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Mothers Without Boundaries

Candy's Column

Mothers Without Boundaries

Dear Internet,

How are you?  Ready for spring?  Oh yes, me too.  Hey, while we’re on the subject of me, I should mention that I sucked out my baby’s snot tonight.  WITH MY MOUTH.  Using a contraption called a Nosefrida Nasal Aspirator.  Snot.  Sucked out.  By me.

Done gagging yet, Internet?  Good.  I WISH I WAS.

Allow me to backtrack.  So there I was in Whole Foods this morning, scouring the cold medicine aisle for ANYTHING that could help my congested daughter breathe.  Anything.  One of the helpful clerks grabbed this little hose thingy and shoved it in my hands:  “I used this with my son when he had a cold and it worked GREAT.”  Fantastic!  Then I looked down and I gasped.  “Is this the thing where you SUCK THE BOOGERS OUT YOURSELF?”  He nodded nonchalantly, as though inhaling snot were as common as drinking water.  Ah, hell no.

“I already ate lunch today.  But maybe a booger sandwich some other day?” I scoffed.

“There’s actually a filter that prevents the mucus from entering the mouth –”

“NO, THANK YOU,” I yelled while hauling ass out of Whole Foods, also mowing down the annoying survey takers outside the store with the stroller on my way.

Another afternoon filled with steamy bathrooms, saline drops, Vicks BabyRub — and no progress on the congestion front.  Miss Skye can’t breathe at all, making it almost impossible to nurse.  I try feeding her with a dropper — Yes!  Like a baby bird! — and a sippy cup, and she’s all, awesome!  Thanks for the appetizer, Mom.  NOW WHERE IS MY DAMN MEAL?  I fear she is becoming dehydrated and, heaven help me, my mind starts going to a very, very dark place.  A dark place with a nose hose.

Internet, I googled “suck baby snot.”  AND I LIKED WHAT I READ.

I’ll be damned if I didn’t haul my ass back to Whole Foods (incognito, of course, so the clerk couldn’t say “told ya so”) and pick up one of the nasal aspirators.  Oh, and from here on out, Internet…?  It shall be referred to as a “nasal aspirator.”  Makes it sound less gag-worthy.  So, anyway, I then lugged my child up to her room, put the hose thingy aspirator to her nostril and SUCKED.  And… well, I wish this story had a Hollywood ending, but alas… Skye screamed and cried.  I screamed and cried.  And, despite filling the tube a quarter of the way with nastiness, I still didn’t manage to remove enough of it to help her breathe and nurse freely.

That’s right.  I, a woman who gags at the sight of gooey oysters for crying out loud, gathered enough nerve to suck out my daughter’s snot and it was ALL FOR NOTHING.

In other, TOTALLY unrelated news, just wait till Mr. Candy tries my Valentine’s Day appetizers with my new “top secret ingredient!”  Mmmmm.

Yours in snot,

Candy

P.S.  My poor sick baby:

You’re gonna do WHAT to me?

Because sharing is caring, as I tell my kids. (Except my wine. Never my wine.)
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Candy Kirby is the founder of The Laughing Stork and a professional fun-maker who will never stop chasing her lifelong dream: to find the Pomeranian or porn star after whom her parents must have named her. A humor columnist for Disney, Nickelodeon, Scary Mommy, Reductress and Redbook, she also used to be a staff writer for the soap opera, The Bold and the Beautiful, where she penned many scripts featuring prolonged heated stares and countless “Who’s the Daddy?” story lines. Candy lives in Los Angeles with her husband, two young kids and three rescue Persian cats, the latter of whom are the real brains behind this operation (so send all complaints to them).

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