He’s Lost His Eff-ing Mind

Being in the medical field, people I know often come to me with health related questions. Sometimes I can tell people are using me to gauge how crazy their symptoms are before they go to their real healthcare provider. And by “people”….I mean my husband.  

First off, I’m about 2 classes and 100 clinical hours short of my PEDIATRIC nurse practitioner degree. My husband does not fall into the pediatric specially or that would be super creepy. Today he tells me, “so sometimes my left knee feels wet. Not all over, just like a 2cm square area.” 


In pediatrics, if a child tells me their left knee feels wet, there’s a 99.99999% chance this child has what is called “grabaShoutWipeSTATbecausethiskidhastheREDcherryjuiceboxtheywerejustdrinkingontheirleftkneeseriouslywhoinventedjuicebox-itis”. 

But my husband can usually handle his juice boxes without spilling so I needed to dig deep into my nursey nurse brain for this one! I’m relatively sure he’s going to make it through the night.

In his defense, the first time I met him I told him he had cancer. Not in those exact words. In these exact words. He had a sore on his eye and he says to me.

Him-“Don’t mind my eye, I’ve had this sty for like a year now.”

Me-“Oh really?” First date, mind you. Met on a dating website, first time seeing him in person.

Him-“Yea sometimes I think I pick it in my sleep because it will like bleed or scab over or something, but it just never heals.” And all the nurses reading this sing in harmony (B🎶C🎶C)

Me-(realizing he had asked me on this date because he knows I’m a nurse and he wants my opinion on his eye) “So have you talked to your doctor about it?”

Him-“No, do you think it’s something big? Like it’s not cancer……..is it?”

Me-He’s cute, I better use nice but strong words so he goes to the doctor and gets this taken care of. “There’s no way of knowing without a biopsy of the area, which would have to be done by your doctor. But this is a valid symptom your healthcare provider would want to see you about.”

Btw, telling a guy to get his basal cell carcinoma taken care of can earn you some brownie points cause that boy put a ring on it!

 Do yourself a favor and Google sty. I like how the Internet is moving away from the basic race and gender neutral stock photo people. But this guys creator could have dialed down the stalker/hitchhiker look just a smidge. 

I Worked Out Today. It’s Called Kegals. 

I had influenza B pretty much all of April. No, the flu does not involve vomiting or other GI concerns. I’m talking the cough from hell! Fever, bodyaches, congestion. The real influenza. 

As the mother of two vaginally delivered daughters, I learned during April that I do not kegal nearly enough. Yes, I peed my pants. Everyday. No, every time I had a coughing episode. Super sexy, let me tell you. 

Went from panty liners to pads and then the pads got bigger because there was NO way I was buying Depends. Strengthen those pelvic floors ladies! Kegal till the cows come home. Because once you have a cough, it’s too late to realize you’ve not kegalled enough!

Don’t get to the point where you’re considering Depends. Because Depends are for when you’re so old, you’re cute again.

Hello My Name is “Her et al.” & I am a Dance Mom


She’s 8 and will be completing her 6th year of dance in a few weeks. I love to watch her dance. In the beginning, it was fun. I watched her run in her tap shoes because it sounded funny. I remember looking in and seeing all 8 five year olds making faces at themselves in the mirror and comparing wiggly teeth. 

Fast forward and the mirror is where she checks her form and spacing and whatever and she no longer runs in tap shoes (although she did break an arm running in tap shoes.) Still in their big room with psychedelic painted walls and rows of barres, comparing wiggly teeth. 

She finds fun in dance in different ways now. She thinks it’s fun in the studio, 10-12 hours a week. All the moms (including myself) just drop them off and leave now because no one wants to hang out in there alone for 3 hours straight. It’s not fun for me anymore and it’s way more expensive now. 

But here we are, on the cusp of competitive team. More money, more time and she couldn’t be more thrilled. I don’t wanna do it anymore. 

“I stuck”-Occupational Hazards of Being a Toddler 

 In honor of my 2 year olds birthday today,  I’m releasing a collection of photographs over the last year. These pictures are from actual events in which she has been stuck or has claimed to have been stuck. The first picture is my favorite because of the irony written on her onesie. She was “stuck” in her toy basket. 
Stuck trying to rip her clothes off. 
Stuck in her dolls stroller. 
Stuck backwards in her dolls stroller 
Stuck in the chair getting a haircut. 
Somehow stuck in this position against the wall. 
That pesky toy basket has a hold of her again. 
Stuck while climbing on the table she’s not suppose to be climbing on. 
And finally…legitimately stuck in her jumper. One leg in, one leg out. God, thank you for writing her into our world!  

I’m Fat

So I heard recently that the artist Pink had gained some weight. She responded via Twitter with a story retelling an interaction between herself and her daughter where her little girl asked her, “mommy why are you so squishy?” She responded with, “b/cuz I’m happy baby” I can relate to that statement with the every inch of my soul (minus the way she spelled because.) I don’t share this with many people but I spent a good portion of my teens and early twenties testing out bulimia and anorexia. If you could see me now, I assume you would laugh at that statement because I look like the worse eating disorder gal EVER! Those were my dark years. I cry just trying to remember the pain I felt for all those years counting bites and calories and exercising till I vomited. Hoping my heart would just stop while I was sleeping. Praying those 10 Benadryl I had left would work their magic if I took them all at once.

I fear backsliding into that, so I don’t run. Because I don’t trust myself to know where the line between healthy and unhealthy are. I don’t count calories because then I cut them until I’m down to a celery only diet. I tired Weight Watchers and I would beat myself up if I ever ate my daily allowance of point. I don’t trust how good I was at keeping those secrets.

Pregnancy was hard. I wanted to eat healthy for my babies and every bite was emotional. I’ve been pregnant twice and gained 19lbs the first time and 7lbs the second time. Which is good for a woman who is overweight. My babies were healthy sized, both were a few weeks early but they were home by one week old!

So here I am. Fat….and happy. I get it Pink! I don’t have starvation migraines! I don’t secretly run to the bathroom after meals. I don’t hate myself. I look in the mirror and tell myself, “My gosh Her et al. you’re fat! But that smile is to die for.” To be able to say my smile is to die for and not think that a stick figure is “to die for” (figuratively and literally) is my success story. 

Am I healthy? Not 100% I’d guess. My fasting labs are fine. My HDL could always be higher, but it’s within range. My blood pressure is good and I am currently not depressed! I want to scream it from the mountain tops. I rejoice and thank God I don’t hurt like that anymore. Squishy feels good.

Princess Kate Had Her Baby

Hear ye! Hear ye! I’d like to remind everyone that even princesses have to deal with the 1st postpartum poop. 

Now, why is it NO one warns of this before you have a baby? For some reason, mothers seem to think it’s their right to scare the crap out of first time pregnant mommys with horror stories. “The baby can get stuck on its way out and they have to push the baby back in, run you to surgery, cut you from hip to hip, and rip your baby out!” But that rarely happens. Now the postpartum poop, that happens to EVERYONE! Including princesses.

I assume her mesh panties are couture and hold hand woven pads larger than her newborns diapers. Probably Jenny Packham also!

Heres a link to buy your own since I’m a good blogger and that’s what we do.


Super Lotion

I’m making some Super Lotion today! I repost it every so often so I can find it!

I stumbled upon this handy dandy recipe off of a blog about a year so ago, and I’m afraid I’m unable to remember who or where I got it from. Since making it, a few of my friends have said their grandmothers use to make something similar. At our crib, we refer to this lotion as “Super Lotion” because it’s made up of several different products you can find at your local drugstore and it is our “go to” lotion for the girls in the winter. In the summers, I use this more since I shave every day, plus it’s bare skin season. 

Additionally, I’ve used it on our toddler who has eczema and it works wonders with her.  I’m not sure that it works better than the old Cetaphil, but it certainly smells prettier! Now in full disclosure, if you have sensitive skin and you try this lotion and then break out or develop a rash afterwords, your healthcare provider will likely tell you to discontinue this lotion as it does have a scent. If you have a child with eczema I’m sure you already know that effective treatments vary from person to person and are trial and error kind of basis. 

Now let’s begin the goodness:

I use my handy-dandy stand mixer with my paddle attachment. My paddle has a rubber edge that scrapes the bowl so I don’t have to! Really I’m not quite sure how to do it without a stand mixer but do your thing.


  1. 15 oz pink Johnson’s baby lotion (brand only)
  2. 3/4 cup Vaseline (generic works)
  3. 1 capful of vitamin E oil
  4. 4oz Fruit of the Earth vitamin E Skincare Cream (I’ve never been able to find the cream in my town, but I have ordered it off Amazon. I’ve used the FOTE vitamin E Lotion and it works just as good)
  5. (Optional)-Hydrocortisone Cream 1%, 1 tube-I added this when my youngest eczema is at its worse and then the lotion is even more super! But obviously this is an optional step based on your needs

Directions: Pour everything in your stand mixer, turn it on a medium speed and let it go for a few minutes.

Pretty soon it will start to look fluffy and pink, so don’t leave it unattended in the stand mixer or some poor unsuspecting loved one make dip a finger in thinking its frosting.

When it’s done, fill up the bottles you’ve just used (use a gallon bag with a clipped corner as a pipping bag to fill bottles) and your good to go!

You’ll need one other bottle your first time making this because you’re adding the Vaseline and vitamin E oil.

Am I There Yet?

I’ve been a stay at home mom now for about 3 years and I still feel like I’m finding my way. I’m not the best at keeping house, cooking, finances, (wondering now why my hubby put a ring on it) and I kept telling myself that I’ll get there. Give me time, once I get into a routine, I’ll stick to it. Or the domestic engineer fairy will fly past me and sprinkle me with some anti-lazy dust. But what I’ve discovered is that it just doesn’t come naturally to me. Maybe it does to others but I’m just going to have to make myself keep up on housework but forgive myself when I fail. Because that’s like once a week and I can’t be mad at myself forever.

So I started small and made my bed everyday, sometimes before I pee because mommy peeing is the equivalent of a cookafrickendoodledoo in this place. I gave myself Saturday’s off of bed making and soon after that, realized I hate it when the beds not made. Our room looks like a pillow forest when all those frilly decorative pillows that my husband has nightmares about are strewn about.

Soon after the bed realization I found out that our bathroom was the epicenter of our house. We have one bathroom the girls and I use and a scarey bathroom in the basement my husband uses so he doesn’t have to worry about little ones having to pee. Three girls have lots of bathroom supplies. A good percentage of our mornings are spent in there getting everyone ready. I’m more productive in a clean bathroom. I can find our bobby pins and hair ties and Princess flossers easier, thus making our mornings easier, thus making life easier.