Nobody NOSE The Trouble We’ve Seen

Welp.

We’re alive and kicking, and I’m counting that as a good thing after the past few weeks we’ve seen!

I mean, myyyyyy heavens. It’s just been such a funny kind of awful run of events that’s led to some crummy weeks.

But.

I’m hoping that yesterday was the end of that round of subpar yuck—even though I said that last week, too!—and it’s only going to be upward momentum from here. (Please, please, puh-lease!)

And yet...one final bit of ridiculous annoyance before we can officially wipe our slate clean:

Yesterday, we were driving home after picking up lunch, and Little Man started whining about a rock up his nose and how it was going to hurt to remove it.

And silly me, I was liked “no buddy, you’ve just had boogies, and sometimes when they get crusty, they feel like rocks. Mama will help you.”

But his whining turning into full-blown snotty crying, and then he went into very specific detail about said rock—that he’d apparently shoved up his nose the afternoon before, while at the playground, picking up Chica from school.

Oye.

Sure enough, an examination with my iPhone flashlight one we returned home confirmed said rock up nose, and the validity of his (belated) confession.

And after one failed attempt at extricating with tweezers (he was moving too much and I was afraid I’d shove it further up there)...off to the doctor we went.

I’m ashamed to admit that I didn’t try too many techniques beyond the tweezers at home, and in the end, the doc was able to get him to force it out with pressure being blocked in the free nostril. But...I suppose I’m still glad we went so she could verify that he hadn’t shoved anything else up there. And it’s not like it was the tiniest pebble in the world. It was a decent size, to this Mama’s eyes!



Chicklet was gamely along for the ride, and quite impressed with it too, ha.



And, look—smiles and free nostrils for all.



Not gonna lie—there are sooooo many other things I would have rather been doing during nap time yesterday (especially with particularly tired babies), but I guess this is a rite of passage we hadn’t yet “enjoyed.”

Although here’s hoping we don’t “enjoy” it again anytime soon, and that my Little Man learned his lesson.

HAPPY FREAKING WEEKEND, and more on our lovey Saturday later!

Over and out.