Drumroll Please...

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.

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.

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!

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.

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!



*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!

Walk in my shoes for a day.

Guess what I did last weekend? Go on, guess...

OK, I'll give you some ideas and you tell me what you think happened.

Did I :

1) Find out my foot that I hurt from falling down the stairs last week is actually broken and had a cast put on.

2) Pick up a close friend and drive to a piercing studio where I had my nose pierced.

3) Get a new little 8 week-old, black girl pug and named her Ebi (pronounced eh-bee).

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.

Go on guess, how well do you know me? Need a refresher course? Check here!

Mean People Suck.

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.

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.

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.

I have a nagging piece of my brain that wonders if I hold off just one more year, would it make a difference?

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 this time I'm not overreacting.

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.

Getting a little rediculous now...

Wow, that was an extended break that I never saw coming...

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.

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!

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.

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" ?

I didn't think so. And neither did I! I just laughed, until I cried!

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

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

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

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

Confession #4732

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

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

Here. Have a look.

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

Time Suckage.

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

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

Identity Crisis.

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

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

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

Never!

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

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

Really, what do you think?

Sometimes it's a blessing to forget.

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

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

In other news:

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

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

Adjusting Boobies: One crack at a time.

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

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

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

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

Show your slings!

Steph over at Adventures in Babywearing 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.

My Babyhawk.


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!

After 3 years...

who knew I had it in me? I did this new design all by myself! How 'bout them apples?

Essence of Another Man.

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.

Oh Sweet Jesus. Can we just have a moment of silence for the perfection of Jason Taylor? He 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.

Now. Can I tell you how I once had his sweat on my body?

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*

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.

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.**

Jason can do that to a girl.




*only slight exaggeration!

**honest to God truth!

A Picnic Is No Picnic.

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.

I baked bread, my new obsession.

I made my favorite salad.

I made sandwiches, ran to the grocery store to get drinks and dessert,and we were off just three and a half hours later!

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.

Pedro drove in a few minutes later. He ran around with the kids to keep warm since it was freezing.

We ate, played


played some more.

And then we were all headed out. Pedro back to work and us back home for naps.


It was all good fun, but next time? I am totally going to Subway.

*if you'd like to see more picnic photos you can see them all here.

Mother's Day.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Out with the Bad, In with the Good.

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.

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.

Here is the list (as Pedro recoils into a corner from embarrassment):


-eliminate toxic relationships.

-make exercise a priority.

-have kinkier sex, more often.

-reduce house clutter.

-finish started projects.

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...

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.

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.

About damn time.

Love Thy Neighbor. *EDITED*

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?

Listen to this.

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.

Her reply: You stay home with her. That is your "job" to teach her that stuff.

Me: She just turned one, she's fine.

Her: My son had a favorite color and could say pur-ple at 9 months.

Clearly she is a better mother.

Then there is this.

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.

Her: Healthy? Pork is like the worst thing you can eat. No one who is really health-conscious eats pork.

Geez. Why did I go the school again when I could just learn everything about health from my totally uneducated neighbor.

On another occasion she preached to Pedro about how we "eat meat in all its murderous forms". Uh, abrasive maybe?

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.

Seriously how can you treat people like that and still feel good about yourself?

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.

**edited to add- I feel like you won't get the true beauty of "her" if I failed to mention this one...

Her: Pedro leaves at really strange times at night.

Me: He goes to the gym some weeknights after the kids go to bed.

Her: Are you sure he's not cheating...I'm just saying.

OH YES SHE DID. Now can I tell her to eff off?

Day at the park!

I promise to tell you all about Mexico but first... How cute is she?

Home Sweet Home

Hot damn it feels good to be home. I've got stories to tell but unfortunately laundry and my sick boy come first.