Diverticulitis Update

Disclaimer: we’ve moved into my inlaws because we’re building a house and our house sold too fast. We’ll be here about 3 months. I love my inlaws and my husband. They are the best!

Day 12: Hubby et. al grabbed groceries on his way home from worked and bought himself…..pizza rolls*


This is apparently a death trap for no officially diagnosed diverticulitis. I didn’t catch on the subtle comments at first.

So while sitting down to watch Deadpool as a family (see upcoming post 😬), my husband made himself some pizza rolls.

“Oh that’s no good for his stomach issues.” (He had one tummy ache)

“You can’t eat those things Hubby et. al. They are so unhealthy.” (He knew that when he bought them)

So while sitting next to my mil, she Facebooks me this:

No warning. No explanation. No comment afterward.

As she and I sat next to each other on the love seat.

Watching Deadpool.

Birthday Cookies

Look, if I send my kid to school with 13 cookies and I go to pick her up and she’s the 2nd kid out of the door and there are only four other little butts on that mat, I want my other cookies back, lady!

I may have bags under my eyes and my shirt on backwards but I can still count past ten when there sugar and fancy frosting involved!

I just cleaned poop off of my toddlers ear and then had to brush her teeth because she told me, “poopy taste icky.” AFTER she gave me a goodnight kiss!


Sometimes a leftover cookie is all we SAHM’s have to keep us from jumping off the highest level of the play equipment…..which wouldn’t really do anything except sprain an ankle and maybe gain us some sympathy points from the hubby and then maybe he might empty the dishwasher.

But that’s ok. You just eat those cookies like we both don’t know where they went. I’ll pretend like all these extra kids came and left when I wasn’t looking and ate the cookies.


I Think I Might be the Easter Bunny

I live off of salads and veggies and am a massive organism. So as far as I can tell, the only rational explanation is that I am the Easter Bunny and I am just now realizing it.

For about ten years, I decided to be a vegetarian. Not because or animal rights or anything, just because I don’t really care for meat and I was sick of people asking me if I was a vegetarian all the time. Becoming a vegetarian is not a diet, let’s make that clear. It meant lots of carbs for me. And cheese. And dear God almighty, do I LOVE cheese!! I would F*CK cheese….but I digress. 

Becoming a vegetarian increased my love of veggies ten fold! I now eat meat but not often. And never rabbit meat. So clearly I’m the Easter Bunny!

I must go into some sort of amnesiac sleepwalking world tour once a year. 

Had a Burthday

The blog, not the blogger.

I like to casually gloss over these things as if nothing has happened. Mostly because I didn’t notice. And I wouldn’t have if WordPress hadn’t notified me that I needed to pay for my .com again. Thank Obama.

So I thought I take it back to the Her et al. that does cuss and doesn’t talk all about her dad dying all of sudden last summer….errrr shit!!!!

Oops. Ok. Miss Martha Stewart Her et al. here revisiting my most popular post! You guessed it!

Lotion Potion 
Shared over one catriple times. I made a batch tonight because Baby et al.’s elbow’s looked like this:

 But that’s after I rubbed the lotion on which really overly perfused her skin making it really red! 
We call that “dinosaur skin” in this house. No clue why. Sissy et al. started it one day and it seemed pretty politically correct, so I let it fly. 

Unlike the time she said she had “homeless hair” at the Grand Floridian. It was a pretty accurate description of her hair at the time, but I cringed at the people she could offered with that!

Back to my lotion. Best. Stuff. Ever. To add to its awesome, I got the new Kitchen Aid attachment everyone else has, the bowl scrapper. Yes, it’s as glorious as it sounds. It looks like this: 

So I squirt my four little ingredients (refer to previous post), flip on my stand mixer, and forget all about it. Because I did this after dinner and dinner includes wine on Sunday’s (and every other day that ends with “y“). And it’s easy to forget with wine!

Maybe that’s why Baby et al.’s elbows look like dinosaur diaper rash. Oh well. At least we’re on our way to improvement now. 

Does anyone miss the old Her et al. or have you all evolved with me….or left? Blog followers are like the boyfriends girls have when they are going through their bar fly stage, they kind of fly in for the night/weekend/month and then move on. Not that I mind, I do the same thing to you guys! 

But, to those lifers I have, you guys are my fav! 🍾

My Recipe For Self Pitty

My toddler has a good full shade darker tan than I myself. My baby, who I coat in sunscreen has a better tan than me.

What I have going on, doesn’t fall into any “tan” category. It’s more like this:


  • 3 pounds of sugar
  • 1/4 tsp of cinnamon 


  1. Combine all ingredients. 
  2. Take a step back and look at the color. 
  3. Feel sorry for me.