On Mucus and Other Bodily Fluids

I know what you’re thinking.  With a title like that, I can’t wait to get reading!  Tell me more about the mucus!  But seriously, I have something to say, a letter of sorts that I have decided to inflict on all of you because you have decided to come on this journey with us and frankly this is part of the journey, like it or not…

Dear snot,

Why must you constantly pour from my child’s nose at all hours of the day and night? How can there be that much of you in his tiny head? Logistically speaking, that doesn’t seem possible.

Why do you show up in every picture, either as a tentative explorer peeking out of a nostril or as a smeared and dried layer of shellac on my son’s cheek? It’s just rude, is what it is. Do we show up to ruin your family photos?

I get it. You’re not as gross as some things. It could be worse. It could be blood. Or puke. Excuse me while I shudder violently here for a moment.

I’m not like a super big fan of feces (I mean who is, right?), but I can handle mucus and feces better than blood and puke. So, I guess I should just be glad he doesn't have a chronic nausea issue and isn't afflicted with some stigmata type wound that constantly gushes blood. (I don't know how realistic that is, but I'm trying to be positive here. Just go with it.)

It could be worse. Of course I know it could be so much worse. It could be a broken bone or a chronic disease or cancer. I understand, and believe me I am thrilled it is only a lifetime supply of never ending snot.

And yet, dear snot, I would like to kindly ask you to go the heck away.  Please. Pretty pretty please.

Sincerely,
One kleenex-wielding momma who has just about had enough of you already, mucus

Well, now that I've gotten that out of my system,  I can move on to more pleasant things.  We do have one child who is not constantly leaking snot, and yesterday was that kid's 6th birthday.  For the record, six years is almost long enough to forgive Nico for a labor that began on Wednesday and ended on Friday.  Almost.  He was high maintenance even from the womb, I tell you.

Anyway, even though the boys had a big party on Friday, we couldn't resist having a small celebration yesterday.  Nico was thrilled to bring cookies to his classmates, and the school book fair happened to fall on his birthday, which Nico took as a sign that his birthday is a kind of a big deal.  Then, we had presents and the obligatory cage match of man vs. toy packaging (a completely unfair match, by the way, because have you seen the positively medieval binding systems they are putting on toy packaging these days?).  As we were settling in at the end of the day to watch Mary Poppins and eat cupcakes, Nico told me it was pretty much a perfect day.  A mother can't ask for too much more. Except perhaps a lifetime supply of kleenex.  And someone to follow Lincoln around and wipe his nose approximately every 34 seconds.

Ok, maybe just one more teeny little thing.  Can the child learn to smile for the camera already?  Nico's posed pictures are downright painful.

Seriously, ask this kid to smile for the camera, and all you're going to get are strange Muppet faces.

 

This one's better, but it still has that look of "I'm smiling through extreme abdominal pain."

 
Happy birthday, kid.  You can thank me later for your complete lack of photogenic tendencies.  Way, way later, I'm guessing.  I'd help you get those toys out of the packing, but I just wiped your brother's nose and I have to go wash my hands now...