Playing With Fire

I want to go outside and do dangerous things. Does that make me a bad mother?

For days now, I've been blowing my nose, nursing my cough and forcing food down my throat even though I have no appetite at all. For someone who doesn't handle being sick very well, I go big when I bother to catch a virus.

Because I spent almost three days only getting out of bed to go to the kitchen or bathroom, I was dying to get out of the house yesterday afternoon even though I still felt terrible. I needed some fresh air on my face and a change of scenery. I went with Roy and two of his friends to watch them play racquetball in a gym on campus.

I wouldn't call myself an athletic person. I like to swim and play a few sports just for fun, but I just don't have the competitive drive essential to great athletes. But when I saw three guys smacking a rubber ball around a small room, I wanted to do nothing more than join in. I sat in the viewing area, sniffling and hacking, wondering why I wanted to play all of a sudden. Then I realized I had fallen victim to a classic dilemma: I want what I can't have.

Sick people should not play aggressive sports that require lot of movement and heavy exertion. Pregnant women should not partake in any activity in which small rubber balls may or may not collide with flesh. I have absolutely no business running around and risking a nasty bruise or two, but I couldn't get my mind off the idea for a long time.

Photo: Me and Carly rock jumping at our dad's lake house on Rough River Lake. Serious amounts of fun.

To put it simply- I want to play. I want to go outside and play volleyball in the sand. I want to go to a swimming pool and jump off the high dive. I want to be able to fall down and get back up like it's just no big deal.

I'm not used to being this vulnerable. I may just have a bad case of spring fever, but I can't help feeling a hint of frustration that I'm not as physically resilient as I used to be. I understand that I'm sharing my body with a precious baby right now, and I would never do anything that might pose even the smallest threat to her. All I'm saying is that I miss being able to take a hit.

I'm looking forward to a day when I'm not as fragile as a Fabergé egg, but in the meantime, you can find me in the backyard firing my BB gun at whatever I can get my swollen little hands on.

Sick Daze

I always wondered what it would be like to be on bed rest while pregnant. Now I know.

While I'm not technically on bed rest, illness has confined me to the sheets for the last couple days. I've only left twice- once to go to Student Health Services and once to venture out for food. I look terrible, feel terrible, sound terrible.

Two nights ago, I started feeling an annoying little tickle in my throat. I thought nothing of it at the time. I woke up the next morning feeling like I had swallowed a sword. I dragged myself out of bed to go to the doctor wearing my UK t-shirt from the night before and my hair un-brushed. I'll admit, hearing the nurse say, "You look so cute with your belly!" was a welcome distraction from the burning in my throat.

I had to fill out a form explaining my reasons for visiting Student Health Services. It asked me questions about my symptoms and such, which I found trickier to answer than they used to be. "Have you been experiencing any fatigue?" Yes, (but I'm pregnant. I always feel fatigued.) "Does any part of your body hurt?" Yes, (feet, legs, hips, boobs, neck, back. You name it, it hurts.)

My time in the exam room went something like this: "Are you having a boy or a girl? Have you had a fever? Is everything normal with your stomach? Are you taking any medications? Have you thought of a name yet?"

In the end, they couldn't diagnose me with anything specific. My temperature was normal. My blood pressure was within range. My strep test was negative. I went back to Roy's house for a shower thinking it might make me feel a little better. The cricket clinging to the bathroom wall, however, did exactly the opposite. After swatting at it for 10 minutes, I hosed off and crawled back to bed. Hoping to only suffer a 24-hour bug, I went to sleep last night hoping to wake up improved.

Denied. The only difference between yesterday morning and today is that this time, I woke up with a sore throat, a runny nose, a headache, muscle cramps and a lost appetite. Getting out of bed to wash my face and brush my teeth felt like torture. Going to the grocery for food I didn't want to eat was worse.

It used to be that I could get sick and not eat if I didn't feel like it. Hell, I used to get away with being perfectly healthy and not eating. Not any more. Just because I feel like I got hit by a car, baby girl still needs the same care I always give.

So I stayed in bed, took some baby-friendly medicine and watched reruns of "Spartacus: Blood and Sand" on Netflix. Nothing makes me feel better quite like seeing a bunch off gladiators hack at each other in the midst of some delicious Ancient Roman drama.

As awful as I may feel, I'm enjoying having some extra spare time to stare down at my belly while it pops and rolls every time my daughter kicks. You might call it a sick day. I call it quality time.

Dream Sequence

I can remember dreaming that a dinosaur was chasing me around a barn when I was little. I can remember waking up frustrated after a dream that I had accumulated a ten-pound bag of candy but didn't stay asleep long enough to eat a single piece. I have an active imagination, and sleeping is no reprieve. Lately, I've had more dreams than I can count about my baby.

I've been dreaming about the baby since I found out I was pregnant in November. At first, they were the silliest, most unrealistic dreams imaginable.

Some time in December, I had a dream that I had given birth to a baby boy, (this was before I knew the gender) and every time I tried to bathe him, he gradually shrunk into a gingerbread man. I resigned to stop giving him baths in an effort to save my cinnamon-scented little boy.

One night last month, I was dreaming that I was in the process of giving birth, and my doctor was just standing in the corner of the room making me do everything by myself. She came out perfectly healthy, but I didn't want to turn her over to the negligent hospital staff.

Last night, I had a dream that my daughter was bizarrely strong for a newborn and I only wanted to feed her strawberries. In my dream, I kept making trip after trip to the grocery store to buy more strawberries, an especially difficult task since I had to pick through mounds of them to find the most perfectly red ones for baby girl.

I once read that pregnant women go through different stages of dreams for each trimester. I'm not sure if that's true, but I can say from experience that pregnancy brings with it a trip through the looking glass. If my dreams have been any indication, then motherhood is going to be a wild ride.

Frankly, I can't wait.

Bump Watch- 24 Weeks

Sitting in my media ethics class two days ago, I was surprised when a classmate walked in, took a look at me and said, "You're looking especially big and pregnant today!"

Yesterday I took a test in my merchandising class. When I turned it in, the professor said, "You're really showing now. You weren't very big before, but now you are."

Last night, a girl in my dorm was looking over her shoulder as she walked toward me and accidentally flung her hand into me. The look on her face was priceless, as if she had just committed involuntary manslaughter. She looked at her friend, mouth agape, and cried, "She's pregnant! One pregnant girl in the whole building and I hit her!"

She only tagged me in the arm, but that's probably because I completely cover my belly if I sense even the slightest amount of danger. I saw this poor girl several more times throughout the evening, and she asked me if I was OK every time.

Apparently I've gone from "pregnant" to "very pregnant." Here's why:

24 Weeks

She's taking over my body! This is big mama's house now.

I love watching my belly grow every week, but I just have one frightening thought: How big am I going to be in another two weeks? Two months?!

Empire State of Mind

Last week was my very last Spring Break ever. (Cue the pouty face.) I am formally exhausted, but I can honestly say I had a fantastic time with my little girl in my belly. We went to the Big Apple!

Mom and I left for New York very early on Friday morning. When she woke me up at 5:15 a.m., I only had a minute or two to stretch out and open my eyes before baby started kicking like mad, as if to say "Good morning, mom! When's breakfast?"

Our flight left at 7:24, and even though I was prepared to swell up like a float at the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade, I didn't think nausea would be a problem. Boy was I wrong. As soon as the plane started moving, I felt a horrible wave of what felt like first trimester morning sickness. I spent the entire two-hour flight adjusting the air conditioning and clutching a vomit bag like it was a security blanket.

Safely on the ground, Mom and I checked into our hotel room and spent the day roaming Manhattan. We went to sleep completely exhausted every night, crashed in our fluffy Grand Hyatt beds.

A trip to New York isn't complete without a few purchases, and I'm especially pleased with my acquisitions from this vacation:

From my favorite Asian novelty store in SoHo, I got a dozen different colored butterflies made of feathers to hang above the baby's crib. I had been contemplating making my own mobile for quite some times, and when I saw the butterflies, they seemed like a great idea. Here's what they look like:Usually when I go to New York, I come back with an assortment of impractical items. This time, I wanted something I would be able to enjoy for a long time to come. I decided to put together a small coffee mug collection- one from the Anthropologie at Rockefeller Center, one from Bloomingdale's on the Upper East Side, one from Pearl River in SoHo, and one from the Dean and Deluca on Broadway. These are my favorite stores to visit in New York, and I'm savoring the idea of sipping coffee from each unique mug when I can have caffeine again. This is the one from Anthropologie:
My only other purchase for myself was a $10 purse from a tiny marketplace just off the street north of SoHo. I rationalized the purchase like this: 1) It's a long shoulder bag that will stay on even when I'm carrying a baby around. 2) If it gets a hole in the bottom or the baby spits up on it, I won't care because it was cheap.

Mom got me some beautiful white rose-shaped knobs from Anthropologie to replace the ugly ones on the crib. This may seem like a bizarre New York purchase, but believe me when I say it's important. She also got the baby's very first stuffed animal, an undefinable pink, blue and purple striped creature made out of socks. Finally, she picked up a gray wife beater and black karate pants from American Apparel for my daughter. I can't wait to see her dressed up as a little hoodrat.

Now that I'm back in Lexington, I know the tail end of the semester is going to fly by. I got a rude awakening yesterday afternoon when I realized I only have one week left in my second trimester, and then we're rounding third. Now is the time to finalize my registry and organize a baby shower, among many other things. The pressure is most certainly on. I was feeling some especially painful pangs of stress last night, which were only alleviated when I felt my little girl hiccuping in my belly.

Sometimes I just have to remind myself that the world keeps turning, and in the meantime, I can look forward to sipping coffee from a mug that gives it just the slightest taste of a spring break well spent.

Pushing My Buttons

I haven't paid this much attention to my belly button since I begged my parents to let me get it pierced when I was 16.

Sometimes I can't tell how much my belly has grown in the last week, but I found a surefire barometer in my otherwise unimportant navel. If I look at it in the mirror, I can see how stretched out it has gotten. Sometimes you can even catch me bent over trying to get a good look at it up close. Every week, it pulls wider in harmony with my growing midsection.

In the last month, I've seen the greatest amount of development since my pregnancy began. Belly growth is definitely exponential. You see almost nothing for months, and then all of a sudden, that little baby is taking up more space and energy than you thought possible for an unborn human.

I can't speak for all mothers, but the halfway point marked a lot of changes for me. I stopped looking just a little chubby around the middle and started to scream "pregnant" to anyone who notices. I started feeling kicks around 20 weeks as well.

More fun changes? Bone stretching. Yeah, I said it. My bones are stretching apart.

I always knew I never developed "childbirthing" hips during the zillion years I spent going through puberty. Let's be honest- I kept a pre-puberty body well past the age of 20. Who knew it would take pregnancy to make me look like an actual woman? Unfortunately, I'm now suffering through the growing pains I never had as a teenager.

I have no problem letting my body do what it needs to do for this baby. But damn, feeling my pelvic bones expand is unpleasant. Last week, I thought I was bruised in the space where my hips meet my back. Not a speck of purple to be found. That spot is just baby girl's latest acquisition in her quest to dominate my figure.

Lots of body parts change during pregnancy: belly button, hips, bones, back, butt, boobs, feet... What do they have in common? They get bigger, and all of them hurt.

Except the belly button. It just looks silly.

Cheers!

I'm having a hard time not laughing at the irony that you can only have virgin drinks at a time when virginity is very clearly non-present.

If the doctor's time estimations are correct, I was just barely pregnant when I turned 21 years old. I had been anticipating that birthday for quite some time, and not even for the alcohol priveleges. I just looked forward to the end of being too young for something. I loved 16 because I could drive and 18 because I could vote. Naturally, 21 was right up my alley.

As soon as the window on the pregnancy test faded into a positive sign, I knew my life would be permanently altered in a lot of big ways. But pregnancy is also about learning to make small sacrifices. I enjoyed a glass of wine. I liked downing an Irish car bomb with friends. I loved sipping on a white russian. Not any more.

When I told my cousin, Rachel, that I was pregnant in November, she said, "Well, your days of enjoying 21 were short lived."

I don't miss taking too many shots and losing my ability to walk like a normal upright Homo sapien. Instead, my nostalgia is generated by not being able to drink something special- something unique from water, milk or apple juice. So far, however, I've found a few ways to take the edge off.

This past weekend, I went to Gatlinburg with Roy and 10 friends, all of whom were of legal drinking age and definitely not pregnant. So when they started cracking open beers after dinner, I would stir up a couple quarts of Kool Aid. I'm not saying my favorite black cherry concoction is the healthiest beverage available, but it never fails to please.

When the other girls at the cabin brought a glass of wine with them to the hot tub, I microwaved a mug of apple cider. Since I could only stick my legs in the water, the rest of my body stayed out in the cold Smoky Mountain air. A dose of cider, however, warmed me up like I was bikini-clad and neck-deep in the steaming water as well.

If you're looking to mix something up, try sparkling water and fruit juice. I love to play cards, so while all the guys were drinking bourbon and cokes, I swallowed up some sparkling water and fruit juice. I'm pretty sure Roy gave me tonic water, pineapple juice and orange juice before I played countless hands of euchre. While the citrus didn't exactly quelch my acid reflux, it was delicious.

I'm beginning to learn that thing are only as good as you make them. If you only dwell on what you can't have, you'll have a hard time appreciating the amazing things pregnancy offers. Total sobriety means I can feel every single kick because my mind is always clear. More importantly, it means I'll have a healthy little girl.

If that doesn't convince you, try this on for size: Kool Aid, cider and fruit juice are much, much cheaper than alcohol. What college student doesn't love to save cash?

Bump Watch- 22 Weeks

Here comes baby! Seems like every day, I look down at my belly and it's staring back at me with intimidating resolution. It makes sense that a baby big enough to fill this belly can deal out some intense kicks. She's doing somersaults as I type. :)

22 weeks

Once Upon a Time...

In the grand scheme of the human race, I'm not very interesting. Countless people have come before me and carried out lives that make mine look extremely watered down. Nonetheless, I have a story, and a surprising number of people ask me about the dynamics leading up to my pregnancy. So I apologize if this is an especially dull blog post, but these are some noteworthy facets of my life story:

My mom told me for years that I learn everything the hard way. I used to think she said that because I was a rebellious teenager. I sneaked out of the house on school nights, got my first tattoo a month after turning 18, sat in detention every week and disregarded authority whenever I could. Some people might say I was a handful. Roy will tell you that I'm still a handful. I would use words like "headstrong" or "willful," but I probably am, in fact, a handful.

Photo, left: This is a picture of me circa Fall, 2007.
I'm breaking lots of school rules here. I had my cell phone out, I was chewing gum, and my shirt was untucked.

Photo, right: This is me at a high school soccer game. I had just gotten busted earlier that day for sneaking out of the house the night before.

I never wanted to go to college in Kentucky. I was born and raised in Louisville, and throughout high school I mused about getting away from the Bluegrass state. Fall of 2007 meant it was time to send out college applications. I had been looking at schools in Missouri, South Carolina, Illinois, Wisconsin and Georgia- anywhere but Kentucky.

Then, like an idiot, I fell for the classic trap. I entered my first serious relationship months before turning 18 and thought I was set for life. I didn't want to be away from my boyfriend even if it did mean surrendering my college ambitions. I sent out five applications, and the furthest school from home was in Indiana. He dumped me by Thanksgiving, and so I chose to enroll at UK with my tail between my legs.

By the spring of my senior year, I was newly infatuated. My then-boyfriend was going to school for a two-year degree, and I couldn't imagine being stuck in college twice and long as he would be. So before I even made it to my freshman orientation, I firmly decided that I would finish college in three years. Naturally, that relationship ended as well, but I was still on the three-year plan.

The average college student changes his or her major at least once, and many spend a year as "undecided." I knew from the very start that I wanted to major in journalism. Even though my friends and family wanted me to focus on broadcast, I stuck with my true love (writing) and opted for print classes.

In January of last year, I received an email from a well-spoken yet palpably sarcastic copy editor at the school newspaper, the Kentucky Kernel. I had written for the paper before, but this particular individual was looking to assemble a copy editing team. The idea of editing other people's stories intrigued me, so I responded to this "Roy York."

We were a couple by Valentine's Day. We endured our share of scandal at the paper. There's nothing like a newsroom romance to get people talking. Roy quit the paper before the end of the semester, and I only showed up to do the work required of me and nothing else. I spent the summer hopping between Louisville and Lexington to balance my job and love life.

Photo: Me and Roy at King's Island last summer. We had just left the water park and were completely exhausted. I drove back to Louisville that night to be at work the next day.

Our relationship went under just before Labor Day, but we continued dating for months amid our unwavering hostility. We were both floored when we discovered my pregnancy halfway through November. It's amazing how a baby can make you reevaluate your life and focus on what matters.

Photo: I was barely pregnant when this photo was taken and I had no idea. Hardly mother material.

In the same vein that I believe I learn everything the hard way, I'm beginning to think that everything really does happen for a reason. If I hadn't made certain decisions in years past, I wouldn't have gone to UK and met Roy, and I wouldn't be expecting a baby. I also wouldn't be graduating early just two months before my due date. I don't regret the pieces of my story that brought me to where I am.

If someone had told me back in my rebellious high school days that in three years I would be in a relationship and expecting a baby with a law student at UK, I wouldn't have believed it. Life works in mysterious ways, and I can't even fathom where I'll be three more years from now.

Smoke Alarm

"How do you know that?" is a question I hear rather frequently. I love to talk, and if given the opportunity, I will discuss any topic any time. Where do I get my fact-based evidence? I read- a lot.

As a journalism student, I find myself on news-related Web sites at least several times a day. I like to know things, and I would rather hunt down stories on my own instead of having them presented to me on television according to newsroom priorities. Lately, I've been keeping a close eye on the health section of CNN. You'd be surprised how many stories are relevant to pregnancy and infants.

Today, I saw an article titled, "Pregnant women: Secondhand smoke can harm your unborn baby." No kidding.

I always thought it was obvious that pregnant women shouldn't take in breaths of smoky air or stroll through opium dens, but what I didn't know were the exact statistics. According to CNN's article, secondhand smoke exposure increases a non-smoking pregnant woman's chances of delivering a stillborn by 23 percent. The same exposure increases the risk of birth defects by 13 percent. I'm no math genius, but those percentages seem way too high for me not to care.

In November 2009, the University of Kentucky adopted a non-smoking campus rule. Tobacco products are prohibited on all areas of campus, including parking zones. Much to my chagrin, I see people smoking on campus every single day, including UK employees. One of the more entertaining sights on UK's grounds was a person standing right next to a "No Smoking" sign while he or she lit up. Not so funny any more.

I understand that pregnant women and smokers have to coexist in this world, but can't I at least take solace in knowing that the campus where I live and go to class every day won't pose an issue? I've been asthmatic since I was 7 years old, but cigarette smoke never rattled my chains quite like it does now.

If you're a smoker and reading this, I hope you don't feel like this is a personal attack. My sincere plea is that you don't smoke in places where you're not supposed to, because plenty of people, pregnant or not, rely on those areas to be smoke-free.

If not for me, do it for the babies. :)

To Have and To Know

I've compiled a list of things expecting mothers should have in their mommy arsenals. Though most of them are not crucial, I've found that in my 21 weeks of experience, they can be quite convenient. I've also included information for friends and loved ones of mamas-to-be so they can get a grasp on what to get her if inclined to do so. The links will take you straight to the products I'm talking about. Be sure to read the side notes!

1. Prenatal vitamins
I don't think I really need to explain why these are important. If you become pregnant, get your hands on some of these asap. I did some research in my early weeks and realized that the Walgreens brand of vitamins is just as good, if not better, than the name brands. And they're cheaper!

Side note: Although I never experienced nausea resulting from my vitamins, many women apparently do. Here's my advice: Don't bother spending money to switch brands. Almost every prenatal vitamin has the same ingredients so one of them is not going to magically cure you. Instead, talk to your doctor and do your best to get the vitamins and minerals in your diet.

2. A Pregnancy/Childbirth Book
In my humble opinion, expecting mothers should have at least one guide book at their disposal. I did a lot of research and read plenty of customer reviews before I picked one. Many women said "What To Expect When You're Expecting" used condescending language and cutesy puns, and when I flipped through it, I understood. One gentleman on Amazon.com said that if your pregnant significant other receives this book as a gift, your job is to "lose it."

"The Mayo Clinic Guide to a Healthy Pregnancy" is thorough, but also quite technical. I would recommend it for anyone who wants nothing but straight talk.

My personal choice was "Great Expectations: Your All-in-One Resource for Pregnancy and Childbirth." This book is comprehensive and easy to navigate, but it doesn't leave anything out. It includes week-by-week explanations of what is going on with the baby and mother's development, a cohesive guide to labor and delivery, and plenty of information on what products you need for baby. I give it five stars.

Side note: I highly recommend looking for a pregnancy book at Half Price Books. They're located all over the place, and the staff are more than happy to check for a certain book if you call. I plopped down on a stool in the store some time during my seventh week and looked at everything they had on pregnancy until I found the book I love, which I also trust because it was previously owned by a hospital. :)

3. Belly Band
Yes, this is essential. Unless you want to wear sweatpants for the duration of your pregnancy, you need to get your puffy little hands on one of these lovely things. The belly band allows you to wear your pre-pregnancy jeans. You just unbutton them and slide the elastic over the top to hold your pants together. It can also slim down a pair of maternity pants if you don't quite fill them out yet. Finally, the belly band will make the transition back to your old wardrobe post-childbirth a little smoother.

Though they typically come in several colors, I purchased a basic black band. If it happens to peek out from under your shirt, it just looks like the bottom of a tank top.

Side note: Don't bother looking for a super cheap one. Anywhere you look will sell them for about $15-$20. They're worth it. I bought mine at Target.

4. Small photo album
This item is on my list for a good reason. People want to see your ultrasound photos, but carrying them around loose runs the risk of damaging them. A durable, portable photo album means your pictures will be safe, but you can easily toss the whole thing in your purse. My photo album is a purple patent leather one from Crate and Barrel.

Side note: A little photo album makes a great gift if you're looking to give the mother-to-be something special and useful early in her pregnancy. Trust me, she'll appreciate the sentiment that you care about her pregnancy memories.

5. Portable notebook
A must have for jotting down just about anything. "Pregnancy brain" is a real symptom, so don't be fooled. Because so much extra blood is going to the baby, a little less of it goes to your brain, making mom slightly more forgetful than she used to be.

I've been using my notebook to jot down all kinds of lists- things I need to do, people I need to make sure receive baby shower invites, addresses for those invites as I gather them, blog ideas, etc.

Side note: My mom recently told me that there's nothing wrong with writing things down to help yourself out. Making notes doesn't mean you're incapable of remembering, it just means you don't HAVE TO remember. Who doesn't want their life made a little simpler?

6. Mini organizer
I'll admit that when I pulled this out of my Christmas stocking, I was a little confused. Now I get it. A little organizer with separate pockets is a lifesaver. I use mine to hold on to coupons and appointment cards right now, and I know it will come in handy when I start keeping track of gift receipts.

7. Spare cash
Pregnant women need a lot of food. You really don't want to get stuck somewhere without a snack. You may start to get dizzy, lightheaded, nauseous or all three, which obviously means baby can't be very happy either. Keep an extra $5 in ones on you for a snack machine or drive-thru.

Side note: Gift cards to food establishments make wonderful little gifts! They allow mama to make a quick, no-fuss stop for food completely guilt-free. I almost teared up the other day when a friend sent me a gift card to McDonald's so I could indulge in my beloved french fries. (Thank you, Callie!)

8. Thank You cards
Trust me, you want to have these on hand. You'll be glad you got them ahead of time when a friend gives you an impromptu gift. Believe me when I say that even a small token deserves a sincere "thank you." Just because you're pregnant doesn't give you a free pass from good etiquette.

Side note: I got my cards from Michael's craft store. Near the registers, they have a clearance section where you can find great stuff. I believe I paid 50 cents for a pack of eight cards, and I love them! Side note to the side note: Also keep stamps on hand. The mailman will not deliver your gratitude without a stamp.

9. Comfortable socks
I know this is a random thing to put on the list, but I wouldn't recommend them for no reason. I asked for fuzzy socks for Christmas, and my stepmom kindly obliged. Pregnancy means your feet will swell and get sore. Forgive me for getting all medical, but you really don't want to be walking around barefoot a lot. Pregnant women should try to avoid infections at all cost, so heaven forbid you step on something icky or sharp that could lead to a problem. You may also want to consider getting some with gripping pads on the bottom. Your growing belly will throw off your center of gravity a little bit, and they will help you to avoid slipping or falling.

I used to walk around barefoot all the time. I wore flip flops from March through November to let my feet breathe as much as possible and my soles were stained gray from who-knows-what. That was more acceptable when these feet were only carrying me around, but these days, I'm trying not to uphold the old "pregnant and barefoot" Kentucky stereotype.


So there you have it. Sorry for the overload of information, but I hope it was all useful. Please email me or leave a comment if you have an opinion to share as well!

Side note: I don't get paid or anything to endorse these products. Everything written above comes straight from my thoughts and experience. I know I make frequent mention of what things cost. That's because I'm in college and I'm cheap.