#AtoZChallenge: ‘C’ is for Cold

My husband appointed himself the Snot Czar of our household many years ago. This means that he takes it upon himself to handle the snot issues of Baby Girl, Little Man, and myself.

Yes, even mine. I’m a 34-year-old sort of adult, and my husband thinks it’s his job to clear my nasal passages.

You’re probably thinking, “Ew” and maybe even, “Well, at least he cares,” but here’s how he used to deal with that. Instead of running the dehumidifier or cool mist sprayer, whichever of those is meant for helping with congestion, and instead of giving me Mucinex or nasal spray, he would break out the bulb-style nasal aspirator.

The first time he offered, I thought, “Why not?” He used it on Little Man (a baby at the time) and it worked. How nice that he’d go that far to help me feel better, right? I wouldn’t do it for him. (They say that in a relationship there’s always one person who loves harder than the other person, and if the whole mucus/bulb thing is any indication, clearly he’s the one who is more smitten.)

Here’s why not: it’s what I imagine it would feel like if the zombies tried to suck out my brain through my nose during the apocalypse. Instead of just sticking the tip in and suctioning a bit out, he rammed the thing up there as far as he could and I’m pretty sure he came within a millimeter or two of puncturing my brain.

It didn’t help. He insisted that I just needed to be still, stop acting like a child and squirming around, and let him do his thing.

“No, I’ll just wait and let things clear up on their own.”

It’s all fun and games until your husband chases you throughout the house, determined to use this godawful suction thing on you in an attempt to help clear up some of the crud from the monthly sinus infection.

Baby Girl was prone to having colds pretty often when she was a baby, so we constantly looked for ways to make things easier on her. We made sure she was elevated when sleeping, used a VapoRub machine, and used a bulb to get the snot out. Those didn’t help a lot, but one day we found something that did wonders for Baby Girl’s snot:

That, my friends, is the NoseFrida Snotsucker. (You can see the real deal here, and this is not an affiliate link.) It works by placing one end into the baby’s nostril and sucking the other end. Thanks to a tube and filter deal in the middle, you don’t get boogers into your mouth. It works wonders. Baby Girl hated it as much as she hated the crappy bulb, because she hates all the things, but it worked incredibly well.

I sucked snot once and passed on doing it again, because I was concerned about breathing booger air, so my husband took over responsibilities. (For the record, I would have risked booger air had my husband not been around.)

True to form, not only did my husband use the Snotsucker on BG, he also tried to use it on Little Man and me. Little Man cried as much as BG when my husband tried to use it on him, and I threatened to strangle him with it if he went near me. It would have been a shame to become a headline over something like that.

You probably weren’t expecting a kinda gross story about mucus when you saw that I was doing a Blast to the Past theme, but trust me, this is far less gross and embarrassing than the other ‘C’ post I thought of.

Thanks for joining me for the April A to Z Challenge! If you’re participating, please leave a link in the comments section so I can check out your post.

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Like Moths To A Flame

As promised, I’m going to post about the stomach bug that made its way through our house. Aside from sleep or a Star Wars marathon, nothing good happens between the hours of midnight and six in the morning — not in my over 30 world, anyway. As such, I’m going to skip over certain details and mainly talk about my kids.

To get started, here’s an idea of how I looked last Tuesday after the late night festivities.

That’s not someone you’d want to be hanging out with, is it? No, that’s someone you’d want to send a text saying, “Hope you feel better, and stay the hell away.”

That’s how most people would act. Maybe a spouse would poke his head in and ask if I wanted a drink of water or something. Or maybe he wouldn’t and get on my shit list, cough.

As you’ve likely already gathered, my children aren’t most people.

The kids were told to stay out of my room, but nothing makes them want me more than a) being on the phone or b) being sick. It sounds like Baby Girl is trying to break the door down when my husband locks it, and Little Man will grab his library card and push it between the door frame and the lock to open the door. They both have their reasons for wanting to get to me, though — very different reasons.

Remember Baby Girl’s obsession with the doctor? She loves going, and when she knows someone isn’t feeling well, she becomes very opportunistic.

I had to break it to her that, no, I wasn’t going to the doctor. “This is a virus; we don’t go to the doctor for viruses.” Not the 24-hour type, anyway.

“We go to the doctor and get you a band-aid! And a shot! And she listen to your heart with the stethoscope!”

“No.”

“We get an ambulance and go to the hospital and see doctor there?” One last shot.

“No.”

And then she largely lost interest in me.

Now for Little Man.

Little Man is a very empathetic child — he can’t stand it when I’m not feeling well and is very protective and will fawn over me. He’ll take it upon himself to bring in a trash bag to throw up in, a cold drink, and a snack, and offer to turn on my favorite TV show. He makes my heart melt with his thoughtfulness, and he’s been this way as long as I can remember.

It’s hard to say “no” to that. I gave in to a quick cuddle, explaining that I didn’t want him to get sick, too. That brief cuddle was enough, though, since the next night, this happened —

He was fine at first, but a few hours later, I heard, “Mommy, I feel like…” and then the poor kiddo puked everywhere. He happened to be lying between my husband and me in the bed when it happened, so my husband woke up to less-than-pleasant circumstances.

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Life Goals #2

The past couple of days have been rough. I’ll post more later (plus a doodle that may or may not make you lose your lunch; I haven’t decided yet), but let’s just say that the sickness has hit the Dorky household yet again. New month, same problems — stomach bugs and colds.

So as not to go four days without a new post, I’m going to use this Life Goals post that I drew a while back and have been saving. (You can read Life Goals #1 here, if you’d like.)

Let me add “Dishes Mountain, Toys Mountain, and Puke Clothes Mountain” to that. Okay, maybe Puke Clothes Mountain falls under Clothes Mountain, but trust me when I say that it has earned its own category.

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