Product Review: Dr. Scholl's For Her High Heel Insoles

I was excited to receive my Influenster Sunkissed Voxbox filled with beauty products but when I saw that I was now the proud owner of Dr. Scholl's For Her High Heel Insoles, I wondered, Do I even own a pair of heels? And with that opening sentence you fine readers are now in on a little secret: I am definitely not much of a lady. I like feeling pretty and all that jazz, but I need to be comfortable at the same time. Comfortable in my skin, comfortable in my clothes, comfortable in my shoes.



So here I was sitting in front of my newly opened, long-awaited, adorable Voxbox, my new goodies spread out on the floor ready to be photographed. I found a pair of heels in a storage bin in the basement--I'm not kidding when I say that they are the only pair I own and I didn't even know I owned them, heels are so uncomfortable--and inserted the gel insoles. These stick right to your shoe when you peel off the backing and they are clearly labeled: Heel Toe Left Right.





Dr. Scholl's For Her High Heel Insoles promise to improve the way you feel in heels. They certainly had their work cut out for them with my hatred of wearing heels. $10.99 is a small price to pay for a product if it changes the way I feel about tall, uncomfortable shoes.



To test these insoles out I set up a backdrop outside in the 90-degree heat and went to work. A photo shoot in heels. If I could feel comfortable wearing heels while posing in front of the camera, operating the camera, and chasing a naked potty-training 2-year-old around the yard, then I could see myself purchasing a second set of heels--and a second set of Dr. Scholl's insoles.



For the first few minutes I felt extremely awkward in my shoes. The gel felt hot and squishy as if I was stepping in a mud field, albeit a comfortable mud field. But by the end of the photo shoot I was able to run and hop and jump in my heels and my feet weren't feeling awful.



So, would I recommend these Dr. Scholl's For Her High Heel Insoles? I actually would. Especially if you're on your feet all day in heels. I wish I had a product like this when I worked for Corporate America and actually had to wear heels for ten hours, five days a week. These insoles probably would've made me feel much better at the end of a long day.



I received these products complimentary from Influenster for testing purposes. All opinions are my own.

Sick baby

Dylan is on the mend, Sean's been battling the "man cold" since Thursday, and Kate woke up so, so sick today. Stuffy, coughing, fevery baby. She's doing better tonight than she was this morning but I hope she is able to sleep comfortably and heal whatever virus is plaguing my loves.

Environmental fail

This is how recycling day works: the truck comes every two weeks--Friday mornings at 9:30AM. Sean puts our giant blue bin out on the curb on Thursday night. But yesterday he came home from work sick and plopped onto the couch and so our recycling bin never made it to the street.

Fast forward to this morning. Katie woke up just as sick as Sean and so I was downstairs on the couch feeding her a bottle. Sean came downstairs after his shower wearing only pants and noticed that the recycling truck was two houses down from us already! Two hours early!

"We're going to miss recycling unless you can get the bin outside in time for the truck, it's here already and I'm not dressed!"

I was half-dressed--jeans and a shirt, no bra and no shoes--but I was determined to succeed. I gently threw the baby at Sean and rushed outside. But the truck was moving along fast and so I started shouting, "WAIT! WAIT!" as I manhandled this giant blue bin down our driveway. The truck was at our neighbor's house and I was on my way towards him. I noticed the driver was wearing earphones and was not looking at me as I shlept the monstrosity towards the street.

And then it was over. He drove past our house. I had not made it.

Defeat swept over me and I turned around and dragged the thing back towards the house. Little Dylan's head was poking up from the window watching me. I looked over at our neighbor's kitchen window and my neighbor and her kids were smiling and waving. I tried to hide my pointy boobs and my shame as I waved back. Defeat. Serious defeat.

With shoulders slumped I walked back inside and announced, "I didn't make it."

"You do know that thing has wheels right? My love was dragging it like a giant brick!" Sean joked.

And then do you know what I did? I bawled like a baby. Sean gave me a hug and a you'll gettum next time speech, thrown off guard because his wife was crying like a total luny over a bin of recycling.

"I'm so embarrased!" I said through tears. "The neighbors were laughing at me! And I'm outside with no bra on like some total idiot!" I walked into the bathroom and began picking up the kids' clothes from last night's bath. Dylan trailed behind me.

"Don't cry, Mama. You're OKay. Is this a bandaid? Can you go get my truck?"

Helluva way to start a Friday, I thought. A sick baby and a whole shit ton of defeat.

We are now watching a movie while Katie sleeps, and I've all but forgotten how upset I was about the recycling. What a weirdo. I cried over not being able to recycle.

In sickness and in doctor visits

Here's what's happening with us:



3 out of 4 of us are sick. Dylan has croup, Katie has a slight cough, and Sean came home from work today feeling like his head was a balloon. So far I am feeling fine--knock on wood--and thankfully so because I need to be well to take care of my loves.

I saw my new endocrinologist this afternoon and suddenly I feel like I have so much more control of my health. I'm feeling well on my new 150mg of Synthroid, my doctor actually looks at me instead of down at his computer, my bloodwork is coming back close to normal. Things on the cancer front are looking up.



The office is old and worn down, but friendly. My doctor has been practicing endocrinology and specializing in thryoid disorders for 32 years.




My old doctor would put his hands on my neck, talk to me for about two minutes, type away in his computer while I sat there, and then I'd leave. I spent two hours at my new doctor's office today, chatting with the nurse about kids and calcium and then sitting down with the doctor to talk about my entire medical history as he wrote it down and talked about reports out of the New Yorker. We chatted about different medical opinions on the treatability of Lyme disease, affects of tachy brady syndrome, the medical path we will be taking on my cancer journey. It felt more like I was sitting down with a colleague discussing health trivia than a doctor/patient visit. He was thorough and took the time to talk to me about any health concerns.

And then he did the coolest thing ever. While examining me--and I mean actually taking the time to examine my heart and lungs and throat--he had me drink water while pressing hard on my throat to see if he could feel any thyroid remnants when I swallowed. He couldn't, obviously, since I don't have a thyroid but I thought it was so cool that he took the time to evaluate me instead of just relying on my lab results.

*

On the potty training front, Dylan is doing great! We have 1-2 accidents a day since starting to potty train on Friday and I've learned that he doesn't realize that he is wearing underwear instead of a diaper now and then so he goes and then acts shocked and sorry about wetting his pants. Poor kid. So I've been letting him run around the house naked all week and he has been awesome. We started a sticker reward chart and when he goes on the big boy potty 12 times he gets a prize.



Today he went twelve times on the potty just so that he could earn a prize before bedtime. Since he had earned his quota on Tuesday and Wednesday I took him to Target this morning for a special present: a giant truck. From now on he will be earning toys valued at about $1, but for the first reward we wanted to make it a huge incentive. Dylan likes nothing more than trucks. And so this morning as soon as we woke up we headed out the door where he purchased a car carrier--his third--complete with tiny monster trucks, street signs, and traffic cones.

This is what $19.99 worth of 2-year-old happiness looks like:



And here is what $0 of toddler happiness looks like:



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Everyone else is asleep. I'd better go put this cute little duckling to bed, too.

 

Product review: Goody Hair Ouchless Ribbon Elastics

I signed up with Influenster.com last month and have been having a blast taking surveys and writing product reviews. Shortly after I signed up I qualified to receive my first Voxbox and had been checking our mailbox daily.



My Sunkissed Voxbox arrived on Monday morning, the day I was fitted with a heart monitor. As a stay-at-home-mom, purchasing beauty products is not top on my list of priorities--getting in a daily shower is as fancy as I get most days--so this Sunkissed Voxbox showing up in my mailbox was beyond exciting.

When the kids were napping I threw on a sweatshirt to hide the electrodes from my heart monitor and spent the next few hours trying out my new goodies in front of the camera.  If you'd like to see a video of what was in Influenster's Sunkissed Voxbox, check it out here or stay tuned here on the blog for more reviews.



And speaking of goodies, these are Goody's Ouchless Ribbon Elastics and they are my new favorite hair elastic. These elastics are soft and stretchy and come in a variety of great colors. I was skeptical that they wouldn't stay in my hair because it is so fine, but these awesome new ribbon elastics work just as great as thin elastics.



I love the Goody brand and have used their thin elastics for years. The problem I have with the thin elastics is when I take my hair down--especially before bed--I wear them around my wrist and I wake up with sore elastic marks. I often take off my hair elastic at night and put it on my nightstand and when I brush my teeth in the morning I simply reach for a new elastic. Picture a pile of hair elastics by my bed. My hair elastics end up everywhere around our house and since I buy so many of them, most end up in the trash or in my car or in a bin under the bathroom sink. I rarely wear one hair elastic for more than a day or two. Until now.

On Monday afternoon I removed one purple hair elastic from the package and I have been wearing it since! Eureka! A perfect hair elastic and an empty nightstand.



Aren't these neat?



My 1980's Cyndi Lauper hairdo:



I might've had a little too much fun playing with my new elastics.



One major pet peeve of mine is having to Photoshop hair elastics out of photos. This happens more than you'd think. I make a mental note to check my wrists whenever I'm in front of a camera and to check my subjects for hair elastics when I am behind the lens.

There are no more hair elastic photo bombs with Goody's Ouchless Ribbon Elastics! They double as fashionable bracelets!

Before:



And after, using a Goody Hair Ouchless Ribbon Elastic:

These ribbon elastics cost $3.99 - $4.99. I'd definitely recommend them.

I received these products complimentary from Influenster for testing purposes. All opinions are my own.

Lub Dub, Lub Dub

Two weeks ago I spent two-and-a-half hours at the doctor's office--shirtless--as a nurse made three hundred attempts to get this holter monitor to work. She'd hold up her cheat sheet, stick a few stickies on my chest, attach the electrodes color-by-color, turn on the monitor, wait for the blinking green light.... yellow, yellow, yellow.... remove all electrodes, remove batteries, remove memory card, reattach stickies and electrodes, wait for the blinking green light.... still flashing yellow, rinse and repeat. After that unsuccessful appointment I was glad to hear that I wouldn't need to go back for some time to try again to put on this heart monitor.

This morning was round 2, and the nurse was able to get the thing to work on the second try.

Of course two weeks ago we weren't in this heatwave.

This monitor is just a precaution, really, because every time I go into the hospital for thyroid cancer issues my heart overreacts and I'm hooked up to a bunch of EKG machines and blood pressure cuffs. When I mentioned to my PCP that I have pretty rough palpitations now and then he prescribed a 24-hour holter monitor "just to be safe".

And since heart disease is a number one killer of women, I am more than happy with being safe. Especially because I experience heart pain often and am hypocalcemic. A lack of calcium affects muscles, the heart included.



I'm supposed to be writing down all of my activities for the next 24-hours, recording all exercise (yeah right), resting periods (fingers crossed I get eight hours tonight), sexual activity (who would have sex while wearing a heart monitor??), and the like. Here's what I've got written down so far:

10:30AM: took the kids for a walk in the thousand-degree weather to the town hall. Pushed one child in a stroller while wearing a baby in a moby wrap.
11:30AM - 3PM: Photo shoots and wrestling kids to eat lunch, wash hands, use potty, etc. etc.
3:00 - 6PM: Played with kids, watched movie, had dinner. Blah blah blah.
7:46PM: Son took first poop in the big boy potty on his own. No assistance. I expect to go absolute tachycardic at 7:46.

And now it's time for rest.

Jumping on the supermoon bandwagon

I've got the potty training blues

Yesterday Dylan decided that he was no longer going to wear "baby diapers'...because they're for babies. Phew! That was all I needed to hear to get the potty training train a-rolling, he needs to be out of diapers before he starts school in August anyhow. I stashed his diapers away in the closet and said, "That's it! No more baby diapers, buddy!" and he went the rest of the day without incident. Earlier in the day I knew he had to poop and I asked him if he wanted to go in the potty. He replied "No" and went in his diaper. But being two-and-a-half going on thirty, Dylan ran into the bathroom, took off his soiled diaper, and flushed his poop down the toilet. Um. Great job, kiddo! So here we are without diapers. We took a family trip to the store this morning to buy big boy underwear by the dozens and he sort of melted down when we tried to get him to use the bathroom in Target. I agree, public toilets are way scary, sweetheart.



I knew before I had children that potty training was going to be harder on me than it would be on my kids. When I was five a neighbor boy peed on a tree in our backyard and I lost. my. shit. I cried, screamed, stomped my feet, until my mother came outside and I told her that, gasp, MICHAEL PEED ON OUR TREE! I told my neighbor friend that I hated him for peeing on that tree and that I never wanted to see him again. My mother stood there helpless, feeling awful for Michael who had just done what little boys are supposed to do outside, and watching me completely meltdown.

I've got a touch of obsessive compulsive disorder when it comes to germs and excrement and things out of order. Always have. Just thinking about my dogs prancing around in the same grass they pee in and then walk into our home makes me wish we didn't have dogs at all, and so I try not to think about where those paws have been. I won't touch a public doorknob if I can help it, and if I have to touch it I seek out the spot on the handle where people would be less likely to grab. I once had a fight with a then-boyfriend when we were hiking because he peed on a spot where I wanted to take pictures. I'm telling you, I've got a pee issue.

And I'm really weird about it. I can handle all bodily functions if I am in Mama mode--I'll be the first to hold my loved one's hair should they vomit and I can change a million diapers--but if there is a chance I might step in the vomit or the pee then I am totally freaked out. I turn into that five-year-old version of myself and mentally stomp my feet at the prospect that there is pee somewhere I might accidentally touch someday.

When I ask my husband to wash our son's hands and he squirts a dab of antibacterial hand sanitizer on them, I cringe hard. Those fingers that our kid just stuck up his own butt are totally still dirty, sweetheart.

SO here is my sweet little preschooler learning how to use the big boy potty. He's working so hard on trying to get to the potty when he has to go, but he has had two accidents already today. This is new and I keep trying to encourage him that he really is doing such a great job despite a few misses. I got him this truck today and told him that big boys get to play with big trucks and suddenly his car carrier wants to accompany Dylan into the bathroom on each attempt.



How do parents do this, like, seriously? We birth these tiny humans who completely depend on us and need help wiping their little butts and figuring out how to eat and sit and walk and talk and learn and suddenly they need us to teach them how to be self sufficient. I mean, pee on a big boy potty? Where is the owners manual for this? I know I need to relax and not stress Dylan out with my obsessive--"Do you have to go potty? Do you have to go potty now? Do you have to go potty yet?"--chatter but I really don't know what the hell I'm doing. However, until I am able to fondly look back on these potty training days when they are nothing but a distant memory, I will be Dylan's biggest cheerleader and support him in his big boy endeavor; despite hating every second of potty training I really am so so proud of my favorite little man.

"I am the Lorax, I speak for the trees."

Katie started solid foods today! She went for her 4-month well-baby visit this morning. She weighs 13.8 pounds and is 25" long. That's 75% for height and 50% for weight. Big brother weighed in at 28.2 pounds. Kate loved her sweet potatoes.

Missing my gram

Slow down, baby

Katie Rhea turned four--FOUR--months old today. This morning when we woke up she rolled over for the first time!



And later in the day she worked just as hard to sit up for a few seconds.



I spent the rest of the day trying to get her to roll over on camera so that Sean can see it, but she only rolled on her own that one time upon waking.

Here's a video of her rolling with a little help. I love how proud she gets once she is on her belly.



Kathleen, you need to slow down a bit, babe. I'm not ready for you to grow up so fast. You're already sleeping through the night, trying to find your mobility, and getting ready for solid foods. I want you to stay my little baby forever, but no matter how old you get you will always be my sweet little girl.

My mountain goat and my black sheep

Sean is away for work this week and so I am here with our kids at home. Sean beamed with excitement the night before he left as he talked about how his company was sponsoring a night of rock climbing and read off warnings on a worn out sheet of paper: Watch for rattlesnakes at the base of the mountain. How reassuring.

I sometimes roll my eyes when others talk about how perfect their families are or how unconditionally they love their significant others, but the truth is I am beyond in love with my husband and our babies. To the point where I love them so much I am petrified to lose them. My family is my world. I love my husband more and more every second of each day and when I think I can't love him any more than I do, I find myself loving him more than that. And our kids? These tiny little hearts of ours? They are my air.

As Sean prepared to board his flight I held my breath. My two breaths.

When he reached the top of the mountain on his rock climbing expedition yesterday he sent us a photo of his view.



And look at him climbing that mountain! I am so proud of my love.



As for here, we are doing just fine. My two dearest friends came over today with their babes.







Dylan read his nightly Mother Goose on camera tonight. Gahh, he's cute!



I want to remember our little bedtime story moments for always, to hear a two-year-old Dylan recite his favorite Baa Baa Black Sheep over and over because he doesn't want to go to sleep. Sean will be home tomorrow and we will be waiting for him with Mother Goose bells on our toes.

And only then will I be able to exhale.

So I spoiled him

We took a trip to our local Savers this morning with the intent of buying a DVD for Dylan as a special treat. We walked out of that store with a new Little Tikes truck AND a Little Tikes tractor. Since it was secondhand I spent $20 for both and Dylan beamed with excitement. I still can't believe I was able to fit both of the vehicles in my car.

Here is Dylan's in-store test drive:



Needless to say we spent hours in the backyard driving his new (used) wheels.




Dylan loved that Kate and I drove the tractor.





It feels nice to spoil Dylan. Especially when he is so very excited over beaten old toys.