I’m not entirely sure why I haven’t blogged lately. I can’t exactly say it’s been a lack of inspiration because Tyler is doing new, funny things just about every day. Is there such a thing as blogger’s block? Like writer’s block, but I am far from a writer. With the nicer weather, we (the family) have all been outside a lot more, which lessens the time I spend on the computer. Officially, and publicly, I’m saying it’s a lack of time. Privately, I just feel like I don’t have the "words" for what I want to say.

Tyler’s got a bunch of green goo coming out of his nose. He isn’t acting sick, at all, so we’re operating under the assumption that he’s teething. Since babies are essentially in a perpetual state of teething for the first few years of their lives, I could be both right and wrong in our diagnosis. Unfortunately, Tyler HATES getting his face washed. More than that, hate is a severe understatement of how he feels about getting his nose wiped off. He screams until there isn’t an iota of oxygen left in his tiny lungs. I sometimes wonder if he’ll forget to breathe. It’s around that time that he sucks air in, and repeats his lung-draining yells for Child Protective Services to come and save him from the evil, nose-cleansing washrag of doom.

At the opposite end of the spectrum, Tyler LOVES the blue bulb that I call the "booger sucker". It resembles a turkey baster in both appearance and function. The two primary differences are that the booger sucker is much shorter than a turkey baster, and the booger sucker sucks boogers out of a baby’s nose, whereas a turkey baster has no affiliation with boogers… unless you’re using it incorrectly. As a side note, our turkey baster has served other purposes than just squirting turkey juices on a cooking turkey. It is currently stained a shade of red, because Sarah used it to make Jell-O shots at one point for a work-outing that I attended a few years ago.

The origins of Tyler’s love of the booger sucker are unknown. When I’ve previously used it, I would make weird noises and laugh in the hopes that Tyler would tolerate its infiltration into his nostrils. It worked, to an extent. Recently, while, uhh…. expelling Tyler’s nose treasure onto a paper towel, it make a very sickening slurping noise. Hearing it makes Sarah’s stomach turn. I’m not a fan of the noise, but I can handle it. Tyler started laughing his little butt off at the sound. Since then, I’ve made quite the ordeal of blowing the snot onto a papertowel. The level of joy in his laughter is directly proportional to the amount of drama I put into the action. The best responses come when I act as if it takes every ounce of strength in my body to dislodge the yellow-green blockage from the neck of the booger sucker. If this results in the nasty slurping sound, Tyler is even more joyed and doubles his laughter. It’s now at the point where he starts laughing as soon as he sees the mucous evacuation device in my hands.

My current goal is to try to get the same reaction from Tyler while washing his face. And why not? I like taking on the impossible tasks. So far, not so good. Try as I might, the evil, nose-cleansing washrag of doom is just as evil as it ever was. Sound effects be damned, Tyler hates the rag monster.

Note: After typing this post out and before pressing the “Publish” button, Sarah informs me that she’s got a sore throat and a runny nose. So, it looks as if Tyler’s less-than-awesome attitude and his green goo situation may have indeed been due to being sick. Sorry, little one; we honestly thought you were teething.

Second note: See the medicine in the background of the booger sucker picture? Yeah, Tyler’s right ear was in really bad shape when he went to the doctor. His left ear looked great, but the doctor "winced” when she looked at his right ear. The words “red” and “bulging” were used. He’s got three weeks to get better. After that, she’s referring us to an ENT (Ear, Nose and Throat) Specialist.