Adulthood Stole My Cool

The SnotSucker

Posted on Mar 5, 2015 in Adulthood Stole My Cool, My Kid Stole My Cool

The SnotSucker 0

Hello there, Interwebz. It’s been awhile.  A lot has happened since I last posted, but I’ll fill you in on all that another day.  Suffice to say, I have been existing in a sort of  semi-conscious state for several months. The baby. He does not sleep. I thought he would have grown out of the not-sleeping thing by now, but no. It’s torture.

(No, really. Chronic sleep deprivation is literally torture. I think Jack Bauer taught me that.)

But all this is unimportant compared to a life-changing invention that I’m about to introduce you to.  Ready for it?

It’s called… The Snotsucker.

Yup, you read that right.  The Snotsucker.

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Before I fill you in on this amazing/disgusting invention, a little background: It’s March. And it’s snowing. And it’s been snowing for pretty much ever. And Elisabeth has been in school approximately two days in the last month. And I am very much going crazy. Which explains why my first post in almost six months is about a nasal aspirator. Please send help in the form of babysitters, vacations to tropical islands, and tequila.

Okay, back to the Snotsucker. You savvy moms out there are probably already well-acquainted with this. It is the thing to have to effectively clear your baby’s nasal passages.  I mean, they sell it at Nordstrom so you know it’s trendy.  And who doesn’t want a trendy nasal aspirator?

Well I sure do! As I just mentioned it’s March and apparently I live in Siberia and for the past five months everyone in my house has been circulating The Crud. For those of us with well-developed fine motor skills, blowing our nose is not an issue.  The baby, unfortunately,  frequently has a bulb syringe shoved up his nose to suction out all the boogies. And there are oh-so-many boogies. With the Snotsucker, the baby still has a foreign object shoved up his nose, but one that much more effectively clears out all the snot.  It’s seriously amazing. And I’m not even being sarcastic.

It all started when I was wandering around – you guessed it – Nordstrom sometime during my third trimester. It had only been two-odd years since my first baby was born, yet somehow in that brief time the baby industry invented a slew of new products designed to make me feel like I was completely unprepared to bring my second baby in the world, despite the boxes of swings, mats, feeding supplies, toys, etc. I owned that suggested otherwise.  As I was despairing my lack of a battery operated baby nail trimmer, I noticed a shelving unit displaying The Honest Company products and some fancy-sounding European brand of baby toiletries. It was probably French. If you’ve read any parenting article recently, you know that French Parents are Superior at Everything, which I’m sure extends to their baby bath soaps and lotions.

I had hit the mother lode: Jessica Alba and French stuff. And proudly displayed alongside these hot commodities was the NoseFrida Snotsucker.

I was intrigued so more closely inspected the package. Hey – it was made in Sweden! A doctor-invented, doctor-recommended, hygienic baby product from the land of Ikea? I had to have it. The packaging even declared it “smart,” which is really incredible considering it’s an inanimate object. (I will also note that the website lists this as dishwasher safe. A selling point so strong that it is actually listed twice! Now you have a dishwasher safe, doctor-invented, doctor-recommended, hygienic, smart, Swedish baby product! What more could you possibly want?)

 

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Anyway, baby James arrived and was snot-free for many months. I forgot about this mysterious Swedish product. And then we moved to somewhere that is not California. And then came the snot. All the snot. All the time. Normally this would be a nuisance, but I had some strange European thing that would surely work miracles!

I excitedly took out the Snotsucker. I was ready to clear James’ nose like no one’s business. And then I read the directions.

You guys. You actually suck the snot out of the baby’s nose. Like, with your mouth. Though the name “Snotsucker” makes its purpose fairly obvious, (as does the illustration on the packaging) this fact somehow escaped me. I claim baby brain.

Now think about this. At some point some Swedish sadist came along and thought, “Hey, being a mom isn’t humiliating and disgusting enough. Let’s invent something with which she physically removes her child’s snot with her mouth.” Then he (because it had to be a he) marketed this in cute packaging and sold it at Nordstrom and people like me bought it.  And because I spent money on a fancy European snot-sucking device when the hospital will give you a bulb syringe for free, I had to use it.

So I sucked it up (heh) and did it. I put one end of that aspirator into James’ nose and the other in my mouth and sucked, praying I wouldn’t inhale anything. (There are filters to prevent that, but I was wary.) And here’s the thing: It worked. It worked so well. Way, way better than that cheap-o bulb from the hospital. I was amazed! The first few times I used it, James was still small enough to be restrained to accomplish the snot-sucking. Now he is twenty pounds of brute force and would rather fling himself off the changing table than have anything forced up his naval cavity, so I fear my days of snot-sucking are numbered. But I’m grateful for the limited time I had with the Snotsucker.

Moms – buy this product. People who know moms-to-be – buy them this product. You don’t even have to go Nordstrom – it’s sold on Amazon! And pretty much every baby site you can think of! (Um, maybe I was just out of the loop on this thing?) Regardless – don’t be out of the loop like me. I love it and you will love it, too. So buy it.*

You might be interested to know that this company also has a product designed to alleviate a baby’s gas, the Windi. Given the unconventionality of the Snotsucker, I’m not sure I want to try the Windi. I have to have some boundaries. But if you have used it, please let me know how it is.

 

*This is not a paid review. Seriously – who would pay anyone to write a review like this?

 

 

 

 

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Sleeping in Pee: The Joys of Being a New Mom

Posted on Aug 28, 2014 in Adulthood Stole My Cool, My Kid Stole My Cool, Pregnancy Stole My Cool

Babies, anyone?  Engagements, weddings, babies – they seem to happen in seasons.  And if ever there was a baby season, it is now.  I know of at least 20 (probably more) women that have recently had babies or are due in the next few months.  As I’ve been a mom for almost three whole years and now have TWO children, I’m obviously an expert on all things motherhood.  But that didn’t stop me from absolutely panicking right after James was born.  There he was, this tiny baby, entirely dependent on me.  And there I was, struggling to get him to nurse, exhausted (and he was only a few hours old!) and convinced that I would not be able to do this newborn stage again – the sleepless nights, the non-stop nursing, the unexplainable crying.  Nope, couldn’t do it. That moment passed, thankfully, but I think it’s a pretty common feeling among the mommy set.  In case anyone needed a reminder, being a new mom is hard.  And scary. So I want to share a few things I’ve learned with these new moms and moms-to-be, whether they’re having their first child or third. 1)   Step away from The Google.  Seriously.  Everything you read will convince you that you’re failing as a mother or your child is dying.  Probably neither is true.  Admittedly, I need to heed my own advice here.  I recently convinced myself that my daughter was dry drowning and that my newborn son would be developmentally stunted from lack of sleep.  Get this – dry drowning is extremely rare, though the interwebs would lead you to believe otherwise.  My daughter was fine.  As for my son? Maybe he will be stunted due to lack of sleep. But I don’t need Google reminding me of that.  Neither do you.  So back away. 2)   You may only wash your hair about once a week.  Accept this and move on. 3)   Same goes for shaving your legs.  Not a problem if your baby is born in November.  But if you have a spring or summer baby, invest in maxi dresses. 4)  ...

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Can’t Hack It

Posted on Apr 12, 2014 in Adulthood Stole My Cool, My Kid Stole My Cool, Pregnancy Stole My Cool

Can’t Hack It 1

I spent last weekend in San Francisco visiting friends.  Non-mom friends.  For the first time, the distinction between “mom” friends and “non-mom” friends became important; for the first time, I realized that though I like to think I can hang out with my non-mom friends just like I used to, I’m severely disillusioned.  Nope.  As a 33 weeks pregnant mom of a two-year-old, I just can’t hack it anymore. *** The week after moving back to southern California, a few non-mom friends happened to be in town.  After exchanging emails to make dinner plans, one friend suggested a place and time. 8:30. I balked. 8:30!? As in, PM!?  But that’s jammy time!  I hastily wrote my friends back, and after claiming jet-lag, asked if we could push dinner up to 8:00.  I really meant 5:30, but figured that might be pushing it for my friends whose lives don’t currently revolve around potty-training and early morning prenatal yoga.  So 8:00 it was.  The evening of our dinner arrived, and after chugging boatloads of coffee I made my way to the restaurant, praying I wouldn’t fall asleep face-first into my mocktail.* I managed to rally, but I got lucky that time.  So let’s examine last weekend, when a silly pregnant woman attempted to recapture her pre-children days. Friday night my girlfriends and I got together at a charming little Italian restaurant.  We enjoyed a delicious dinner and then lingered over wine.  (Well, everyone else lingered over wine.  I lingered over water.)  I love these girls.  I love catching up with them.  I love lingering over wine when I am actually allowed to drink wine.  But how does a sleep-deprived, third-trimester pregnant woman stay awake past 9:00 in a dim restaurant after eating copious amounts of carbs and cured meat?  It’s damn near impossible, I tell you. Everyone seemed a little spent after a long week, and decided to disperse after dinner rather than heading out somewhere else.  Thank the good Lord – I could go to bed!  Except I couldn’t.  My friend’s neighbor fell asleep with her television blasting.  My über-sensitivity...

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How I Know I’m Old: Hiking Mount Fuji

Posted on Sep 3, 2013 in Adulthood Stole My Cool

How I Know I’m Old: Hiking Mount Fuji 0

Last month while I was in California, my dear friend Molly visited me from New York.  Molly and I have been friends since our freshman year of college, when we were young and could drink pitcher upon pitcher of margaritas with no ill effect. Well, we’re not young anymore.  She’s a grown up lawyer in Manhattan, and I’m a grown up with, like, a husband and kid.  Molly and I still haven’t fully accepted our adulthood status yet, but it’s getting harder and harder to deny.  This last visit, we devised a little game.  “Do you know how I know I’m getting old?  [Insert depressing evidence here]”. I thought I could translate this game into my blog.  So here you go, my first “How I’m Know I’m Old” post:  Mount Fuji. Ever since we learned we would be stationed in Japan, Damon has talked about hiking Mount Fuji.  I said I would hike it with him, not because I’m a hiking enthusiast, but because every few years I have to do things like this to prove to Damon that I still love him. Anyway.  Fuji-San is only open for hiking two months out of the year, and Damon and I had a slim window to take advantage of climbing season.  He returned home the end of August on a Thursday and we left for a vacation trip to Singapore the following Monday.  Once Damon was home and settled, we scrambled to prep for the climb.  (Scrambling includes realizing at 7PM the night before your 4AM wake-up that your hiking boots have gone missing.  Way to be prepared, Diana!) This experience was a lesson in expectation management.  I knew it would be challenging to a degree – I mean, you are climbing up a mountain – but I figured, “I’m fairly athletic, I can handle this.”  (Not to mention all the children and little old ladies that complete this hike.)  In my head, I thought it would be a long but scenic stroll up the mountain.  Gradual inclines that would plateau into picturesque viewing points.  Warm and sunny at the...

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My May

Posted on May 22, 2013 in Adulthood Stole My Cool, It's the Navy Life

My May 3

You guys.  I miss you.  So much.  Do you miss me?  (Say yes!  Validate me! Validate me!) Can we talk about the last three weeks?  Holy bejeezus.  I don’t even know what happened. Oh, wait.  Yes I do.  Night Stalker returned.  And hasn’t left.  And turned into Day Stalker as well.  The. Child. Won’t. Sleep.  Between teething and a nagging cough, the kid is a mess.  And she’s turned me into a mess.  Couple that with an abnormally busy social calendar, and no blogging for me.  We all know I can only blog regularly when I maintain my shut-in status. But things are looking up.  Elisabeth’s cough is clearing up and she’s starting to return to napping.  The cough that she gave me is starting to clear up, too, so maybe one night this year I’ll get an uninterrupted night of sleep.  (Seriously, we are ALWAYS sick now!  Always!) Last night I went to bed at 9:00.  Yes, that happened.  I’m planning on doing that again tonight, so let me just give you a quick recap of my goings-on this past month. -I bought a juicer.  So that was exciting. -My friend Claudia moved.  It’s quite sad.  Soon there is going to be a mass exodus of VFA-115 spouses.  It’s part of the Navy life.  But a really crappy part.  Luckily, before the actual good-bye is always a good-bye party. -I helped plan and attended a Cinco de Mayo luncheon with a group of Japanese Officer Spouses.  Have you ever seen Japanese women try to hit a pinata?  Hi-lar-i-ous. -I went to another party.  This happened. -Damon completed an Olympic-distance triathlon.  What a stud. -I believe somewhere in there was Mother’s Day.  I’m not sure though. -I joined the board of our Atsugi Officer’s Spouse Association.  Nothing really blog-worthy here, except that I have spent a good deal of time reviewing high school scholarship applications, among other things.  And I thank the good Lord I am no longer in high school!  Can I get an “Amen” to that!? -I shattered my iPhone and had to venture off to the...

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Cookie Hell. Or, That Time Girl Scouts Turned Me Into a Dealer

Posted on Jan 18, 2013 in Adulthood Stole My Cool

I do not do drugs.  I do not condone drugs.  I never experimented with drugs.  But maybe if I had, I’d be better prepared for dealing with Girl Scouts now.  Stay with me. While I don’t believe in doing drugs, I do believe in volunteering.  Last year I wrote about volunteering with Girls on the Run, a wonderful organization dedicated to making health and fitness fun for young girls.  While we don’t have GOTR on NAF Atsugi, we do have Girl Scouts, another organization committed to building girls of strong character.  Or something like that. As you may be interested to learn, I was once a Girl Scout.*  So when I learned that the Atsugi Girl Scouts were looking for volunteers, I thought, Why not?  I figured it would be a great way to get more involved more in our community and give back a little of my time to an organization that had given so much to me.** I was wrong.  Very, very wrong. Due to my schedule, I was unable to volunteer as a leader.  Instead I was asked to take on the role of Cookie Manager.  (Co-Cookie Manager is more accurate.  I have a saint of a partner, Kat, who is way more on top of this thing than I am, bless her soul.)  It wasn’t really what I had in mind, and truth be told, I didn’t really know what the job entailed.  Again I thought, Why not?  If that’s what they needed me to do, by all means I would manage me some cookies. What I failed to take into account is that people go bat-$&!% crazy for girl scout cookies.  Straight up psycho.  People want their cookies, and they want them now.  Let’s be real for a second – they aren’t even that good.***  But it’s as if we as Americans have some weird, nostalgic connection to these cookies that compel us to buy, buy, buy and sell, sell, sell.  And the fact that they are only offered -gasp!- once a year in -gasp again!- limited quantities strikes an urgency in us to get...

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