I have a really bad habit of disappearing for long periods of time, don't I? Well, it's about time for a blogging streak again! Of course, I never know where the day is going to take me, and I never know what I'm going to blog about until I sit down and do it. Today, you get toilet paper and wet wipes.

I know what you're thinking. Why in the world would I want to talk about how you wipe yourself? Well, there are two reasons today. First, Crowdtap and Cottonelle were kind enough to send me very generous samples of Cottonelle's 'Clean Routine' products. Have you seen the commercials? The ones that ask how things like washing your car without water is different than wiping without wet wipes? They sent me an 18 pack of toilet paper and a little container of wet wipes for me, plus 4 packs of toilet paper and small packs of wipes for two friends. I'd like to tell you what I think about the samples.

Reason two is facebook doesn't like me very much. I originally wrote my review on a picture there, and it disappeared. I wrote it and reposted the picture, and it disappeared again. Now I'm going to share here instead! Really, it's kind of cool, because I love to write, and on this blog, I have a better opportunity to write as much as I want.

So, what did I think? Let me explain in pictures.

First, how does the roll start? With four kids now, three of which are no longer in diapers, this is really important, because if it starts hard, we end up with even more waste. Considering my 3 year old, JJ, went through a phase, where he would take a roll off the holder, wipe, and throw the entire thing in, we wasted more than enough for this lifetime...

Yes... I do have four brands of toilet paper in my house right now. I'm a bargain shopper, ok? So, what did it come down to? Cottonelle, Charmin Ultra Soft, and Quilted Nothern Ultra Plush all started at least pretty easily. Scott Extra Soft... By about layer 2 or 3, you'll get it going.
Durability was also put to the test, as I wrote on the rolls, so I didn't remember which was which. Charmin Ultra Soft and Quilted Nothern Ultra Plush both tore like crazy. Scott didn't, but it's also super thin, so you need more to keep from plunging through, especially if you're wiping a little bum. The Cottonelle held up best for the durability test. It's not as soft as the Charmin or Quilted Northern, but we found it comfortable.

So, the next thing. How much do you get on the roll? The Charmin and Scott were disqualified from this example, because they were triple rolls. Here's a comparison of the Cottonelle v the Quilted Nothern. I think the Cottonelle actually has a little more.

Back to the whole waste thing. I go nuts when I get to the bottom of a roll, and a round or two sticks to the cardboard in the center. It wastes toilet paper, and it's annoying to get off, so I can use the cardboard for crafts with the kids. I was excited to see the Cottonelle cardboard totally clean at the end. No comparison here, because I didn't have rolls for all of them.

We also had the child-friendliness test.  This is my adorable four year old, who has recently decided she WILL wipe on her own, and nobody can even be in the bathroom with her. By her age, one would expect them to pretty much have the wiping thing down. She does a pretty good job, but once in a while, she misses some. Wet wipes were a big thing to try with her, but would they be easy enough? My concern was how most wipes stick together, and it's hard to use them one-handed. These weren't. They were easy to separate with just a one-handed tug.

So, what is the overall review? Besides what I posted above, the system was actually really nice. Since we've been using the whole system, I haven't noticed streaky underwear. Personally, I feel cleaner after using wet wipes, too. We have already purchased more of the wipes, while on sale and with coupons, of course! The toilet paper that was given to us wasn't quite as soft as others we've tried, but it wasn't scratchy either. We liked it, but it's not something I'll go out of the way to pay more for. The whole system is well worth trying, especially if you can get a deal on it! Regardless of which toilet paper you find fits with your family, I would really recommend the wet wipes above any other brand.

Left in the Dust

It's been a while since I last posted, and so much has happened, yet so much has stayed the same. A new baby on the way, the addition of SWAT to my husband's job title, and now the potential addition of another title. Yet, here I am, still a stay at home mother of three kids. I am still facing the same struggles with making ends meet, still having the same fights over nap times, still with the same dreams for a brighter future. It's amazing how life can go so fast in some aspects, leaving me feeling like I'm being left behind in a trail of dust, while other aspects make me feel like it's going so slow, I can see each spec of dust's every movement as it swirls almost non-movingly in front of my face.

Adjusting to my husband's previously non-existent SWAT team being formed and going live in only months left my head spinning. His schedule has never really been set, but knowing he can be called away from anything we're doing at any time isn't easy to get used to. It's unnerving and unsettling to say the least at times. My brain hasn't fully wrapped around everything that position entails. Luckily, so far, I haven't had to really worry about it either.

Then about a week ago, my husband came home and told me a new position opened up in his department. It is a detective position. There's only one in his department, but it is part of a much bigger team. A team that expands through several departments, big and small. He said he didn't really know if he was interested, but he'd like to talk to some people. Days went by, and I asked a few times. His interest didn't seem to go above bored observation.

Then he came home and his entire outlook had changed. His face lit up as he talked about the position. Another officer, one my husband respects very much, had talked with him about what the job was. Suddenly, my head was reeling again. From bored indifference to submitting his statement of interest in only a few short hours. I almost felt blindsided. He had answers for every question I asked, but still, I couldn't help having doubts. This would be another big change for our family.

One of my biggest concerns was overtime. We need it to make bills. The detective position doesn't offer a raise. It's a lateral promotion. My husband's answer was simple, but not nearly as comforting as I had hoped it would be. There would still be the same opportunities for overtime, plus some. There would be an extra hour in the morning if he so desired, and there would be one full week out of every five that he would be on call in addition to his 40 hour work week. He said the last guy that held the position sometimes got 50 hours of overtime in that week. Other weeks he could still get called out if more than the on-call detective was needed.

My concern began to shift. 90 hours away in a single week. Sometimes having to travel over three hours away to autopsies and spending the night away from our family. The on call for SWAT on top of that. This could kill our family. Our children need their father, but if he's working 90 hour weeks, sometimes they're not going to have him.

And what about my needs? I need a break too. I love my kids dearly, but a full week every few weeks with little to no help might just drive me over the edge. I also need to cuddle and talk with my husband. This job could take away my best friend for significant amounts of time. With a new baby on the way, that could be additionally hard.

Then there's my husband. What about him? Obviously he matters too. He doesn't want to be stuck in the same place for years to come. He wants and deserves to move up. This is a great opportunity for him to further expand and explore the part of his job that he loves the most. The investigation. The ability to put away the worst of the worst criminals. He already works hours and hours of overtime only to be frustrated when his suspects get little or no time in jail. The promotion could make his job more fulfilling.

So then, what is the answer? I have yet to even begin to wrap my head around it. I'm still way back here in the swirling pile of dust. Watching each particle as it slowly swirls around me, holding a mystery best left to the future.

Cheap Gas

Remember when gas was cheap enough that we didn't have to worry about going to a gas station that might have been a few cents higher than the one down the street? I don't know about you, but now I check the stations before I buy. No, I don't sit there and drive around town looking. That would just be a waste of gas. A friend of mine sent me this link quite a long time ago: http://autos.msn.com/everyday/gasstations.aspx?zip=&src=Netx
All you do is click and put in your zip code. Automatically, you have the prices for all (or most) of the gas stations in town. Be sure to check all the zip codes that are within your daily driving routine and the zips for nearby towns. I found that when I drive to the store in a different town, I drive the same distance and save $0.10/ gallon or more!

So Many Blessings

As I sit waiting for my two daughters to wake up, having just put my son down for his first nap, I smile and thank God for my life being the way it is. I see posts from my high school friends, and I realize all over again how good I really have it. One can't make bills, another is a single mother, a third has seen things that nobody should ever have to... the list goes on and on.

Every morning I get to wake up and spend one-on-one time with my son. It won't last, but for now, I roll out of bed to get up and feed him. As we sit there in the quiet morning, my mind drifts from thought to thought as my precious baby is curled up against me. He holds my hands and looks up trustingly as he nurses. If I look down and smile, I am rewarded with a big 2 1/2 tooth smile. He is my whole world, and I am his.

Throughout the day, all three children drive me crazy with their stunts. Climbing into the bassinet that needs to be tossed, but I can't because it was mine. Jumping from bed to bed, often hitting their legs off the ends of one toddler bed or the other. Once in a while fighting over something silly.

Then, all too quickly, another day has passed. It's time for bed. Who wants to say a prayer? You wouldn't believe the sweet things my children thank God for. A wonderful day. Mommy, Daddy, Sister, and Bub. Being happy. Being healthy. It's a reminder each day that I am blessed. Then kisses and hugs, tucked in to bed.

It never fails. A couple minutes later, a naked little two year old, who comes out of her room to say she's tired, but will not go to bed. She wants to cuddle. She wants kisses and hugs. She wants to be carried in like a princess at least a dozen times. A three year old that's hungry, even though she had a snack right before bed. She needs to eat, she needs to drink, she needs to potty again. Kisses and hugs, she wants to be carried like a princess and wrapped like a  burrito. They are what life is all about.

Finally, they fall asleep. Sadly, I look at how they've grown so quickly. Where have the days gone? The months? The years? Nothing lasts forever, but I wish this could last a little longer.

Then it's off to bed for me. Exhausted, I climb in next to the man that I still love with all of my heart and soul. A man that loves me back, and does his best to show it every day. A man that selflessly risks his life daily so that I can stay home with our babies. A man that will never leave us, will never be unfaithful, will never be untrue. He asks for so little. Only that we are happy.

When I look at the lives of my former classmates, I am thankful all over again. Thankful I didn't date who I prayed would notice me. Thankful I made the choices I did. Thankful that I am who I am, where I am, and how my life has turned out.

Living in a World Trying to Kill You

Up until a short time ago, I knew allergies were bad, but I never really understood how dangerous they are. Through talking with mothers of children that are deathly allergic to certain things, my rose colored glasses have been taken off.

When most people think of allergies, they think of somebody getting really swollen, maybe hives, and worst case scenario is an epi pen or trip to the hospital. It's really not that simple. The mothers of many children with allergies live in constant fear of what might happen to their children. Something as simple as not making sure something was sanitized can lead to a very scary, potentially deadly, trip to the hospital.

One mother I talk to frequently went on vacation with her family. They stayed with extended family all in one condo. Even after a few years of being told why her child can't have nuts, the extended family didn't understand the hazards. They were all sitting down enjoying their time together when the little boy began to swell up. Within a couple of minutes, he was having a very hard time breathing. EMS was called, an epi pen administered. A trip to the hospital, and they still aren't sure exactly what happened. It could have been something as simple as the knife used to make his sandwich hadn't been washed well after making a peanut butter sandwich.

Another mother discussed how her daughter was playing outside. The neighbors were having a cookout, which was a common occurrence. All of the sudden, the daughter was having a severe reaction to the smoke from the grill. The neighbors had been grilling clams, and the little girl is very allergic to shellfish. Again, an epi, a trip to the hospital, and she came home.

These children lived very close to hospitals. One thing people don't understand is that an epi's effects last only about 15 minutes. There is a reason many people carry two. The pens can't be left in a car because the heat could kill the medicine, and need to be replaced after a year. Bypassing any of these steps can kill.

We even had a bit of a scare. When Alyssa was younger, she stopped gaining weight. There was a three month period where she didn't gain an ounce, and she had gained very little before that. One of the things they tested for was a gluten allergy. That would mean no normal bread and no wheat products, we would have to be very careful about giving her hot dogs, and we would have to take special care in reading labels. Nothing could contain wheat, barley, rye, malts and triticale, some things used to flavor, and some things used to thicken foods. Looking at what would have to be taken out of her diet was scary. I cried about what we would have to be sure not to give her. She would never have a birthday cake or pizza. Accidental ingestion could lead to internal bleeding and could kill her. We were very lucky, and her tests came back clean. Many parents are not so lucky.

Before I knew all of this, I never understood why peanut butter was banned from schools. Now I understand. It's not just for that child that trades his ham sandwich for a PB&J. It's for the children that literally can't be in the same room. With allergies on the rise, this kind of instance is becoming more and more prevalent.

While some allergies are something that can't be avoided, studies show that part may stem from choices parents make from the start. Keeping your children off the ground and from getting dirty also keeps them from building a good immune system.  Breastfeeding children is one of the top recommendations for infants, and has been proven to reduce allergies, ear infections, and has so many more benefits. Even a few weeks makes a huge difference.

Encourage your kids to go outside to play. Let them play in the dirt. Breastfeed your children if you can. Research other great ways to reduce allergies. We all want our children to be happy, healthy, and to have better lives than we did, even if our childhood was perfect. Sometimes the best way to do that is the old fashioned way.

My Shining Star

June of 2008 was one of the best months of my life. My father and brother had come down to visit, and just happened to land on the days we needed them most. They watched Kaylee so J could be at my side and be there to welcome our second daughter into the world. Alyssa was born a beautiful, healthy little girl at 9lbs 4oz and 21 inches long. The hospital, at that time, let Kaylee come up to see her new baby sister, and she fell in love, a wonderful big sister from the start.

My husband was helping Kaylee in the bathroom, I believe while she was getting ready for bed, when he found a tick that would change my life. He removed it, and we watched for obvious symptoms of Lyme Disease.

That's when our world turned upside down. What should have been time for our entire family to bond with our new baby turned into a nightmare. Kaylee got a fever over 102, so we started giving her Tylenol. Then she got a bluish-purple rash that spread over her entire body, and her fever spiked higher, so J researched tick born illnesses, because we just knew it was something along those lines. Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever fit perfectly, so we made an appointment with our pediatrician, Dr. Cooper.

When we got to the appointment, Dr. Cooper did a thorough exam and was his normal, very caring self. We've had other pediatricians before, but he is the kind that you can only hope to find. The look on his face scared me. He knew too. He ordered blood work to confirm, but he knew. We were told to give Motrin, then 4 hours later Tylenol, and 4 hours later Motrin again. This was suppose to keep the fever under control. He said if it didn't or she got worse, call him and take her straight to the ER.

It did get worse. Kaylee's fever was over 105 when we made the call and headed to the hospital. It was a long, painful hour waiting to be called back, watching others get called who weren't in immediate need (like eight year old girl with no fever who wasn't throwing up now, but had been on and off a few days before.) After over an hour, Kaylee got up to check her temperature, which was now 105.4. Brain damage can start at 106. They made us go back out in the lobby and wait some more.

While we were waiting, Alyssa got hungry, and at the time I cared what other people thought about me nursing in public, so I took her to the bathroom to feed her. During that time, Kaylee got called back. When I went back out, they kept telling me not to bring Alyssa back because we didn't know what Kaylee had. I fought enough that they did let me back. They had no right to stop me, and there was no way I was going to be away from my daughter at that point.

They wanted to run all the blood work again, and they wanted to add a spinal tap. They made us leave the room for the tap. I will never forgive myself for letting them force me into the hall while six of them held down my 20 month old baby and did something so painful. We left our tiny baby girl in that room, screaming and fighting with no idea what was happening to her. It took several attempts to get the tap done, and we were finally allowed back in.

Not long after, we were told they were going to release us. The fever was not under control, nothing was fixed. Thankfully, Dr. Cooper had come to the hospital. He told them they would get Kaylee a room, and they would be giving her treatment. Then he came in to explain our choices. There were two medicines we could have them give her. The first would kill anything tick born that was causing the problem, but there was a chance that it could turn her teeth brown. The second wouldn't turn her teeth brown, but there was a chance it wouldn't kill what was making her sick. The blood work hadn't come back yet, so there was no 100% for what she had. His personal opinion, which I trusted my little girl's life to and would again without hesitation, was to go with the first. They came to move Kaylee into her room. Alyssa could not go into the pediatric department, so J held her while I went to see Kaylee before going home with Alyssa for the night.

For the next couple of days, one of us would stay with Alyssa while the other stayed with Kaylee. I pumped so Alyssa could remain exclusively breastfed, and we brought treats in hopes to get Kaylee to eat. By this point, it was almost impossible. Watermelon was our miracle food, because that was the only thing she would eat at all. The one time I remember at least a ghost of a smile that week was when one nurse explained that she had almost called the doctor thinking Kaylee was internally bleeding, then she saw the bowl of watermelon and realized that was what was in the diaper, not blood.

Kaylee got blood tests daily to see how her platelet count was doing. It started out pretty low and dropped for the next three days. Dr. Cooper's set of tests came back negative, but there was no waiver in the diagnosis. We had three additional pediatricians working with us at the hospital, and they were all amazed. As Dr. Cooper put it, Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever is one of those illnesses you learn about in med school, but never really expect to see. His last case had been over 10 years before, but many doctors will never see it. Her case was very interesting to them.

On day three, with the count getting dangerously low, one of the pediatricians I didn't know came in to talk to me. I remember only bits and pieces of what he said. I remember crying when he told me the count. 'want you to be prepared for internal bleeding...' 'may need a platelet transfusion...' 'considering moving her to the children's hospital in Baltimore...' 'medicine sometimes takes thee days to work, but ...'

She had one more day for her system to turn around. One day before they wanted to move her to a hospital over 3 hours away. We didn't have money for a hotel, so only one of us could go. Alyssa wouldn't be allowed in so I broke down again, knowing I would have to let my baby go lay in a hospital bed dying, and I wouldn't be able to be there with her. I held her like I did every other day. I cried and promised her she would be ok, and cried harder not knowing if I was telling her the truth. J's mom had driven over 8 hours to visit and she had given Kaylee a little stuffed puppy that played a few lines of 'Shining Star' by The Manhattans. Kaylee loved for us to push the button so the little star the doggie was holding would light up and the music would play. I sang to her through my tears, and I prayed even harder than I ever had before in my life. I begged God to help.

Day 4's blood work came back with amazing results! She was fighting, and by the grace of God, she was winning. We weren't out of the wood yet, but this is what they'd been hoping for, what we'd been praying for. She started asking for drinks and took a few bites of food here and there. Her fever was back down, and she had a little strength. For the first time, I believed when I told her she would be ok. My tears were tears of joy rather than fear and helplessness.

Day 5 came back high enough for her to be released. I can't even begin to explain how I felt that day. She still had to take her medicine a couple times a day for the rest of the 10 days, but she would be ok. Almost no pharmacies carry what we needed, but the hospital called around until they found one that did, and we were able to take our sweet little girl home. We were finally able to bond as a family.

Two years later, Dr. Cooper still calls her the amazing little girl and says the ordeal was really something. Two years later, I am still very, very thankful for everything he's done for us. The blood work never actually showed the cause, and most doctors of any type wouldn't have diagnosed and treated like he did. One more day could have killed my daughter. Instead, I have a beautiful, happy, playful three and a half year old. I still have nightmares about it and the song that little puppy played still makes me cry whenever I hear it, but I am so thankful that I also have a little girl that I can hold when I wake up. A little girl that I believe when she puts her arms around me and says, 'Mommy, it's going to be ok.'

Big Splash

Wow. It's so dead on my blog. lol I feel like I'm writing in my own personal diary.

Today I walked my husband out before he went to the range. Nothing really abnormal about it, except that this is practice for the SRT (Special Response Team, same as SWAT) training he will be doing. Normally I would have just been thinking about how hot he looked in black BDUs, with his duty belt on, AR-15 across his chest waiting for the other guy to pick him up so they could just ride in together. This time, I felt fear grip me. This time is the first step towards my husband becoming part of a SRT.

A while back he asked me what I thought about him being part of the team. Starting their own SRT is something he and his co-workers have been talking about since he got hired with his department over three and a half years ago. It is something I never thought would happen, so I said sure. Then he came home with the information. It is actually going to happen, and very quickly. Instead of slowly dipping my toes in the water, then working my way in, I'm getting launched head first from the high board, and I'm afraid of heights.

The part of me that knows what goes into police training knows this is a good thing. It's more training that he can use on his day to day calls. He gets called to assist other agency's SWAT teams now. This training will help to protect him and his co-workers better than before. The risks aren't high, and he will be part of a small town team, so he shouldn't be called in for it that often. Honestly, the benefits out weigh the risks by a lot. If anything, this training will reduce the chances of him getting hurt or killed in the line of duty.

SWAT is kind of like any other job. When you're going to bust down a door, you know dang well the people on the other side are going to be bad guys. In addition to all the training and preparation that goes into busting down the door, you're prepared for what is going to happen. It's a luxury cops don't get most of the time. Normal patrol means you don't know if Granny is going to come at you with nun chucks and a sawed off shotgun, so you have to try to keep your guard up while being polite all the time. In that way, it also makes SWAT seem like a good idea. I'd much rather know my husband is prepared going into a situation.

Then there is the nagging civilian part of me that has seen too many movies and has been out of the field for too long. It keeps saying 'but he could get hurt.' Well yeah, but he's a cop. He could get hurt any day he's working. The part responds with 'this is more dangerous.' No. It really isn't, but like a kid in a toy store, no matter how much I try to reason with the voice, it just won't give in!