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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The Problem Child’s Perspective

Posted on Sep 14, 2014 in My Kid Stole My Cool, The Kids Are Actually Cute

The Problem Child’s Perspective 1

Mom, I think we need to clear the air. A few days ago at the doctor’s office, you called me, “your problem child.”  You said it in that high-pitched baby-talk voice while smiling and tickling me, which makes me think you were kinda-sorta joking.  But I think you were maybe also kinda-sorta serious. Is it because of the ringworm? Look. I have no idea how I got ringworm.  You’re the adult. You figure it out.   I get it.  It’s weird.  I have been exposed to absolutely nothing that would give me ringworm.  After all, we never go anywhere on account of me screaming every time I get in the car. But looks what happens when you take me out in public! I GET NASTY FUNGAL INFECTIONS! Can you blame me for shrieking the entirety of every single car ride? It’s my only defense!  And besides, all the rest of the time I’m pretty much the smiliest, happiest baby ever, so I think you’ve got it pretty good.  But back to the ringworm – let’s just chalk this up to one of life’s great mysteries.  I have it, now move on. Could it be this allergic colitis thing? Is that why I’m the “problem child”? I hear you complaining about not eating dairy anymore.  Or egg.  Or soy, which according to you is in everything.  And I know all you want is to dig into a massive pizza with a side of ice cream.  (And real ice cream. Not that coconut milk crap.)  But seriously, Mom.  First. World. Problems.  I’m the one bleeding from my gut, remember? Is a little sympathy too much to ask? Besides, the vegan cookies you baked can’t be that bad.  I mean, you ate the entire batch in like, three days. Or maybe it’s because I don’t sleep?  I don’t really understand what the problem is.  I just love you so much I want to hang out with you all the time! That’s a good thing, right?  I know that since daddy is deployed and you’re on your own for now that the nights are...

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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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My Sweet Baby James

Posted on Jul 1, 2014 in It's the Navy Life, My Kid Stole My Cool, Pregnancy Stole My Cool, The Kids Are Actually Cute

My Sweet Baby James 0

Labor. People say you forget about the pain of labor, or else you wouldn’t ever have more than one child. BS. I certainly didn’t forget.  Maybe I didn’t remember the exact type of pain, but I sure remembered that it hurt. A lot. And not just during labor, but after. For some reason, none of the books or blogs or classes I read or took during my first pregnancy mentioned anything about postpartum recovery. Perhaps they reasoned ignorance is bliss.  Expectant mothers: You’re in for a surprise! But I won’t ruin it for you… Anyway, armed with the knowledge of just how much pain was coming my way, I started to freak out a bit.  Especially because I know many women who are really into natural childbirth, and therefore I felt like I should be really into natural childbirth. Hey – I’m just as badass as they are! If they can do childbirth without pain medication, so can I!  But the prospect was still scary. As I approached my due date, my doctor insisted I would deliver early.*  She was wrong, but at the time her predictions forced me to face reality. Labor was coming. Pain was coming. So I psyched myself up.  I’m active! I’m strong! I do yoga and know how to breathe! I can do this! (Plus, I have no choice.)  I even got kind of zen about the whole thing. Childbirth has nothing on me! And then labor actually happened.  If you read my last blog post, you know that I spent the 36 hours before labor running around Orange County visiting various doctors, and went into labor late Thursday night. It was a restless two days, followed by a restless night of contractions.  Point is, when I did go into labor I was tired.  And a little stressed out.  All of a sudden I wasn’t so badass. At first, I just kept moving through the contractions.   Hey, this isn’t so bad! I thought to myself.  I can totally handle this.  And then the contractions started coming faster.  Like, a lot faster. Wait, hold up. I...

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The Full-Term Fall

Posted on Jun 19, 2014 in My Kid Stole My Cool, Pregnancy Stole My Cool

The Full-Term Fall 1

Hello! I’m back! (For today at least.) Why the blogging hiatus? I had a baby.  And get this – newborns are tiring.  My newborn pretty much eats all the time, and when he’s not eating, I have a toddler that I need to pay attention to so she remembers that I love her, too.  Anyway, here’s the cutie at 5 days old:     And of course, with his adoring sister:   Now, I know a lot of pregnant women right now.  Seriously, a lot.  This blog post is for them.  I want to offer my personal experience as a guide for what not to do when you’re pregnant. Particularly at the very end of your pregnancy.  Say, the day before your due date.  Pretend you are due on a Thursday.  This guide begins Wednesday morning.  Read and learn and watch your step. 1)  Wednesday morning:  Roll your ankle and fall – hard – on your butt while you’re carrying your 34-lb toddler. 2)   Wednesday afternoon: Go to the hospital for an ultrasound and fetal monitoring.  (Note: Besides a throbbing ankle, I felt totally fine. I wasn’t even going to call my doctor and tell her about the fall, but then I got scared she would scold me the next day at my 40-week check up for not calling.  Just be aware, if you are super pregnant and you fall down, they will always make you go to the hospital for testing.) 3)   Three hours later (yup, 3 hours for me!) you will be released from the hospital.  Everything is fine.  (But hey, in that 3 hours you might get to grab a nap! Upside!) 4)   Thursday morning (the due date): Go to one of your doctor’s office locations for MORE testing. Just in case.  Everything is still fine. 5)   Thursday afternoon: Go to your doctor’s second office location for your 40-week check up. Pretend not to be bitter when the doctor says pleasantly, “I’m surprised to see you here!” This doctor will, after all, have been predicting your early delivery for the past five weeks.  LIAR! I mean…...

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Disneyland During Spring Break: I Went So You Don’t Have To

Posted on May 8, 2014 in My Kid Stole My Cool, Travel Traumas

Disneyland During Spring Break: I Went So You Don’t Have To 4

Spring break season is over. As Elisabeth is not yet school-aged, I don’t think in terms of break schedules.  So when Damon visited last March and we decided to take Elisabeth to Disneyland, we didn’t consider that half the state of California (and the entire U.S.) would be on spring break and visiting Disneyland with us. While we lived in Japan, Damon routinely brought up the idea of visiting Tokyo Disney.  I routinely shot down that idea.  It was too crowded, too expensive, and Elisabeth was too young to enjoy or remember it.  I am a cold, heartless woman, I know. But things were different now.*  Despite my efforts at shielding Elisabeth from the more annoying of Disney characters, she is enamored of Mickey and Minnie Mouse.  She’s old enough to have fun on rides.  Though she would not remember the trip, she’d enjoy it in the moment.  Plus, this was going to be our last time together as a family of three.  Why not do something special?  Disneyland is magical! It’s the Happiest Place on Earth! What could be more special than that? Well, unless you think “special” entails pushing your way through hoards of tourists and waiting in endless lines while trying to keep your impatient child (or children) entertained, DON’T go to Disneyland during spring break.  Just don’t. Because this is what your visit will be like: -Take 30 minutes to find parking. -Wait 20 minutes for a shuttle to the park, or walk the 20 minutes to the entrance. -Wait another 30 minutes in line for exorbitantly priced tickets. (Note to military spouses – Disneyland does not offer military discounts for single day passes. You have to waste three days of your life there if you want a discount.) -Decide to take your daughter out of line and let her run around the courtyard that separates Disneyland and California Adventure. Marvel at her excitement at recognizing the characters that decorate the flagpoles.  “Hot dog!” she will squeal with glee, because for some inexplicable reason she will think Goofy’s name is “Hot Dog.”  Wonder why you...

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