Gambling it all on the Neti-Pot

Like so many families right now, we’ve been in the throes of Hell Week.  Granted, we may have less of the physical extremism accorded to the Navy SEALS version of this, less of the hazing found in fraternity initiations, and less intensive exams than during college finals, but let me be clear: we’re in Hell Week.  More accurately, it’s more like Ongoing-for-an-undetermined-period-of-time Desperation, but things aren’t good.

Here’s the thing about one family member getting sick: another family member will get it.  And then every other family member will get it too.  By the time Person 1 is feeling better, they will promptly go out and pick up a new illness to spread around so the cycle starts all over again.  It’s never-ending fun.  Sick kids are just a hoot, and being sick as parents is the best.  No words can appropriately describe the unique joy of changing poopy diapers and fielding sibling spats while rocking a raging head cold.  And/or possible flu, but who has time for fancy things like going to the doctor?  We’re in Hell Week here, people.

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I decided I had to get a handle on this.  Up until the whole scary story that broke a bit ago about neti pot-related deaths, I was a faithful daily user.  I filled up my little ceramic pot with warm salted water and poured away through my nostrils.  But after hearing of these horrid incidents, in a flash of possible over-reactiveness, I freaked out, set my pot aside and rocked a very unflushed nose for months.

Until this week.  I decided to declare war on this cycle of sickness.

My husband had been telling me all along that I was being crazy; shunning the neti pot was extreme and irrational.  I still wasn’t entirely sure, but I knew I was sick of being sick.  Back in my heyday of loving on my pot, I got colds rarely.  Very rarely.  Sure, there are extraneous variables thrown in the mix now, like the addition of preschool to our lives, but still…if this could help break up the Hell Week party, it was time to reunite with the neti pot.

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There are always pretty clouds behind my head when I am pouring stuff through my nose

I whipped it out and gave it a good wash.  I dramatically kissed my children good bye, told them to “Blame your father if anything goes wrong” (he was, after all, the one that encouraged me to get the pot back out), and went into the bathroom for some private time (I have learned to poop with an audience, but somehow pouring water through my nose remains a private affair).

It’s been 5 days.  I’m still living for now.  And my nostrils are very clean.

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Meredith

Meredith blogs at The Mom of the Year, where she dedicatedly earns her title one epic parenting fail at a time, offering quick, relatable laughs for fellow parents and all their empathizers. She has been part of several best-selling anthologies, featured on prominent sites such as Huffington Post, In the Powder Room and BlogHer, and loves her role as the Executive VP/Operations Manager of The BlogU Conference. When she's not breaking up fights over Legos and juice boxes, she remains fully committed to sharing a less serious look at the world of parenting.

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