There’s a lot of moms around the interwebs that call themselves crunchy. I’ve always kind of wondered what that means.

Last night as I was breastfeeding my cloth diaper wearing baby, while wearing her in the Ergo front pack, all while making stuffed manicotti with grain fed ground beef I bought right from the farmer and home canned spaghetti sauce made with the organic veggies I grew in my garden, I started thinking about how my parenting style is different than I thought it would be or has changed over the last four years.

How I’d never imagined I’d be into cloth diapering two kids, at least part time…or how dedicated I’d be to nursing.

How four years ago, no way in hell I would have nursed in public, then just a few weeks ago found myself in a situation where I was, in fact, nursing in public.

How I always thought sharing breastmilk was the weirdest thing and never in my wildest dreams did I imagine myself giving nearly all of my frozen breastmilk to a 3 week old baby that needed it. Then, again, found myself doing just that a few days ago.

As I stood there in the kitchen, reflecting on all these things, I kind of laughed and couldn’t help but think, “when did I become so hippy? So…granola?”

Then it was like a light went off.

OOOOoooohhh…baha…I get it…

Crunchy like granola.