When you’re first getting used to the constant, neurotic checking to see if your kid is still breathing, you learn to get comfortable with the extremely loud, frequent noises they make. They snuffle, sniff and snore more than drunk Santa.
You’ll start to be able to read the noises. You’ll know if a cry is coming, because it might be your turn to go get her. You’ll know if she’s just having a little coo’ing time because it’s cute but keeping you awake. You will definitely know if she, or he, took a grumper.
And you’ll get used to the clogged whistle of the congested nose. Eventually. It’s very, very dramatic. It’s also very scary when you’re not used to it. You don’t know if they can breath. They sound miserable.
So you get up to get a look.
And you’ll see just an absolute swampland of boogers, in and around the nose. Oozing across the cheeks. There might be a bubble or two creeping through with a soft ‘pop,’ like from a witch’s cauldron.
The nostrils themselves…nothing can pass through there, certainly not air. It seems unfathomable that she can breath, even though you can simultaneously SEE her breathing…
I freaked out my first time. It was the middle of the night, and when I got that look I went from groggy-but-concerned straight to there-is-no-fucking-pizza-left panic.
I had to get those boogers out. I HAD TO.
And so I bare-mouthed it. I put my mouth over that nose and I sucked those boogers out.
I gagged and gasped and spit and swore…but I felt like a hero because it worked! She was breathing clear again!
I told my wife about it later and she reminded me about the Nose Frida. It’s a handy little tool that lets you suck boogers without having to chew on them after. It was right there, 3 feet away. Turns out I should have paid more attention. Huh.
Get the Nose Frida. The Frida is your friend.
I drive a minivan and ride a motorcycle.
Enjoying the piss out of parenting - 2 kids, a girl born in 2013 and a boy in 2015.