Our Little Peanut

As someone recently diagnosed with a very rare medical disorder, I should not be surprised that my own son is gearing up for his own mystery diagnosis.

It all started about 2-3 months ago.  Peanut started crying one night before bed that his neck hurt.  Thinking perhaps he strained his neck earlier in the day I was concerned, but didn't think much of it. He was a very healthy little guy and didn't complain much.  I gave him some children's pain reliever medicine and he went to bed.  The next day he seemed fine and all was well again, until the evening.  Then came the crying and more complaining of a sore neck.  By the next morning he was fine again and I was confused.  

Then the complaining completely stopped.  He seemed normal again.  We assumed it was a strained neck from sleeping wrong, or perhaps his much larger 5 year old brother had tackled him (hey anything is possible with five kids).  Then one day as I was buckling him into his carseat, he suddenly started grabbing at his neck and screaming.  He screamed bloody murder all the way home and didn't stop once we got home. He was in pain and I knew this was something more than a strained neck.  

I called his doctor and scheduled an appointment.  His doctor examined him and said, "Well, he's still rather small for his age, and his growth has been on the slow side.  I think it's his thyroid".  So off to the lab we went for some blood work.  Then we waited.   The results were pretty typical and the thyroid looked good.  The nurse advised me to try some children's allergy medicine and that his throat most likely hurt from seasonal allergies.  Okay.  I was skeptical since he doesn't really have any signs of seasonal allergies, but desperate to find a solution, we loaded up with various, expensive brands of children's allergy liquid medicine.  

The next month was blissfully normal.  He seemed happy and healthy again and was back to his regular Peanut shenanigans.  I started to feel confident that we could put this mysterious "neck pain" behind us.  My husband decided to take a couple of weeks off of work in August.  We planned our annual family trip to my dad's cabin in Bend.  We went shopping for the trip, we planned out our vacation days, we got all excited and then as quickly as his pain went away, it suddenly came back. Peanut once again began to scream, "Owww, owww, my neck hurts" only this time things weren't fine by the next morning and they weren't fine by the next evening and it became crystal clear that something was really wrong. I scheduled another appointment with his doctor, but unfortunately his doctor was out of town that following week and we were also supposed to be leaving town.  So I scheduled the first appointment he had once he returned from vacation, and we crossed our fingers that his pain would go away quickly as it had in the past.  

While we waited for his appointment we tried to go about our lives as normally as possible. The day before our trip we had a birthday party to attend for a close friend who's daughter was turning one.  My husband had to work so I took all five kids alone.  It was one of those moments where as soon as you get to the party, you quickly realize you should've just stayed home because Peanut was just not happy at all.  He was crying and hurting and fussing and I spent the entire party trying to bounce him up and down on my hip to comfort him. Yeah.  

He spent most of the party hiding in their playhouse and screaming at other kids to get out.  What can I say? He's socially gifted like his parents.

I got him home and noticed he felt a little warm.  Up until this point he had not had a fever at all.  He fell asleep rather early and the morning of our trip he woke up with a 103.5 fever.   The trip was off and to urgent care we went.  Unfortunately the doctor at urgent care couldn't help much because they don't deal with chronic medical issues, but she gave us the number for a pediatric ENT (ears, nose and throat specialist).  We called him as soon as we got home and were able to get him in for an appointment within two days. However, those two days were hell on earth for us.  Peanut was so uncomfortable and I was pretty much camped out with him on my bed.  We watched his favorite movie, Cat in the Hat about 10 billion times.  He wasn't eating, wasn't sleeping and we were counting down the minutes until his ENT appointment.  We were hoping to get some answers at the ENT, but he didn't give us any hints or clues as to what he suspected was wrong with Peanut.

However, he did send us to a children's hospital for a barium swallow study.  With a barium swallow test you cannot have anything to eat or drink for at least 4 hours before the test.  Peanut was pretty mad. Okay, he was pissed!  It was not a fun morning trying to explain to a 3 year old why they can't have anything to eat or drink.   The barium test went surprisingly easy.  The tech mixed his shake with cherry Torani syrup, which made J and I laugh because we love Torani syrup in our coffee.  I was nervous that he was going to refuse the shake, but he actually loved it and wanted to drink more...gross.  His swallow study test came back normal, which is awesome, but a tiny bit frustrating in a small way because now we are back to square one.  We were hoping to avoid the more invasive tests where he would have to put under with anesthesia, but that may not be possible at this point.

He was not happy about the no food rule

Modeling our sexy lead aprons with thyroid shields

We do not have any idea what's going on and why he's having these random cycles of pain.  We've Googled his symptoms until our fingers cramped and had many late night conversations of what we think is wrong, but we are just normal people, not doctors.  At this point the next step is another referral to a specialist for more testing.  This time he'll be seeing a gastroenterologist.  I'm also hoping he will be allergy tested.  

I've been so incredibly busy and stressed out this summer that I haven't had the time to blog like I did last summer. It seems like the older the kids get, the busier I get.  School starts back up in a week and honestly I don't even feel like I got a summer break yet.  This summer has flown by faster than any other summer I can ever remember.  I'm not ready for school at all.  My 8 year old needs uniforms purchased, I still have some random school supplies on the list to find, bills to catch up, phone calls to make, and just dozens of things that I put on the back burner when Peanut got sick.  

I have a few more posts to write and hopefully post this week.  Despite all of the drama, we did manage to escape to my dad's cabin for a few days last week so I will be blogging about our trip next.  We got home from our trip late Thursday night and my husband woke up Friday morning with a horrible case of food poisoning and spent most of the weekend puking his guts out.  I know, I know...you are all dying to be me right about now.  I get it.

Peanut seems to be doing okay for now.  He's had a couple of good weeks with minimal pain so we are happy about that.  At this point I don't have any answers to give so here is a really cute picture of him at the hospital.

and another one.....

Oh and I almost forgot....while we were at the hospital with Peanut, my soccer obsessed husband saw Diego Chara from the Portland Timbers (MLS soccer team).  He was walking in front of us and held the elevator door open for us, but he was going down and we were going up.  I held my breath thinking my hubby was going to humiliate us by following Chara around the hospital like a stalker (which the hubby later admitted he almost did), but luckily all he said to him was, "Go Timbers" and Chara smiled at us and said "Thank you".  Of course i've been teasing him as it was kind of dorky and funny that all my star struck hubby could muster up was "Go Timbers".   

Slutty Goats

Clipart provided by Clker.com

My husband and I both suffer from insomnia. This typically leads to him pestering me about sex, and me lying on the couch like a vegetable whining about being tired.

We have some very interesting conversations late at night.  A few nights ago we started talking about Bengay, which somehow lead to the topic of men putting Bengay on their balls.  I just had to Google it to believe it. I Google everything and I do mean everything.

I especially love Yahoo questions and answers though. This is what I found when I Googled, "Do men really put Bengay on their balls" (They do by the way)

Question: 
"When I put bengay on my balls, it hurts. Is that normal?"

Best Answer (by arkleseizure):
"Normal that you're putting it on (no) or normal that it hurts (I don't think normal has been established, as people don't generally do this)"

Other Awesome Answers: 
"Burning, yes....putting it on, no"

"Try putting some of your rectum. It might help you forget you have it on your balls"

"Why would you put Bengay on your balls to begin with? Usually it's used for sore muscles and clearly your balls are not a muscle".

As if the conversation couldn't possibly get more intense, we started watching Animal Planet.  Slutty goats is what happens when the husband and I try to watch an evening of educational programming together.  I'm not even sure they were actual goats but they had horns and were ramming each other and the husband said, "Wow, talk about some slutty goats.  Look at that one.  She doesn't use the old 'I have a headache excuse'.  She's ready to get some."

I have some issues with this.  For one, I highly doubt that female goat has five children to take care, a mounting pile of medical bills, and an autoimmune disorder that affects her sex drive.  However, I could be totally wrong and if I am, i'm deeply sorry. I'm sure goats have their own set of problems.  And yes, I just Googled, "Common goat problems" in case you're wondering.  It turns out goats don't have it all that great either.  They often have twins.  Egads! No wonder they suffer from chronic urinary problems.

I feel your pain goat, I do.  If you weren't a goat, and didn't smell so horrifically funky, and I could get it in writing that you wouldn't take a dump on my couch, I would so have you over for some coffee, scones and girl talk.

Facing your phobias and no this is not a how to guide

What do you do when you have an enormous phobia?  You face it head on.  And then you curl up in the fetal position and cry until you stop foaming at the mouth and can put a coherent sentence together.

This has been my life this past week, which is why I haven't been around to post.  I've been trapped in my own personal hell called downtown Portland.

My dear, sweet, wonderful hubby wanted to do something nice for our teenage daughter so he signed her up for a singing, dancing and acting class. Our daughter wants to be an actress/singer, plus that's just what we parents in Portland do. We sign our kids up for artsy fartsy stuff, while secretly hoping that they will rebel and go into a different career field that will actually pay the bills.  He signed her up at a local theatre on our side of town and assumed (you know what they say about people who assume things) that the class was going to be at the same location he signed her up at. Um, NO.

I was already nervous about driving her back and forth to and from the theatre when I thought it was near his work (actually it's close to Voodoo Doughnuts which I can totally live with), however, the night before the class on a Sunday night at 10 pm, I heard him say these dreaded words, "Hey babe. I was wrong.  Her class is actually downtown."  I froze.  I cringed. I prayed to sweet baby Jesus that he was just messing with me.  But he wasn't.  I fearfully asked him where downtown and he made a grimace and said, "Downtown, downtown. As in smack in the middle of the city".

I will admit, I freaked the hell out.  I technically already live in the city where we have a lot of heavy traffic, but it's not like downtown city traffic with one way streets and pedestrians everywhere.  I can literally count the number of times i've driven downtown alone and each time i've had a horrendous panic attack.  Hearing the news that I was going to have to not only drop her off around lunch time but pick her up at 3:30 so that meant TWO trips into the city every single day for TWO flipping weeks, sent me over the edge.

Needless to say I didn't sleep very well on Sunday night and by Monday morning I was ready to barf...I mean drive my daughter to her class.   I hit a few snags along the way, but it was a fairly smooth drive and thanks to my GPS on my iPhone, I figured out how to get home.  When I got home, I bragged to my husband about how victorious I was for making the round trip twice....TWICE PEOPLE!  He responded with a sly, "Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you that Mondays aren't that bad at all. Tomorrow will be much worse".  Say what motherfucker?

Tuesday rolled around and he was right. Traffic was bad. The streets are short and my extended minivan is not exactly city friendly, but I did it.  Then Wednesday rolled around and I nearly lost my shit.  I ended up flipping the bird while trying to merge onto the Morrison Bridge.  The other driver freaked out and slammed on his breaks and then refused to let me in.  I waited until he finally decided to move his arse into the right lane and then I merged over.  Then came the fun part.  Making it across those damn city street intersections!  The blocks are so short and traffic backs up so even though there is a green light, you can't go through the green light or you're stuck in the middle of the intersection like a sitting duck.  And people don't like sitting ducks shaped like giant ass Dodge Caravans that block the entire intersection.  NO, they don't!  In fact people get pretty snarly with you and shake their heads as they gawd forbid have to walk around your van while you are hogging up their precious cross walk.

So, yeah, i'm blocking the crosswalk while a group of rebellious looking youth (geez, i'm getting old and turning into my parents) start to walk in front of my van to cross the street. I must say that flop sweats and slip on shoes do not go together well.  I lost my grip on the break pedal and accidentally lurched forward at the group of street kids. It was a total accident and in reality I didn't really even come close to hitting them, but it scared me and i'm sure deep down they were scared too even though they had to act tough.  Scared or not they didn't find it very amusing and I probably came close to getting the poop beat out of me.  One of them stopped right in front of my van with her arms crossed in front of her.  She was really mad and I was a little scared because i'm not a fighter kind of chick.  I'm more of a cry and lose bodily functions kind of girl.  However, I have this anxiety/temper thing that comes out when i'm feeling really stressed so instead of ignoring her I held up my hands and waved them at her and mouthed the words "You can go now" and I rolled my eyes at her. I don't know why I do the things I do. Seriously. It was dumb and i'm lucky she didn't break my face into pieces.  Either way, I managed to get my daughter to where she needed to be and then I sobbed like a newborn baby when I finally got out of the city and had merged onto the freeway to head home.  Cause that's totally normal to cry when you get out of the city, right?  Right?  Okay, moving on...

Thursday's drive was actually not that bad.  I was starting to get my groove back and feeling like I was earning my city driving stripes and then Friday happened.  I was trying to merge onto I-84 West and I couldn't even merge because traffic was backed up onto the off ramp which basically means, "You ain't  going anywhere".  We sat in traffic for over 30 minutes because there was an accident that had two of the three lanes blocked.  By the time we passed the accident, the lanes just opened up and we made it to her class, but she was really late. Feeling stressed to the max, I made it out of downtown and I raced over to Trader Joe's, fought like hell for a parking spot and then drove to Winco cause when you're already in hell, why not just stay for awhile?  I barely had enough time to go home and unload all of the groceries before I had to drive back into the city to pick up my daughter.  Getting into the city wasn't so bad, but getting out was another story.  The freeway was a parking lot.  Luckily I know a shortcut thanks to my hubby so it could've been much worse. We had to stop at another store on the way home to get medicine because my 8 y/o broke her toe by doing gymnastics in the house (after I told her numerous times she was going to break something but no one listens to me) and I was a dummy and forgot to buy it earlier. I got home just before 5 pm.  I felt like collapsing onto the floor in the fetal position and drooling on myself, but my joints were throbbing so I lathered myself up with joint cream instead.

I admire anyone who can drive around big cities like it's no big deal.  It is a big deal for me.  I'm tempted to move to a small, country town out in the middle of nowhere where the only other residents are some sheep and maybe a couple of goats.   I'm also in awe of bus drivers.  They are like rockstars to me now.  Forget the Biebs.  Do you honestly think he could drive a gigantic bus in downtown Portland without plowing people over or peeing his pants?  I don't think so!  Seriously though, I would rather clean public toilets using my own toothbrush than to be a TriMet driver in Portland.  Okay, so maybe I would use my husband's toothbrush instead, but still, that would be the most terrifying job in the world. Forget Deadliest Catch (okay don't cause I freaking love that show) but there needs to be a show about bus drivers who drive around in the city.  Is there a show like that?  I would totally watch it, on my couch with my brown paper bag and the flop sweats.

This is a TriMet bus in case you're wondering what the hell TriMet is (image courtesy of Google):

Five days of this torture left (not that i'm counting down or anything). 

Peanut butter hoarding

Choosy moms choose Jif, apparently every single time they go to the store (which is often).  The sad part is I was completely oblivious to the overabundance of peanut butter in my pantry until the hubby got home from work and said, "Holy hell, why do we have a million freaking jars of peanut butter?"

I replied with, "There aren't that many. Just a few" and that's when he started pulling them out of the pantry one by one and lining them up on my counter.

Holy poop! It's like we're saving up for a peanut butter armageddon or something!!!! 

Is there a 12 step program for peanut butter hoarders? Peanut butter anonymous?  Anything?  Hello, I obviously need some help here people!!!!  How is it that we have SEVEN jars of peanut butter, but yet we're constantly running out of toilet paper and have to resort to using napkins?!   You wanna know what's even more pathetic than having a bazillion jars of peanut butter? Spell checking the word "seven". Yup, guilty as charged.

So, what do you do when you have 12,000 jars of peanut butter?  You make a crap ton of peanut butter cookies (or bunner bunner cookies) as Peanut calls them.

Yes, i've shared this recipe on my blog before, but i'm going to share it again.  And then i'm going to drive to the store to buy more peanut butter.

Three Ingredient Peanut Butter Cookie Recipe (created by someone really creative and awesome on Allrecipes because there is no way I could ever come up with a recipe that didn't completely suck): 

1 cup of peanut butter (or 7 jars...kidding)
1 cup of white sugar
1 egg

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Mix ingredients together and drop onto greased cookie sheets.  Take a fork and make a criss cross pattern.  Bake for approx 6-8 minutes.  Do not burn these!  They will taste like dog poop.  You're welcome.

You smell like gorgonzola

I'm bored. And please spare me your, "If you're bored then you're boring" because that's telling me something I already know.  Duh.  I am boring!  Seriously though, the endless summer days just draaaaaaag on at times.  I love my kids. I do. But there are only so many, "Mom, will you get me...." or "Mom, can I have a......." or "Mom, he called me a......" that I can take without snapping.  Jeezus!!!!

Yesterday was one of those days where I kept checking Facebook like a bazillion times, hoping for some excitement, but apparently boring people have boring friends because there wasn't any good drama to speak of.  Rather just pictures of cats or food or cats eating food...sigh.  Of course it's highly possible that i've been blocked from most of my friends. I don't really blame them.  I'm kind of a whiner.  I know people hate the whiners on Facebook, but I personally have a soft spot in my heart for the negative nellies.  I'm more of a "If you can't say something nice, then come sit next to me" kinda gal.

I was so bored that I decided I was going to grab the bulls by the balls and pay some bills.  Then I realized that we have several major bills all due this pay period and my hubby doesn't get paid for almost two weeks and I nearly vomited blood from the stress.  So, now i'm bored and broke.

My boredom continued throughout the day and by the time my husband got home from work, I was excited to finally have some adult interaction.  However, my excitement was quickly squashed when I looked to my left and saw him snoring away on the couch, thus leaving me on my own to get his spawn into bed.  That hard working bastard who thinks he deserves a nap!  Geesh!!!!

To top it off i'm almost out of Bengay and i've been in a crap ton of pain lately.  My medical problems suck but since we owe about five kidneys worth of medical bills, I can't really afford to go back at the moment.  I've been lathering myself up with enough Bengay to cover the Golden Girls.  Last night Peanut turned to me and said "Momma, you really stink".   Bo's also had an endearing comment for me, "Mom, you smell like gorgonzola."  Alrighty then.  So i'm boring, broke, in pain and I smell like stinky cheese.

The worst part (aside from smelling like gorgonzola), is that I feel guilty for not being one of those perky moms with tons of energy who dresses her kids up in matchy matchy outfits and takes them to the zoo by myself.  Have you ever been to the Portland Zoo? It may not be the San Diego Zoo, but that son of a biotch is huge!  I can maybe walk through the entrance and then i'm done.  I don't have the stamina nor the patience to attempt outings with my three youngest kids on my own (my teens are gone for two weeks).   I would be on the evening news for sure.

The headline would go something like:

"Tonight's top story....A mom of five got eaten by a gorilla as she fell into his cage while attempting to tie her son's shoe.  Investigators are still trying to piece it all together and many questions still remain like why couldn't her son tie his own shoes?  Zoo employees on the scene believe the gorilla mistakingly thought she was a piece of gorgonzola cheese."

Do gorillas even like gorgonzola?

But anyways, yeah, i'm kind of a klutz.  For example last night I tried to rub some lotion on my legs as I attempted to hoist my giant leg onto the counter.  Just when my hubby was starting to get turned on and had high hopes of getting lucky (yes, sadly when you've been together for a million zillion years, all it takes is a bare leg and the hubby takes that as a sexual advance), my foot slid off the counter and I smacked my face on the counter on the way down to the floor.

Today has been much better though.  My kids woke up screaming for brownies.  My husband said no as he was walking out the door and then looked at me and said, "It's up to you."  Great, just throw me to the wolves why dontcha?

Then the phone rang.  It was my dad who sounded like something was wrong.  I started to panic as he is the only parent I have left and he already had prostate cancer about 15 years ago.  He started off the conversation with, "I have some bad news".  I braced myself and took some deep breaths.  Then he continued with, "I have to go to Portland to do some judging" (my dad is a retired circuit court judge but still works on occasion in case you're wondering).   I nervously asked him, "Ok, so what's the bad news?"  He responded with, "That is the bad news. I'll be in town for a week."   Really, dad?  I mean you couldn't just say on the phone that everything was okay?  My dad thinks he's a comedian (kinda like me), but he's not funny (kinda like me), so his jokes are never funny and are typically inappropriate (now you know who I got it from).  After I recovered from nearly having a heart attack, we started talking about other stuff.  Then the kids realized I was on the phone and they decided that was the perfect time to start screaming about brownies.

The screaming and chaos got my dad off the phone real fast and could possibly explain why he would associate coming to visit us for a week as "bad news".  I would love to see what's in his suitcase. Probably a lifetime supply of ear plugs and Tums.   I don't know, but I must end this now as my son is yelling, "Mom, come wipe my butt". Apparently tying shoes isn't the only skill we need to work on this week.

Weekends with Peanut Layne

Well, it's official.  I'm the worst blogger in history. Yep, I am.  I'm lucky if I blog once a week at this point (on a good month).  Not to mention it takes me forever to moderate my comments so please don't feel bad if it takes me a month or longer to approve your comment.  It's not you, it's me.  ALL ME.  It's called laziness and it's contagious in our house.  I'm behind on writing blogs, reading blogs and commenting on blogs (geesh, do you think i've said the word "blog" enough?) so that's my goal for this week (to actually get blogging stuff done), along with losing 50 lbs. That's not too much to ask is it?

So, what has been going on in the Peanut Layne house you may be asking? Or maybe you're not asking at all, but who cares, because i'm gonna tell you anyways!  This weekend has been super exciting. Ok, so no, it hasn't.  Last night (Friday night), the husband and I put the kids to bed and partied, and by partied I mean we sat on the couch (separate couches because I need room to stretch out my legs, and the hubby hates the smell of my Bengay lotion) and watched a National Lampoons marathon on VH1.  The husband made a Dutch Bros coffee run which was super sweet but I knew exactly what that meant...he was going to expect sex for his good deed.  Yep, I saw right through his random act of kindness.

Before the sex the husband started complaining about not having any junk food in the house.  He had this brilliant idea to take some tortillas (I think they've been in the fridge since season 3 of Weeds...you know before the series turned to shit) and spread butter, cinnamon and sugar all over them.  He insisted I help him eat them, and since i'm not one to turn down sugar, I agreed.

Within about 10 minutes of eating the sugary tortillas of death, my stomach was gurgling and angry with me.  Just what you want when you're about to have sex.  I didn't have the heart to tell my husband that the entire time we were having sex, I was concentrating on bowel control.

Today the party continued as I had to run to Winco to buy groceries.  As I was walking out of Winco, I dropped our pizza face down on the parking lot ground.  Gross.  I got home and handed it over to the hubby and told him to check it for hypodermic needles before tossing it into the oven.

Speaking of the hubby he ditched me tonight so he could go a local pizza place/bar and watch a UFC fight with his buddies. Our 8 y/o daughter asked me as he was leaving, "He's not going to one of those root beer places is he? Cause those are really bad."  After I finished laughing I figured I would take this time to catch up on chick flicks but come to find out the husband set a bunch of parental controls. DAMN HIM!  Of course I hit the wrong button while cursing over the parental controls and it landed on Spongebob so my dreams of watching TV tonight have been shattered.

I wish I had more funny stuff but I got nothin.  My 5 y/o son said the strawberries I bought looked like butt cheeks.  The sad thing is, they kinda do.

Apple Magic Trackpad from Staples Review

I love Staples. I love Apple.  When asked to do a review by Staples for an Apple product, I couldn't say no.

My Apple Magic Trackpad arrived super quickly which is fantastic because I couldn't wait to try it out.  I have a slight Apple obsession and we have a house full of Apple products (iPhones, iPods, MacBook Pro and a couple of Mac computers).  The only thing missing in our house was an Apple Magic Trackpad.  We had a really annoying old mouse and we've been missing a mousepad for several years.  I think my daughter used it for an art project and cut it up into pieces or something. Who really knows?

For those who don't know what an Apple Magic Trackpad is, it's an amazing little gadget that replaces a mouse. It's very similar to the trackpad that is built into a MacBook, but even bigger and easier to use.  No more banging your mouse on the desk out of frustration.  This is a hassle free, one handed, multi-touch device and you will love it!  You can click, scroll, swipe and rotate with ease!  The Trackpad is cordless so no annoying wires or cords to get in your way and prevent you from doing what you want to do.

PROS: 

• Works on any surface
• Comfortable design
• Glides smoothly
• Great features
• Accurate tracking

As a blogger, i'm on my MacBook or desktop a lot (probably too much) so this device comes in really handy and saves me lots of time and aggravation.   My husband works in the film industry and does many hours of professional video and photo editing, so much to my dismay, he loved my Apple Magic Trackpad so much, that he "borrowed" it and took it to work.  I don't think i'll be getting it back anytime soon, so I will be ordering an additional one in the near future for our home computer. 

Here is my Apple Magic Trackpad stealer hard at work: 

You can purchase your Apple Magic Trackpad HERE.  And while you're at it, I recommend ordering a Staples Easy Button if you have kids (or even if you don't have kids).  The kind people of Staples included one with my trackpad and my kids play with it all the time.  Heck, even my teenagers love it! 

Full disclosure: Staples.com provided me with these products for review. The thoughts and opinions expressed are strictly my own. Feel free to shop their entire line of apple accessories online.