhI/AAAAAAAAAE0/WADl2LAbeFw/s72-c/brazil_959_tortoise_lg.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>21</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-4463565114196885841</id><published>2008-02-20T14:13:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-20T14:19:33.440-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Teeny Bits.</title><content type='html'>I'm busy.  I'm bored.  I'm a twitter girl.  I signed up nearly a year ago, but this time I'm going to keep up.  If you want to know every time I shave my pits... find me &lt;a href="https://twitter.com/glamgranola"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Let me know if you're a twit too m'kay?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-4463565114196885841?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/4463565114196885841/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=4463565114196885841' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/4463565114196885841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/4463565114196885841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2008/02/teeny-bits.html' title='Teeny Bits.'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-4606628363955083210</id><published>2008-02-14T14:40:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-15T08:13:37.702-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Sharing the love.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love going out for Mexican food and having that perfectly shredded chicken in my burritos.  I had never tried to make it because it seemed so intimidating and time consuming.  Guess what?  It is a breeze to make and you probably have all the ingredients right now!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Last night we had tostadas and soft tacos with it.  We've had it just by itself with mexican rice.  And I am dying to use it for chicken nachos!  The best part?  It makes about three meals worth.  You've got to try it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ingredients:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1 3lb. bag boneless, skinless chicken breasts&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1/2 bottle Italian dressing (I use light)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3 cloves garlic&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1 onion&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1 green pepper&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1 Tbs. Cumin&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1 Tbs. Chili powder&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;salt and pepper (I hate telling people how much to use because I like salt a LOT)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thaw out the bag of breasts and trim off anything that might gross you out and rinse.  Slice onion and green pepper.  I don't even bother slicing the garlic, I just  smoosh with the side of my knife.  Toss all the ingredients in a Crock Pot for 4-5 hours on high.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/94491145@N00/2264932487/" title="IMG_0547.JPG by glamgranola, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2254/2264932487_dca63df50d_m.jpg" alt="IMG_0547.JPG" height="160" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/94491145@N00/2265722738/" title="IMG_0545.JPG by glamgranola, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2411/2265722738_3582db2230_m.jpg" alt="IMG_0545.JPG" height="160" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After I noticed my Crock Pot had turned off I spooned out all the breasts (there will be a lot of liquid now) and put them in a separate bowl.  With a fork in each hand, start raking the meat.  It practically shreds itself taking no more than 2 minutes to do it all.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Toss all of it back into the Crock Pot and give it one good stir.  Turn Crock Pot to low until you are ready to eat it, but for at least 1/2 an hour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/94491145@N00/2265722600/" title="IMG_0558.JPG by glamgranola, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2074/2265722600_47345263cb_m.jpg" alt="IMG_0558.JPG" height="160" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It is totally fool-proof.  I used a jalapeno yesterday instead of the green pepper .  I wanted to throw in a tomato too but I only had one so I reserved it for a taco topping.  Add what you like, leave out what you don't!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I put leftovers in sandwich bags in the freezer.  Mmmm...Chicken Nachos!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-4606628363955083210?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/4606628363955083210/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=4606628363955083210' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/4606628363955083210'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/4606628363955083210'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2008/02/sharing-love.html' title='Sharing the love.'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2254/2264932487_dca63df50d_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-1645291607478820734</id><published>2008-02-14T14:24:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-14T14:37:37.480-06:00</updated><title type='text'>On Love and Sickness</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/94491145@N00/2264932179/" title="IMG_0566.JPG by glamgranola, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2371/2264932179_ae8bc5e0c4.jpg" width="333" height="500" alt="IMG_0566.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/94491145@N00/2265722532/" title="IMG_0571.JPG by glamgranola, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2045/2265722532_fc0376a664.jpg" width="500" height="333" alt="IMG_0571.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope you are having a fantastic V-Day.  Me? I am having an all out love fest with my Puffs Plus.  &lt;br /&gt;Thanks for your well wishes.  I hope to be better soon too!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kisses!  (germ free of course)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-1645291607478820734?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/1645291607478820734/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=1645291607478820734' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/1645291607478820734'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/1645291607478820734'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2008/02/on-love-and-sickness.html' title='On Love and Sickness'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2371/2264932179_ae8bc5e0c4_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-5675718284652316339</id><published>2008-02-12T21:22:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-12T22:12:01.320-06:00</updated><title type='text'>What kind of Doctors do I see?</title><content type='html'>Hiya.  Wecome to the house of sick!  Sit down and take a load off; It's gonna be here a while.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I never get colds.  So maybe never is a strong word, but my last cold was in June.  Before that?  It had been a good year, cold free.  Don't get me wrong,  my kids get them often, and Pedro too. I get every little stomach bug that walks on by but colds?  Cold are for sissies.  See?  Now you know why I am miserably sick.  I got way cocky.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Pedro started to feel nasty last Monday.  By Thursday I was feeling good that the rest of us were not going to get it.  "It"  consisted of a wicked fever that lasted 4 days, a super tight chest, and body aches like nobody's business.    By Saturday night, Mason was moaning every hour.  By Sunday night my chest felt like some sumo wrestler was sitting on it.  And last night poor little Harper started shivering uncontrollably.  So sad.  I think this may even be Influenza.  But of course we didn't get the shot.  My crunchiness kind of thinks it's a hoax and even more, I had a Dr.( who was also the rudest doctor ever) explain to me that it is all a prediction.  No thanks.  No predictions are going into my body or my kids.  Maybe I'll feel different in a few years, but for now, that's my story.  And we are all wicked sick.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;[&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Now watch.  The sickness will hold on for weeks because I am about to get cocky again&lt;/span&gt;.]&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When I start to feel like I am getting sick, there are a few things I do that I swear work.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*I make chicken soup from scratch.  Every single time anyone in my house gets sick, I make either Chicken Noodle or Chicken Dumpling soup.  I make my own stock from a whole chicken and my mom taught me how to make really good dumplings.   It's a little time consuming, but the kind of time that you don't have to be paying any attention to.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*I drink hot herbal tea by the gallon with honey and lemon.  I once had a Doctor suggest honey for a tight chest.  He suggested two tablespoons of honey diluted with two tablespoons of hot water.  Chug a lug!  And if you don't puke from the syrupy sweetness it works!  I just prefer to drink mine a little less aggressively, in tea.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*I eat super duper healthy.  I make sure I am getting beyond enough water.  I eat a couple oranges a day.  Blood oranges are in season right now and once you eat one of those, you'll never want regular oranges.  They are so tender.  None of that stringy stuff and they just taste awesome.  I am probably on crack or Theraflu but I think they have a hit of berry-ish flavor.  Go get yourself some.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*I really don't like to take pills but when I am rocking a 103 fever I turn to my little friend, Advil.  As much as I'd love to have a natural alternative, it is the only thing that makes my crunchy ass feel any better when I am burning up.    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Peace, Love and Purell.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-5675718284652316339?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/5675718284652316339/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=5675718284652316339' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/5675718284652316339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/5675718284652316339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2008/02/what-kind-of-doctors-do-i-see.html' title='What kind of Doctors do I see?'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-2248440153211155717</id><published>2008-02-07T14:55:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-07T14:56:18.957-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Woot!</title><content type='html'>Girls night out tonight,  Holla!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-2248440153211155717?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/2248440153211155717/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=2248440153211155717' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/2248440153211155717'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/2248440153211155717'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2008/02/woot.html' title='Woot!'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-8896629942346634741</id><published>2008-02-05T14:24:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-05T14:49:02.619-06:00</updated><title type='text'>In Case you Were Wondering...</title><content type='html'>* I took the vacuum &lt;a href="http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2008/01/well-of-course-it-does.html"&gt;back&lt;/a&gt;.  I just couldn't justify keeping it when my old one was working just fine!&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*I shaved &lt;a href="http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2007/12/7-things.html"&gt;my pits&lt;/a&gt; today!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*On Superbowl Sunday I became an Auntie again.  My older brother and his girlfriend just had their first baby.  Kyler David.  He really is beautiful.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*I am thinking about joining &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/groups_join.gne?id=617767@N24"&gt;30 tiny moments&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*Someone should sign me up for "Mother of the year" stat!  Today after lunch I started giving the nap countdown when Mason decided to throw a huge hissy.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"NO!  I don't want to take a nap!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Without even skipping a beat or raising my voice I just replied, "tough titty."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Cue the screeching record&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What was I thinking?  Clearly, I wasn't.  I don't talk like that (around my kids) ever.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Classy! Like having a 4 year-old birthday party at a nudie bar.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Totally embarrassing. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-8896629942346634741?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/8896629942346634741/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=8896629942346634741' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/8896629942346634741'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/8896629942346634741'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2008/02/in-case-you-were-wondering.html' title='In Case you Were Wondering...'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-4530052894665958810</id><published>2008-02-04T15:03:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-04T15:57:57.320-06:00</updated><title type='text'>No one I'd rather be with.</title><content type='html'>I always feel weird talking about this because it is so complex, but I feel this special bond with Mason.  Is it because he's my first? Is it because he's a boy?  Or, is it because we went through so much when he was a tiny premature baby?  Maybe it's all of those things combined, I am not really sure.  Sometimes  I let myself feel guilty about it which I shouldn't.  It is not at all that I love him more, it is just &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;different, &lt;/span&gt;a lot like a father and his daughter I'd assume.  &lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've been feeling like I wanted to spend some special time with Mason.  He's been really difficult lately and I start to feel like all I do is nag about what he's doing wrong, so I wanted to spend a few hour just with him. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We decided on Saturday morning that we were going to go to a movie.  Mason was so excited! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We got to the cinema and it was sold out!  You should have seen all the tears.  Mason didn't get why we couldn't just take a different seat.  Poor kid.  his first time to a movie and he got the shaft.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Instead, he wanted to go into the arcade (a personal hell for me).  He first road this motorcycle that I helped him with.  We did awful.  He wanted to drive the race car next and I kept my hands to myself. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; He did way better without me.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sheesh. I am so not ready to be saying that out loud.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We had a nice morning together.  We need to do it more often, my special little guy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-4530052894665958810?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/4530052894665958810/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=4530052894665958810' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/4530052894665958810'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/4530052894665958810'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2008/02/no-one-id-rather-be-with.html' title='No one I&apos;d rather be with.'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-3424721921967518568</id><published>2008-01-29T14:00:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-29T14:28:39.135-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Suck it!</title><content type='html'>This morning we needed to run a few errands.  To me, there is nothing worse than coming home to a trashed house, so I always try to pick up before walking out the door.  The house was decent and I decided to whip out the vacuum.  I'm vacuuming away and it just stops.  Nothing strange was sucked in, it just stopped.  Immediately I asked Mason to plug the vacuum back in.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"but it's already plugged in!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So we added a new errand to our list, a new vacuum. We went to 2 stores and decided on the &lt;a href="http://www.samsclub.com/shopping/navigate.do?dest=5&amp;amp;item=373142"&gt;Hoover Mach 6&lt;/a&gt; to replace our &lt;a href="http://www.epinions.com/content_237582716548"&gt;Hoover Fusion&lt;/a&gt;.  We loaded it in the car and home we went.  Just to be sure, I plugged our old vacuum in to make sure it didn't work and it was still dead.  Mason comes in and says he's going to fix the old vacuum.  He plugs it back into the wall an voila!  It works like a charm!  Now what do I do?  Do I return it and hope that my old one keeps kicking?  Or, do I sign my son up for the circus with his healing powers?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-3424721921967518568?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/3424721921967518568/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=3424721921967518568' title='17 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/3424721921967518568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/3424721921967518568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2008/01/well-of-course-it-does.html' title='Suck it!'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><thr:total>17</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-7045782337486740872</id><published>2008-01-27T16:10:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-28T09:42:04.226-06:00</updated><title type='text'>7 Things</title><content type='html'>I was tagged by the lovely &lt;a href="http://bbmpsecondjournal.blogspot.com/"&gt;MP&lt;/a&gt; for this 7 thing meme.  As if you need any more proof, here are 7 more things that will comfirm your doubts about me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"She's a strange one that Crunchy Girl..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. The smell of patchouli on me makes me insane, not in a good way.  I despise it.  On other people it smells heavenly.  When Pedro smells like it, it makes me wild, in a good way.  Roar Baby, Roar!  It is my favorite, buy &lt;a href="http://usa.lush.com/cgi-bin/lushdb/701"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt; for yourself or someone you like to sniff!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  I hate to shave my pits.  I do it (not often) but I hate it.  My legs often, the beav often (did I really just write beav?) but the pits are such a chore for me. HATE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  I was a waitress for many years.  I loved it!  It paid my way through college and was such instant gratification...you do a good job, you get rewarded within an hour.  With money!  I still talk about missing it, often.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.  I was a ballet dancer for 13 years.  I was told by my teacher often that I needed to lose 10 lbs starting at age 10.  Some how I've never had any sort of an eating disorder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.  I love to bake!  I bake at least one thing every week.  I blame &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Cake-Mix-Doctor-Anne-Byrn/dp/0761117199"&gt;this book&lt;/a&gt; I got about 8 years ago.  When I got it  I went crazy trying all sorts of recipes.  Now I almost never use a recipe, I just know how much of everything to add.  This is why I haven't yet come up with a recipe for &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photo_zoom.gne?id=2202042800&amp;amp;size=m"&gt;this cake.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6.  I love soup.  I make soup just about every week, all from scratch.  I like to make huge pots of it so I can have it for lunch throughout the week.  This is the last pot of soup I made.  Mmmmm,&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photo_zoom.gne?id=2201253317&amp;amp;size=m"&gt; Minnestroni&lt;/a&gt;!  Tonight I am making Cream of Broccoli.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7.  I'd rather have a really good chewy bagel than a donut, any day.  I used to be anble to say "no thanks" when donuts were offered until I got pregnant with Mason.  Now I'll eat either and rarely say "no thanks"  but mostly "yes please!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow.  That took forever.  Just so you know this post was started on Dec 14th.  Holla!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-7045782337486740872?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/7045782337486740872/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=7045782337486740872' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/7045782337486740872'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/7045782337486740872'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2007/12/7-things.html' title='7 Things'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-7188617376608495422</id><published>2008-01-21T07:50:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-21T07:58:24.336-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't be J!</title><content type='html'>My Dad is a really good guy.  He's been an awesome Dad and a great Grandpa.  When he works he dresses great.  His shoes always match his belt and his suits are always perfectly tailored.  When he's not working, Oh Sweet Lord!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One time my Dad went up to our cottage by himself.  It is so peaceful and beautiful up there, that one of the things all of us do when we're there is to just sit quietly at the end of the dock.  My Dad was sitting there were a boat drove up to him and asked him if he needed help.  His red sweatpants, bright blue sweatshirt and obnoxious hat were taken as S.O.S.  He laughs every time he talks about it but the red sweatpants are still up at the cottage and I am pretty sure he still wears them every time he's up there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other night when we got home from our little road trip, I ripped off my clothes and put on my most comfy duds.  I looked okay, I think, until I realized I needed to take the dog out and put some more clothes on.  Once I was ready to head out the door to walk the dog around the block, it hit me.   "&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;What&lt;/span&gt; am I wearing?"  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I looked totally hot!  No.  I looked HAWT!  So hawt in fact that Pedro grabbed my camera and started snapping.  I posed for a few,  then off I went to walk the dog.  I think the dog may have been a little embarrassed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/94491145@N00/2201253259/" title="IMG_0445.JPG by glamgranola, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2370/2201253259_440d8b5cd8.jpg" width="265" height="500" alt="IMG_0445.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I bet I make my Dad so proud some days!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-7188617376608495422?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/7188617376608495422/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=7188617376608495422' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/7188617376608495422'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/7188617376608495422'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2008/01/dont-be-j.html' title='Don&apos;t be J!'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2370/2201253259_440d8b5cd8_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-8546964071431281418</id><published>2008-01-18T12:49:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-18T13:58:09.938-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I am mean.</title><content type='html'>I really didn't plan on leaving you guy hanging, I swear.  I just couldn't take anymore whining and crying so I pushed publish!  Then you got all mad at me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've come to the conclusion that the owners really don't want to let the house go.  They built it themselves 31 years ago and lived there for 30.  Serious attachment issues.  And also that their realtor is an idiot.  After our FINAL OFFER in bold, they came back last night with another counter offer.  Yes, they did.  And we politely gave them the finger.  The middle one.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night we went out to dinner, after having chocolate cake, and I am now totally convinced that there is some reason that house isn't for us.  It wasn't perfect, but I was ready to work some magic on it and make it really rad.  You guys were right though.  I am not at all ready to say goodbye to this house, although we'll have to soon enough.  Now Pedro's got the bug, he spent all last night of the computer looking at more houses.  I am on hold.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But guess what?  They called again this morning to counter &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;again&lt;/span&gt;.  Douche Bags.  That's OK!  I still have half a chocolate cake here and it's the best damn chocolate cake ever!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-8546964071431281418?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/8546964071431281418/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=8546964071431281418' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/8546964071431281418'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/8546964071431281418'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2008/01/i-am-mean.html' title='I am mean.'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-8024851445660667722</id><published>2008-01-18T10:05:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-18T10:37:24.397-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Dream Home, part 4: The Waiting Game</title><content type='html'>I don't know about you but when I am waiting for something, I try to keep myself busy.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First my worry wart genes wake my ass up at 4: 15 am.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I turn into a Betty Crocker/ Martha Stewart wannabe.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/94491145@N00/2202043328/" title="IMG_0451.JPG by glamgranola, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2203/2202043328_0becf1bcbb_m.jpg" width="240" height="160" alt="IMG_0451.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That'd be a spinach and feta omlet, potatoes and sausages!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/94491145@N00/2202043248/" title="IMG_0454.JPG by glamgranola, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2346/2202043248_679b4c109f_m.jpg" width="240" height="160" alt="IMG_0454.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I like it when my Mom is trying to keep herself busy!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I make my kids go outside and "have fun" in the blizzard we are having just so I can take pictures of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/94491145@N00/2202043108/" title="IMG_0463.JPG by glamgranola, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2103/2202043108_5cd1e72718_m.jpg" width="240" height="160" alt="IMG_0463.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/94491145@N00/2202042898/" title="IMG_0466.JPG by glamgranola, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2292/2202042898_6fa0e6f053_m.jpg" width="240" height="160" alt="IMG_0466.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then when the kids are good and worn out  I put them both down for a long winters nap and wait some more!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The floors get scrubbed, clothes get washed, and then my crazy domestic brain starts to think about chocolate cake!  Hot Damn!  Some how we happen to have all the ingredients to make it,  with homemade chocolate frosting too!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/94491145@N00/2202043062/" title="IMG_0479.JPG by glamgranola, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2122/2202043062_026a995394_m.jpg" width="240" height="160" alt="IMG_0479.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My kids wake up just in time to help me frost.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/94491145@N00/2201252803/" title="IMG_0486.JPG by glamgranola, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2110/2201252803_3e1c67136f_m.jpg" width="240" height="160" alt="IMG_0486.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/94491145@N00/2201252581/" title="IMG_0488.JPG by glamgranola, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2074/2201252581_d26a638ea8_m.jpg" width="240" height="160" alt="IMG_0488.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we eat a totally Weight Watcher Friendly Chocolate Cake with Chocolate Cream Cheese frosting!&lt;br /&gt;And I am very, very good at lying to myself at this point!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/94491145@N00/2202042800/" title="IMG_0491.JPG by glamgranola, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2353/2202042800_5cb55c68c6_m.jpg" width="240" height="160" alt="IMG_0491.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then we finally get a phone call...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later today, I swear.  I cannot neglect my kids any longer!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-8024851445660667722?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/8024851445660667722/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=8024851445660667722' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/8024851445660667722'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/8024851445660667722'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2008/01/dream-home-part-4-waiting-game.html' title='Dream Home, part 4: The Waiting Game'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2203/2202043328_0becf1bcbb_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-7366238141223264326</id><published>2008-01-16T09:26:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-16T13:33:51.050-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Do you hear it?</title><content type='html'>...tick, tock, tick, tock...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*EDITED-  The owners who no longer live in town (they moved to a resort town)  want an extension to make their decision.  They are coming to town to discuss with their realtor...so looks like more waiting.  Good times Everyone!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-7366238141223264326?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/7366238141223264326/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=7366238141223264326' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/7366238141223264326'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/7366238141223264326'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2008/01/do-you-hear-it.html' title='Do you hear it?'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-8254172654241141206</id><published>2008-01-15T14:12:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-15T16:59:56.356-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Dream Home, part 3:  a new twist</title><content type='html'>Within hours after seeing the house, Pedro and I decided we wanted to make an offer.  Our realtor who is very conservative when it comes to buying and selling advised us to offer significantly lower than the asking price(which we could not afford) because of all the updating that would be necessary to live in.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We offered.  They countered.  We offered our max bid and they countered again. We were 10,000 dollars apart and we were done.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For some reason I was relieved.  I don't know how I would've handled having a house on the market with two kids who love to pay with 8,076 different toys each day.  I would miss my little house that we brought 2 babies home to even though we are outgrowing it.  Have I mentioned that we only have one bathroom?  It blows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This all happened 2 weeks ago.  Since then our realtor has been sending us various other listings.  I haven't had the slightest desire to look at any of them.  To get me to move it's going to have to be something special.  And quirky. And have a whole bunch of potential...  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday  after two weeks had passed, we placed one last offer on the log house.  We increased our bid by a measly $3,000 and included the words, FINAL OFFER.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those of you who are reading and playing along, wondering how the story ends?  Your guess is as good as mine.  They have 48 hours...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-8254172654241141206?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/8254172654241141206/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=8254172654241141206' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/8254172654241141206'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/8254172654241141206'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2008/01/dream-home-part-3-new-twist.html' title='Dream Home, part 3:  a new twist'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-4363705169568380077</id><published>2008-01-13T20:40:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-15T14:51:39.773-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Dream Home: part two *Updated with Photos*</title><content type='html'>I really didn't plan on leaving you all hanging for the entire weekend, but we were busy moving in! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Just kidding. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; We went on a last minute road trip Friday.  Let's get on with the show, eh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because Pedro knows me well, he sent me a link to this log cabin that was in a fantastic neighborhood near us.  We weren't at all in the market for a new house, but I was intregued,  I called our family friend who was also a realtor and made an appointment to see the house the very next day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We walked in and oh my God, the quirkiness!  And also oh my God the potential!  My wheels were cranking and I immediately had a half a bazillion ideas.  The house was built in the late 70's by the current owner.  He built it to suit his taste and kept it perfectly maintained. But I shit you not, the &lt;a href="http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=curtains+match+the+carpet"&gt;curtains matched the carpet&lt;/a&gt; in every single room. Each of the four bedrooms had a different primary colored carpet with mini-blinds to match. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/R4uyEBz0PZI/AAAAAAAAAEk/heRiyWOhvZ8/s1600-h/l2180d340-m6l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/R4uyEBz0PZI/AAAAAAAAAEk/heRiyWOhvZ8/s320/l2180d340-m6l.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5155409980730654098" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; It needed lots of updating, but I was confident that we could handle it after conquering "&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/94491145@N00/sets/72157601885876451/"&gt;Button&lt;/a&gt;".  Besides being outdated it was open and rustic with all exposed beams.  It had four bedrooms and two bathrooms, a wood burning stove and the coziest feeling ever.  But still, the brass light fixtures a the emerald green carpet (that matched the crocheted emerald valence) were nearly obscene.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/R4uyEBz0PaI/AAAAAAAAAEs/a1ifIhuhMQo/s1600-h/l2180d340-m4l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/R4uyEBz0PaI/AAAAAAAAAEs/a1ifIhuhMQo/s320/l2180d340-m4l.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5155409980730654114" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pedro and I had some things to talk about.  Did we really want to move?  We loved our house and finally started getting it to where we wanted it.  On the other hand, could we get the house for a great price since it had been on the market for 18 months.  Wow.  Decisions, decisions.  What should we do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What did we do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***100 % Actual photos***&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-4363705169568380077?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/4363705169568380077/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=4363705169568380077' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/4363705169568380077'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/4363705169568380077'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2008/01/dream-house-part-two.html' title='Dream Home: part two *Updated with Photos*'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/R4uyEBz0PZI/AAAAAAAAAEk/heRiyWOhvZ8/s72-c/l2180d340-m6l.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-3489183095998135657</id><published>2008-01-10T14:00:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-10T15:33:09.251-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Dream Home, part 1: because I could go on for days.</title><content type='html'>I don't think I've ever talked about this before, but I have a very clear picture of my dream home.  Two pictures in fact for my two very different homes.  The first one is a small beach bungalow.  Not a home just a few blocks from the beach, I'm talking a house built in the sand, baby!  It's fresh and airy and just fits my little family.  I would be caught most days chasing my kids around on the beach in a swimsuit (without muffin top of course).  The inside would be simple and crisp and mostly white-washed wood and I promise I'd never complain about sweeping the tracked-in sand 8 times each day. Dinners woud most likely consist of fresh fish thrown on the grill with roasted veggies and a tart and salty margarita to sip.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Think something like...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/R4aAHxz0PWI/AAAAAAAAAEM/fGqayt45sVk/s1600-h/s-201.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/R4aAHxz0PWI/AAAAAAAAAEM/fGqayt45sVk/s320/s-201.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5153947694690221410" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My other dream house couldn't be more different.  It would again be small but nearly completely wooded;  It would be a log cabin.  It would have big rustic logs as beams, ceilings would not exist in this home.  The fireplace would be crackling as I sip my coffee on my distressed leather furniture.  The room wouldn't be a perfect picture without a brown and white cowhide beneath my feet. Ah, there, now I am in love. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Think something like...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/R4aM_hz0PXI/AAAAAAAAAEU/KyPS6YbJhCc/s1600-h/_Robbins.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/R4aM_hz0PXI/AAAAAAAAAEU/KyPS6YbJhCc/s320/_Robbins.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5153961846607461746" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/R4aM_xz0PYI/AAAAAAAAAEc/KwDsktR3F_M/s1600-h/_WW3Hess_Loft.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/R4aM_xz0PYI/AAAAAAAAAEc/KwDsktR3F_M/s320/_WW3Hess_Loft.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5153961850902429058" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beautiful, no?  I know they are as different as can be, but I like to think of it as being prepared.  Prepared for the day I have more money than GOD!  Who wouldn't want a warm weather house and also a cozy inviting log cabin?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guess what?  We found one of these two houses.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-3489183095998135657?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/3489183095998135657/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=3489183095998135657' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/3489183095998135657'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/3489183095998135657'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2008/01/dream-home-part-1-because-i-could-go-on.html' title='Dream Home, part 1: because I could go on for days.'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/R4aAHxz0PWI/AAAAAAAAAEM/fGqayt45sVk/s72-c/s-201.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-740488283859679127</id><published>2008-01-09T20:59:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-09T21:16:01.557-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Still kickin' it.</title><content type='html'>Hi there.  How YOU doin'?  So much has been going on here, but I 've just not wanted to write lately.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pedro came down with the flu last Friday and while I wanted to take care of him and make sure he was OK, I wanted nothing more than to stay away!  The rest of us had been healthy for just one week, we couldn't get a whole other flu again!  It would be the death of me.  Each time Pedro would run to throw a puker, I'd get my bucket with hot water and disinfectant and be ready to sanitize the bathroom.  Psycho much?  We are all healthy and we never got it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday my sister and I threw a baby shower for my brother's girlfriend who is having a baby in just a few weeks.  It was perfect!  My mom was there and I did my best to not be all weird.  I probably didn't do so well.  We talked fluff-  about the cupcakes and my cinnamon rolls and that was about it.  We haven't talked since.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need a girls night out.  Bad!  Any takers?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S .We put an offer in on a house. Want to hear about it?  Next.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-740488283859679127?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/740488283859679127/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=740488283859679127' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/740488283859679127'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/740488283859679127'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2008/01/still-kickin-it.html' title='Still kickin&apos; it.'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-8552071752775955388</id><published>2008-01-01T21:21:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-01T21:32:42.319-06:00</updated><title type='text'>In with a BANG!</title><content type='html'>Today my mom and I got in a  fight.  It was a huge, nasty, dirty fight.  It was by far the worst adult fight that I've ever had with her and I feel sick about it.  The hard thing is that I said everything I've been needing to say for years but my delivery?  Sucked!  I turned into a person that I am not and never want to be.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If there is a good part that has come from this, it makes me value my babies that much more.  I want to be the best mom I can be in 2008.  I want to yell less. I want to play more.  I don't ever, ever want to scare them.  This is who I want to be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-8552071752775955388?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/8552071752775955388/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=8552071752775955388' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/8552071752775955388'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/8552071752775955388'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2008/01/in-with-bang.html' title='In with a BANG!'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-2438885888460284702</id><published>2007-12-26T15:55:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-26T15:57:08.995-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I hear little hearts breaking already!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/94491145@N00/2139477794/" title="IMG_0411 by glamgranola, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2308/2139477794_977c352893.jpg" width="500" height="333" alt="IMG_0411" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-2438885888460284702?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/2438885888460284702/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=2438885888460284702' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/2438885888460284702'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/2438885888460284702'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2007/12/i-hear-little-hearts-breaking-already.html' title='I hear little hearts breaking already!'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2308/2139477794_977c352893_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-3125615070173500962</id><published>2007-12-26T15:51:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-26T15:53:54.263-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Real-life Babydoll</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/94491145@N00/2139477880/" title="IMG_0408.JPG by glamgranola, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2393/2139477880_e3e463854e.jpg" width="500" height="333" alt="IMG_0408.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-3125615070173500962?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/3125615070173500962/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=3125615070173500962' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/3125615070173500962'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/3125615070173500962'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2007/12/real-life-babydoll.html' title='Real-life Babydoll'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2393/2139477880_e3e463854e_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-1135318167454816728</id><published>2007-12-21T14:49:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-21T15:03:52.976-06:00</updated><title type='text'>What's grosser than gross?</title><content type='html'>Less than two weeks after the ER fiasco...Enter Stomach flu!  Just in time for Pedro's 30th birthday, In-law house party and Christmas!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If my head is buried in the toilet for the next few days, Happy Barf-tastic Holidays!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-1135318167454816728?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/1135318167454816728/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=1135318167454816728' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/1135318167454816728'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/1135318167454816728'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2007/12/whats-grosser-than-gross.html' title='What&apos;s grosser than gross?'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-5926359219014551612</id><published>2007-12-17T07:50:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-17T07:50:36.807-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday Baby!</title><content type='html'>Dear Mason, &lt;br /&gt;Today is your fourth birthday.  Part of me feels like the past four years have flown by, while the other part feels like you've been in my life forever.  The past two years I wrote all about you.  This year I want you to see all we've done together.  &lt;br /&gt;I love you, more than you'll ever know.&lt;br /&gt;Mama&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2nd Birthday&lt;a href="http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2005/12/two-years-ago-today.html"&gt; here&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3rd Birthday &lt;a href="http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2006/12/happy-birthday-mason.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.onetruemedia.com/share_view_player?p=47de7018d782b73c6f902c" quality="high" scale="noscale" width="408" height="382" wmode="window" allowFullScreen="true" name="FLVPlayer" salign="LT" flashvars="&amp;p=47de7018d782b73c6f902c&amp;skin_id=701&amp;host=http://www.onetruemedia.com" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div style="margin:0px;font:12px/13px verdana,arial,sans-serif;line-height:20px;padding-bottom:15px;width:408px;text-align:center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.onetruemedia.com/share_player_link?p=47de7018d782b73c6f902c&amp;skin_id=701&amp;source=emplay" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.onetruemedia.com/share_player_link_image/47de7018d782b73c6f902c/701.gif" style="border:0px;" width="408" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.onetruemedia.com/landing?&amp;utm_source=emplay&amp;utm_medium=txt2" target="_blank" style="text-decoration:none;"&gt;Photo and video editing at &lt;span style="text-decoration:underline;"&gt;www.OneTrueMedia.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-5926359219014551612?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/5926359219014551612/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=5926359219014551612' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/5926359219014551612'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/5926359219014551612'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2007/12/happy-birthday-baby.html' title='Happy Birthday Baby!'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-4067895866395818859</id><published>2007-12-12T14:35:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-12T14:56:22.508-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Size Totally Matters</title><content type='html'>My camera? It's working again.  It was the lens that took a poop, and a huge poop it was.  For my birthday, after 869 tongue lashings Pedro bought me a new lens.  It is huge!  Almost intimidating; like it might hurt or something?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My photographer friend has gone all &lt;a href="http://www.graceindesign.com/"&gt;pro&lt;/a&gt; now so she uses all the red line lenses. This  left her other lenses all sad and lonely.  Not for long.  She is letting me borrow her 28-90mm lens until she needs it, maybe, some day. I am giving it all kinds of lovin! Yeah Baby!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/R2BGbBJbe1I/AAAAAAAAAD8/FHnJHx7PplQ/s1600-h/Photo+6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/R2BGbBJbe1I/AAAAAAAAAD8/FHnJHx7PplQ/s320/Photo+6.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5143188204435503954" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sweet little thang.  28-90mm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/R2BGbRJbe2I/AAAAAAAAAEE/Md8P_e2jwjg/s1600-h/Photo+8.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/R2BGbRJbe2I/AAAAAAAAAEE/Md8P_e2jwjg/s320/Photo+8.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5143188208730471266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Big Black Bad Ass. 75-300mm&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-4067895866395818859?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/4067895866395818859/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=4067895866395818859' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/4067895866395818859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/4067895866395818859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2007/12/size-totally-matters.html' title='Size Totally Matters'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/R2BGbBJbe1I/AAAAAAAAAD8/FHnJHx7PplQ/s72-c/Photo+6.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-6990062734435265189</id><published>2007-12-11T15:04:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-11T15:34:38.670-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Quaaack!</title><content type='html'>Phew.  I'm back.  I just needed a few days to get my bearings back.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About two weeks ago we made plans the go to Minnesota and do some hardcore Christmas shopping.  We were going with my parents and stay Friday through Sunday. Both my kids had been sick since Monday, but I figured they were at the tail end.  Ha ha Ha.  Stupid me.  We packed up our car at noon on Friday.  Both kids threw up on themselves in the car from coughing before we even left our city.  We got there around 4 and checked into the hotel.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mason coughed.  We went out to dinner.  Mason coughed.  Harper was getting better and Mason was getting worse.  By morning, after a rough 2-3 hours of sleep we knew we needed to take him in.  He was so exhausted from coughing.  We found the nearest Urgent Care and took him in.  The Doctor called it croup and said there was really nothing that could be done.  He highly suggested we take Mason to the nearest ER to be admitted for exhaustion.  I paid $138.00 and was on my way.  We headed back to the Hotel and packed up the car.  I wasn't comfortable taking him to a hospital out of town and I wanted him to be at our local hospital if he had to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got home around 4 on Saturday and took him into our local ER. I told them what we'd already done and they were shocked.  Shocked that the Doctor wanted to admit him for exhaustion but never thought to give him a breathing treatment to ease his coughing.  They took x-rays, gave him a breathing treatment and we were on our way home.  It wasn't croup, he had fluid around his lungs that was making him cough.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By Sunday morning after getting some sleep Mason was 90% better.  Today he's 99% better.  I am just pissed.  The more I think about it the more angry I get that the Doctor said there was nothing that could be done.  That he was probably at the worst day of the croup cycle, but that the exhaustion needed to be treated.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Cherry?  The clinic was private.  Insurance not taken.  (Bend over and let me have my way with you.  Then you will pay!  And say Thank You when I am finished!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What would you do?  We have been told to try and stop payment on our credit card.  We have never done this but do you think it would work?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-6990062734435265189?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/6990062734435265189/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=6990062734435265189' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/6990062734435265189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/6990062734435265189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2007/12/quaaack.html' title='Quaaack!'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-1159695200093193880</id><published>2007-12-05T09:38:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-05T10:04:58.145-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Holiday Cheer!</title><content type='html'>Thanks for all the Birthday wishes, yo!  It came and went with a crazy HUGE snowstorm!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Harper was feeling better by the end of the week and by Sunday (that's 2 days people) her nose was running like a faucet again.  This time it claimed Mason as well.  The last few days I've spent waiting on my two sick children hand and foot.  As much as I love all the snuggling and rocking, I am pretty sure if I never heard either of them whine again I'd be forever happy.  It really does drive a person crazy especially when there are two of them whining in unison.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think the sickness is claiming my brain now too.  On Monday I invited Pedro's entire family over to my house for Christmas. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Let's all have a moment of silence*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've always known that I was nice person, but &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;this&lt;/span&gt;?  Above and beyond.  I am not sure what got into me.  Yes, right.  The sickness eating my brain.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;The Pro's&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are doing it on December 23 which means no traveling on Christmas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At my house so my kids can nap when they need to nap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Con's&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pedro's entire family in my house, all at once.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pedro's entire family in my house, all at once.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pedro's entire family in my house, all at once.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pedro's entire family in my house, all at once.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pedro's entire family in my house, all at once.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pedro's entire family in my house, all at once.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Really, I am sure it's going to be fine.  I'll be on my best behavior and have lots holiday cheer, and beer, for everyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am keeping the wine for me.  All me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-1159695200093193880?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/1159695200093193880/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=1159695200093193880' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/1159695200093193880'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/1159695200093193880'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2007/12/holiday-cheer.html' title='Holiday Cheer!'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-2857891237055837911</id><published>2007-11-30T16:05:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-30T21:54:25.146-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Twas the night before 30</title><content type='html'>Twas the night before 30, &lt;br /&gt;my days still chaotic.&lt;br /&gt;So tonight I'll feel better,&lt;br /&gt;by drinking Hypnotic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My week was a bust.&lt;br /&gt;As bad as they get.&lt;br /&gt;But I posted everyday,&lt;br /&gt;never even took a rest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow I'm 30&lt;br /&gt;I hope it slows down.&lt;br /&gt;For just a few hours &lt;br /&gt;I'm a queen with a crown.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bring the body wrap,&lt;br /&gt;the massage,&lt;br /&gt;the dinner, just us two.&lt;br /&gt;Cause after this week,&lt;br /&gt;My brain is a big pile of goo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I were happy,&lt;br /&gt;full of  fun birthday cheers,&lt;br /&gt;But really you're more likely&lt;br /&gt;to catch me with tears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(intermission) (Christmas Party at &lt;a href="http://www.msmamma.blogspot.com/"&gt;Ms.Mammas&lt;/a&gt;)(Home post 2 glasses of wine)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The wine was delish&lt;br /&gt;The hor 'd orves were so tasty.&lt;br /&gt;Won't be going to Weight Watchers&lt;br /&gt;Cause I'm flabby and pasty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last decade was rad.&lt;br /&gt;Was as good as it gets.&lt;br /&gt;Shouldn't be all, "wah".&lt;br /&gt;Look at the goals that I've met.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is just one more thing&lt;br /&gt;before I lose sight...&lt;br /&gt;Happy 30's to all!&lt;br /&gt;And to 20's? Goodnight.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-2857891237055837911?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/2857891237055837911/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=2857891237055837911' title='17 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/2857891237055837911'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/2857891237055837911'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2007/11/twas-night-before-30.html' title='Twas the night before 30'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><thr:total>17</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-1041710993620471554</id><published>2007-11-29T21:30:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-29T21:46:17.541-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Can't seem to FOCUS.</title><content type='html'>The house is quiet.  Pedro is out watching a football game and both kids are sound asleep.  I've got eleventy-bazillion candles lit because I still can't calm down.  Harper is going through that crazy desrtuctive phase.  THe one you almost forget about after it passes until you have another baby then WHAM!  I think I have to say it is my least favorite phase of all developemental stages.  Wait.  What are they learning by being destructive again?  Right now I don't even care.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight my camera took the abuse.  Yes, my brand spanking new camera.  I had taken some pictures this afternoon and left it on the kitchen counter after I was done. After dinner when no one was in the kitchen Harper reached up and pulled the neck-strap and crack went my camera (insert dry-heaving here). The lens, is totally effed (insert profuse,spontaneous pit sweat here). Tomorrow I am taking it in (insert $$$$$ here).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's all I can say.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-1041710993620471554?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/1041710993620471554/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=1041710993620471554' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/1041710993620471554'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/1041710993620471554'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2007/11/cant-seem-to-focus.html' title='Can&apos;t seem to FOCUS.'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-8224163705657811182</id><published>2007-11-28T21:23:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-29T11:26:44.780-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Me, me, me.</title><content type='html'>I was thinking today that I'd really like to spend a couple of hours Saturday morning doing something for me.  I really haven't done anything pamperish in months.  What would you do?  Would you go to a Weight Watchers meeting on your birthday ready to hear bad news?  Yeah.  Me either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;**UPDATE**&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just found a gift certificate from nearly two years ago for a spa package.&lt;br /&gt;Queen for a Day- includes an herbal body wrap and a one hour massage. How's that for a day of pampering?  It's all free too!  YAY!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-8224163705657811182?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/8224163705657811182/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=8224163705657811182' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/8224163705657811182'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/8224163705657811182'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2007/11/me-me-me.html' title='Me, me, me.'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-5302826619621842849</id><published>2007-11-27T10:38:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-27T15:29:43.953-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Some things are probably better left unsaid.</title><content type='html'>Tomorrow is the day I get my girlie parts inspected.  I don't get nervous like I used to.  I've had babies now and when that happened I am sure my modesty was passed as well.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My va-heena. It has served me well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thing I've been thinking about is different.  During the inspection my boobies get the once over as well.  When this is happening I always feel the need to chant, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You'll shoot your eye out!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So maybe I don't actually say that.  That was my Christmas Story tribute.  But honestly, I do feel the need to say something to the effect that milk may in fact squirt out.  I have said this for the past 4 check-ups (Dear God I've now been nursing for 4 years.  Straight!)  I think I am just being courteous but I've also done/said some inappropriate things in my day.  What do you think?&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-5302826619621842849?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/5302826619621842849/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=5302826619621842849' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/5302826619621842849'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/5302826619621842849'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2007/11/some-things-are-probably-better-left.html' title='Some things are probably better left unsaid.'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-2945369649092585399</id><published>2007-11-26T21:52:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-26T21:59:22.963-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Here, have a picture.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/94491145@N00/2067103749/" title="IMG_0255.JPG by glamgranola, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2039/2067103749_0a8c838298.jpg" width="333" height="500" alt="IMG_0255.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to give you a family picture taken at Thanksgiving, but they all blew.  So instead I give you my pretty little girl.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/94491145@N00/2067899252/" title="IMG_0225.JPG by glamgranola, on Flickr"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2034/2067899252_761958a5b4.jpg" width="333" height="500" alt="IMG_0225.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-2945369649092585399?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/2945369649092585399/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=2945369649092585399' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/2945369649092585399'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/2945369649092585399'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2007/11/here-have-picture.html' title='Here, have a picture.'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2039/2067103749_0a8c838298_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-6818418360520250971</id><published>2007-11-25T20:36:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-25T21:46:22.242-06:00</updated><title type='text'>In the top ten for the worst day ever.</title><content type='html'>I am so tired I can't believe I am even going to try to describe my day.  It was long and horrible and HORRIBLE!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Harper woke up this morning to a beautifully snotty nose.  Everyone though it was so cute that her snotty cousin was feeding her pumpkin pie from his fork.  They were all "awww, how sweet!"  as my germiphobic mind was all "are you serious?  The kid has snot running from his nose directly to his mouth and I see nothing sweet about it!"  I just get tired of being the germ crazy in-law so I zipped the lips that time.  Stupid.  While I am very aware that kids need to build their immune systems.  I don;t think you need to go around licking Pietre dishes.  I think that is overkill.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pedro spent the weekend working on more projects.  Our partially finished attic is now a nearly finished playroom.  While I can't wait for the kids to have a room to call their own, I need a little time to breathe on the weekends.  This weekend, the very long weekend, I felt like I held my breath for hours at a time.  By noon I blew and went pyscho informing Pedro that he wouldn't be taking on another project for a year.  I am not sure where I came up with the time frame but it was what came flying out of my rabid mouth.  By one o'clock I was sent out the door (psycho works!).  I needed to catch up on a ton of things, including grocery shopping.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My first stop was at the home improvement store to get paint for the "project" room.  I picked out the paint color, had it matched and went to check out.  As I ran my debit card thru, the cashier looked at me and said it was not accepted.  Just as all this was happening, Pedro happened to call my cell.  I told his what was going on and he said it was not possible for the card to be declined since there was money in our account and in our overdraft account.  With the line behind me growing, they told me to go up to customer service and call the credit card company.  I was embarrassed and pissed and irritated with a short fuse.  I told them I really didn't have time to sit on the phone and I left- with no paint and more ammunition for my powerfully shitty day.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got to my car and told Pedro the rest of the story and that I was afraid to go grocery shopping, fearing my card would be declined again.  We both decided that I should go and get cash from an ATM.  I drove to the closest ATM which was also our bank.  I stuck my card in and immediately it said that my card had been confiscated and that I should contact my financial institution.  I think I may have also seen a little green monster pop out with his thumbs in his ears singing- neener, neener, neee-ner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not why I didn't start crying at this point.  I drove home and Pedro informed me that our debit  and credit cards had been blocked.  After a half an hour on the phone with the card company we found out that yesterday there was suspicious activity on our card.  I put $25 in gas in our car and 2 minutes later at the same gas station our card was charged another $75.  They noticed the strange activity and blocked our accounts.  The $75 got erased but my fricking debit card is gone.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When thing finally got figured out I went to grocery shop and to get new paint.  As I was walking into Wal-Mart to get some new Dutch Boy paint, two cars slammed into each other five feet from me.  It was Wal-Mart.  Typical.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-6818418360520250971?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/6818418360520250971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=6818418360520250971' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/6818418360520250971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/6818418360520250971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2007/11/in-top-ten-for-worst-day-ever.html' title='In the top ten for the worst day ever.'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-6609949593772172322</id><published>2007-11-24T22:09:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-24T22:16:32.207-06:00</updated><title type='text'>T minus 6 days.</title><content type='html'>Do you remember when you were a teenager and you never really saw yourself at 30?  No, really.  I imagined getting older, getting out of college, getting married and having kids but I never had a clear picture of 30.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My clear picture is just about to come and slap me upside the head.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bring it!  I am ready to take it on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Can we just end this NaPoBloBlah-blah-blah already?)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-6609949593772172322?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/6609949593772172322/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=6609949593772172322' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/6609949593772172322'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/6609949593772172322'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2007/11/t-minus-6-days.html' title='T minus 6 days.'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-125045726763603862</id><published>2007-11-23T21:28:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-23T21:28:21.318-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Big Boy, still my baby.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="float: right; margin-left: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/94491145@N00/2058100849/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2306/2058100849_8204cef44e_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-size: 0.9em; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;  &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/94491145@N00/2058100849/"&gt;IMG_0119.JPG&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;  Originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/94491145@N00/"&gt;glamgranola&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;As I write this, my baby is sleeping in a huge big boy bed.  Until a few nights ago, he loved his crib and wanted nothing to do with the big bed taking up space in his room, but tonight's the night.  Why do these tiny little milestones tug at my heart so much?  I'm going to be such a mess when he starts school.&lt;br clear="all" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-125045726763603862?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/125045726763603862/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=125045726763603862' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/125045726763603862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/125045726763603862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2007/11/big-boy-still-my-baby.html' title='Big Boy, still my baby.'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2306/2058100849_8204cef44e_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-4772315548396964730</id><published>2007-11-22T21:35:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-22T22:07:23.094-06:00</updated><title type='text'>More Talk of Oil.</title><content type='html'>Since it is Thanksgiving night and I am pooped from all the travel and family, let's not talk about it ok?  At least not for tonight.  I've had about all the screaming-baby-in-the-car that I can handle for while and I can handle a lot!  So let's talk about something all adult and crunchy.  Like, OIL!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am loving the results from the oil cleansing.  So much so that I talked my husband into trying it and he likes it too.  My skin as I mentioned before is very dry and pretty sensitive. I get an occasional pimple that Mason loves to point out as an "owie". I never use anything on my face that has a fragrance.  It is so dry that if I were to work out, and sit around for a couple of hours the amount of sweaty oil that would be on my face would be welcome.  I am always searching for something that makes my face feel silky.  Not tight and not greasy, just silky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pedros skin is perfect from the get-go.  For the record, before I knew  what his name  was called my roomates and I called him "Pretty Skin Boy"  or a tad less cheesy "PSB".   He too gets an occasional blemish but his skin is naturally silky.  I would classify him in the normal category.  He was convinced that rubbing oil into his skin would put him over into the oily category.  I even had my doubts but it worked like a charm for him too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After doing OCM for nearly a week I told Pedro that my face just felt balanced.  Think about it.  We wash our face and strip away the natural oils, bad and good, then slather on a nice moisturizer to replace what we just scrubbed off.  After I do OCM  my face feels like I just moisturized with the nicest face cream ever but also super clean.  I hope I am not reading more into than I need to but my pores seem tiny and the glow is something similar to the best post-sex glow ever.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only downfall is the time.  Most nights I am so tired by bedtime that I seriously just want to splash my face with a little water and go to bed.  This takes around 3-5 minutes which sometimes is too long.    I really don't see myself using it nightly forever, but for the winter or if you want your skin to feel amazing, oil it is!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-4772315548396964730?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/4772315548396964730/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=4772315548396964730' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/4772315548396964730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/4772315548396964730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2007/11/more-talk-of-oil.html' title='More Talk of Oil.'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-7291234048076276363</id><published>2007-11-21T21:03:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-21T21:22:23.022-06:00</updated><title type='text'>It's all about the turkey.</title><content type='html'>Tomorrow we are packing up the kids and driving 2 hours to see Pedro's family.  I think Thanksgiving is a great, meaningful holiday, yet I am not at all thankful for all the hustle and bustle of driving in a car with two kids for &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;a meal&lt;/span&gt;.  Gah.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So tomorrow morning I am waking up with the birds or 7 o'clock and my neighbor and I are going for a long walk before we gorge ourselves the rest of the day.  I love eating on Thanksgiving, I just hate how disgusting I feel after.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So tell me, what are your most and least favorite parts of Thanksgiving?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-7291234048076276363?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/7291234048076276363/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=7291234048076276363' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/7291234048076276363'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/7291234048076276363'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2007/11/its-all-about-turkey.html' title='It&apos;s all about the turkey.'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-8361652551398076006</id><published>2007-11-20T21:34:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-20T22:05:13.906-06:00</updated><title type='text'>So Close, Yet So Far Away.</title><content type='html'>Today was almost the best day ever.  But not.  Last week I was talking to my dad about my new &lt;a href="http://www.usa.canon.com/consumer/controller?act=ModelInfoAct&amp;fcategoryid=139&amp;modelid=11154"&gt;fancy-dancy camera&lt;/a&gt;.  I remembered there was a time way back when my dad was into photography.  I remember him splurging on a nice camera.  When we were talking I asked him what kind it was.  He didn't remember; It had been years.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning I was online looking at some even fancier lenses than the one that came standard with my camera. Later during the morning I was talking to my dad and asked him if he ever looked to see what kind f camera he had.  He went to go look as I was talking to him.  It was a Canon! With a macro lens! An old school Canon  but a Canon non the less.  What you may or may not understand is that the cool thing about Canon cameras is that all the lenses work on all the bodies.  Even film to digital.  I was so excited I nearly wet myself.  He told me I could take them if I'd like.  It was good Karma payday for me.  I drove over to there house within an hour and belted down stairs to inspect my new accesories.  They didn't fit.  The old school parts went out in the late 80's.  Wah!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So back to the search for a new lens for my camera.  At least Christmas is just around the corner?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-8361652551398076006?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/8361652551398076006/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=8361652551398076006' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/8361652551398076006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/8361652551398076006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2007/11/so-close-yet-so-far-away.html' title='So Close, Yet So Far Away.'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-4623491654560450372</id><published>2007-11-19T21:22:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-19T21:41:15.506-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The crunchy things I do #432</title><content type='html'>Tonight I am going to start &lt;a href="http://www.moogoo.com.au/category13_1.htm"&gt;OCM&lt;/a&gt;.  Have you heard of this? I have super dry skin and really have never found a cleanser that I love.  So I am going to try this starting tonight.  I am using 3 parts olive oil to 1 part caster oil.  I love the fact that there are no scents involved and it removes make up too.  I hope  &lt;a href="http://beauty-treatments.suite101.com/article.cfm/the_oil_cleansing_method"&gt;it&lt;/a&gt; is a success.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-4623491654560450372?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/4623491654560450372/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=4623491654560450372' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/4623491654560450372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/4623491654560450372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2007/11/crunchy-things-i-do-432.html' title='The crunchy things I do #432'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-1840616580648212574</id><published>2007-11-18T21:27:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-18T22:12:36.615-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm so dizzy my head is spinning...</title><content type='html'>I get in these writing slumps.  I write a paragraph and then hold my finger on the delete key until all I see is white.  I think to myself," Gah!  Boring! No one wants to read about this."  Then I just get all over-analytical and end up taking the day off.  But this month, I can't do that.  I am forced to write my most mundane daily occurrences.  I can't over-think and I shouldn't.  The thing is, the censor thing or lack there of, is a very slippery slope.  This is my blog, yes?  I should say whatever I please, yes?  Not really.  Some things I think about are really better left unsaid and just thought about.  Sometimes the things I think about are very opinionated and borderline and um, bitchy.  Not at all the kind of person I want to be in writing or in real life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This all came about when I was thinking about some of the blogs I used to read.  Many of them lost my interest because they turned all "preachy".  Frankly, when I have free time to look around online I generally do it for entertainment.  Sometimes to learn about something, sometimes to look for a laugh, sometimes it's looking for hope (that I am not a crazy looney) but usually it is just for fun, like reading a good book.  I am not all secretive about my opinions. In fact if I were asked about a controversial topic I can't think of a single topic I'd plead the 5th on.  I just don't like to be all hardcore, all the time.  I like my censor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So where am I going with all this?  I am not really sure.  Just writing about what's on my mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do have to add, to jumble up my post even more, that the very thing about speaking what's on a persons mind is what is so lovely about kids.  I love how frank Mason is.  So innocent and yet so direct.  No fluff included.  They are kids they are not expected to know what to censor.  That happens during that "growing up" part.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night Mason and I went to Target.  I let him sit in back of the cart as I pushed it through the ladies department.  As we were weaving in and out of racks,the cart at one point faced directly to the lingerie department and a plethora of bras hanging perfectly in rows.  Clearly they caught Mason's attention because out of nowhere he blurted,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Wow!  Look at all those boobies!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How did I respond?  I didn't.  I just laughed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-1840616580648212574?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/1840616580648212574/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=1840616580648212574' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/1840616580648212574'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/1840616580648212574'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2007/11/im-so-dizzy-my-head-is-spinning.html' title='I&apos;m so dizzy my head is spinning...'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-8430802488033676446</id><published>2007-11-17T21:48:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-17T21:56:22.685-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Well, Shit.</title><content type='html'>Today I woke up starving.  I truly never wake up starving but of course my head knew I couldn't eat before my WW meeting.  You know what I am talking about right?  When I first started going to meetings I went at 6pm and good Lord that was a long time to not eat.  So I knew I could handle fasting until 9am.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I walked into the meeting pretty unsure of what the outcome would be.  I worked out a lot this week and also ate a lot this week.  I stepped on the scale and dun, dun ,dunn...I lost .6 of a pound.  Just over a half of a damn pound.  That leaves just 4.4 left until  December 1st.  Miracles do happen, right?  Right?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-8430802488033676446?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/8430802488033676446/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=8430802488033676446' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/8430802488033676446'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/8430802488033676446'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2007/11/well-shit.html' title='Well, Shit.'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-2007483763215139609</id><published>2007-11-16T21:28:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-16T22:23:16.867-06:00</updated><title type='text'>iPod Revamp</title><content type='html'>I've made my playlist for working out.  Thanks for all your suggestions, they helped me pick what will get me all revved up!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is what I was lisenting to:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/Rz5kUVk_hWI/AAAAAAAAADs/VC3SgGMwt4E/s1600-h/Picture+1.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/Rz5kUVk_hWI/AAAAAAAAADs/VC3SgGMwt4E/s320/Picture+1.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5133650925801407842" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, my new and improved playlist for getting my sweat on:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/Rz5r51k_hXI/AAAAAAAAAD0/as4KBScOTks/s1600-h/Picture+3.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/Rz5r51k_hXI/AAAAAAAAAD0/as4KBScOTks/s320/Picture+3.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5133659266627896690" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-2007483763215139609?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/2007483763215139609/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=2007483763215139609' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/2007483763215139609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/2007483763215139609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2007/11/ipod-revamp.html' title='iPod Revamp'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/Rz5kUVk_hWI/AAAAAAAAADs/VC3SgGMwt4E/s72-c/Picture+1.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-5303909871010671145</id><published>2007-11-15T20:49:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-15T21:01:14.924-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Thanksgiving- one week early.</title><content type='html'>Today we spent around four hours in the car and the rest of the day doing funeral type things.  Funerals, they're exausting in all ways possible.  The one positive thing about them is how grateful I am by the end of the day.  Grateful that I have two healthy kids who run me ragged, a hot husband who gets crabby and a big family with issues galore.  Today nothing else really matters, I'm just happy they're all here.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-5303909871010671145?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/5303909871010671145/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=5303909871010671145' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/5303909871010671145'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/5303909871010671145'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2007/11/thanksgiving-one-week-early.html' title='Thanksgiving- one week early.'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-2106087793829375570</id><published>2007-11-14T21:33:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-14T21:56:13.902-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Weight Loss, What?</title><content type='html'>Today was one of those days that makes me wonder if there is a god somewhere who wants me to be fat.  My Mom called this morning and asked me and the kids to meet her out for lunch.  Because I never turn down a lunch out, I got us all ready and out we went.  We went to a little diner that has been in town forever, nothing fancy, just good plain food.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I look over the menu and made a reasonably healthy choice.  The old me would've ordered something like chicken salad on a croissant but the new me who wants to be hot again ordered a portobella mushroom sandwich.  OK, the old me may have ordered that too, but this sandwich sucked!  The mushroom itself was thinner than a McDonald's burger and it just came with lettuce, tomato, a dry whole wheat bun and a pickle spear.  Thank God I'd ordered a cup of chicken noodle soup or a may have started looking for food droppings under the surrounding tables.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I left hungry. I got in my car and drove directly to Starbucks and ordered a nonfat Chai latte and an Oatmeal cookie. I swear I am going to be in BIG trouble when I stop nursing, because I just can't eat enough, ever.  Seriously?  Who leaves a lunch date, hungry?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-2106087793829375570?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/2106087793829375570/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=2106087793829375570' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/2106087793829375570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/2106087793829375570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2007/11/weight-loss-what.html' title='Weight Loss, What?'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-582756985924588572</id><published>2007-11-13T21:20:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T22:08:04.830-06:00</updated><title type='text'>On Life and Death.</title><content type='html'>When Mason was born prematurely we spent two weeks in the NICU.  It was all consuming.  I thought about nothing else.  I cared about nothing else.  It was just Pedro and I and our little helpless baby with an occasional visitor thrown in.  Nothing else mattered.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the day came that we were given the okay to take our tiny baby home I remember having the strangest feeling.  Everyone was the same.  They had been going to their jobs, they had gotten haircuts.  They were just &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;living&lt;/span&gt;.  While we were experiencing some of the hardest days of our lives, everyone else was just living.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Sunday I called my friend,neighbor, photographer at 9:30 am.  She was at her in-laws house while her Mother-in-law was spending her last days at home.  I asked her how things were going and she told me her mother-in-law had passed away just a half an hour earlier.  They had been spending the last 30 minutes soaking up all that was left of her.  They gave her her last bath, they took pictures, and they said goodbye.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later that day I was in my car, on my way home from grocery shopping and I had the strangest feeling again.  While another family was grieving the loss of someone they loved so much, I was out shopping for food. I felt a little ashamed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think about all the times that little coincidental things happen and I say "what a small world". But the fact is, it's not small at all.  It's huge-and sad how little each life being born or passing really affects the rest of the world. We are all just little water drops in the ocean that is life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-582756985924588572?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/582756985924588572/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=582756985924588572' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/582756985924588572'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/582756985924588572'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2007/11/on-life-and-death.html' title='On Life and Death.'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-1189562505674681530</id><published>2007-11-12T10:01:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-12T21:52:41.678-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The weight is over.</title><content type='html'>This Saturday, I went back to Weight Watchers. Not that I ever left or anything, I just wasn't going.  It was been months since I lost a mere pound.  With my 30th birthday approaching in 18 days I've been revived and I am going to look &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;good&lt;/span&gt;.  I've set a reasonable goal for those two and a half weeks of 5 pounds.  I can do it!  Why five pounds?  Because 5 pounds would put me at a very pretty number(to me).  A number that I've been wanting to snuggle with.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not usually one to care about numbers.  It's been made very clear that a number is nothing more than just, a number.  I still weigh much more than I did in college but some of my smallest college jeans fit me with ease.  My body is so different.  My B's have become functioning D's.  My once flat stomach has grown 2 healthy babies and is marked with proof.  My budonkadonk no longer carries as much junk in the trunk as it did in my party days. So basically I still have problem areas, they are just new areas.  Should we even talk about the muffin top? No?  Good.  I hate that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So for the next two weeks I am working out hard, molasses cookie intake will be kept to a minimum and I am going to lose five pounds by December 1st.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, if you haven't left me your favorite workout song, could you help a girl out? So far, so good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-1189562505674681530?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/1189562505674681530/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=1189562505674681530' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/1189562505674681530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/1189562505674681530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2007/11/weight-is-over.html' title='The weight is over.'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-7386685227929191991</id><published>2007-11-11T21:49:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-11T22:10:51.728-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Music makes the world go 'round.</title><content type='html'>I am in search for new workout music for my ipod.  I need help.  The stuff I've been listening to works.  So well in fact that I'm inspired.  I've noticed that when I am on my long walk and a really good, upbeat song comes on, I get the urge to run!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know, right?  Who would've thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The problem is very few of the songs on it are fast and furious.  So my question for you is...tell me one or two of your favorite workout songs or a song that you can't help but start grooving to when you hear it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't be embarrassed.  The ones I have ready to go are:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=780fZbo0x-I"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since You've Been Gone&lt;/a&gt;- Kelly Clarkson&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cJmghwq7k2I"&gt;Who Knew&lt;/a&gt; - Pink&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So bring it on!  Can't wait to hear your suggestions.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Laura, you should have a huge list for me since you run marathons.  A whole lot of music can be played while running 26.2 miles.  She runs MARATHONS people!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-7386685227929191991?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/7386685227929191991/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=7386685227929191991' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/7386685227929191991'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/7386685227929191991'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2007/11/music-makes-world-go-round.html' title='Music makes the world go &apos;round.'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12795706.post-2694757817331437607</id><published>2007-11-10T14:41:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-10T15:23:20.200-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Bargain Babe!</title><content type='html'>I like nice things.  I like deals.  I am not sure which I love more.  I think it's fair to say I've found some awesome deals that I am going to pass on to you. You'll thank me; Unless of course you like to pay lot's of money for your stuff.  But then?  You are probably just a little on the not so bright side.   I kid.  I am not about the verbal assault.  Here is the info, take it if you please.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First things first.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you see what I see?  Do you wear glasses?  Wouldn't it be nice to keep an extra pair in your desk at work or in your car?  Except they cost a gazillion dollars.  Mine were and now they are "all custom" with scratches.  I want to kick myself for waisting money when I could pay under $20, have them shipped to my door, and not care &lt;br /&gt;too much about what happens to them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Holla!  I'm your girl!  &lt;a href="http://zennioptical.com/cart/home.php"&gt;This site&lt;/a&gt; advertises the $8.00 glasses.  The whole package $8.00.  I took them up on it and bought my super cute husband a pair to try.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/94491145@N00/1249412903/" title="Photo Sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1139/1249412903_9aa2927bfc_m.jpg" width="240" height="180" alt="100_0698.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not bad huh?  They are prescription sunglasses. They have more expensive ones too but I think the most expensive package was $29.  Who can refuse?  My only suggestion is to have an idea of what you want, then try to match it.  Otherwise there are hundreds to look through, not to mention that each frame shown has probably 5 other color options.  I like to use the search box and type in exactly what I am looking for to narrow things down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you like shoes?  Duh.  Who doesn't like shoes.  My new "Mom" shoe obsession are &lt;a href="http://www.earth.us/catalog.asp?Gender=women&amp;cat=3"&gt;Earth Shoes&lt;/a&gt;. They are kind of expensive though, right?  Well I started doing my research and found them at &lt;a href="http://www.sierratradingpost.com/"&gt;Sierra Trading Post&lt;/a&gt; for half the price, sold!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have more, but it'll have to wait for another day.  Now go buy yourself something real pretty m'kay?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12795706-2694757817331437607?l=glamgranola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/feeds/2694757817331437607/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12795706&amp;postID=2694757817331437607' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/2694757817331437607'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12795706/posts/default/2694757817331437607'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://glamgranola.blogspot.com/2007/11/bargain-babe.html' title='Bargain Babe!'/><author><name>AnnieM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01981676563561146547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_9fkc5LOBYD4/SID_AHL3zxI/AAAAAAAAAGM/8z7vB_jv2YM/s1600-R/2680056337_8686e0f057_t.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1139/1249412903_9aa2927bfc_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry></feed>
