Everything Happened | vol. 211

Snoo: A Revioo

The first thing I have to say is that I have no business reviewing the Snoo responsive “smart” bassinet because I did not quite use it as intended!! But since this is my newsletter, I am going to do it anyway.

The short version is that it’s a useful device if you can afford it, and that improved parental sleep is a worthier investment than almost any other thing Instagram et al is trying to sell expecting parents.

The long version follows:

My oldest child will turn 7 this year and my recall of his first months of life still hits sharp as a whiff of acetone. I’ve had two newborn babies since then and each time, I can’t help but relitigate those newborn days with my first. I do think the vise grip of overwhelm could have been loosened by a willingness to throw out approaches that clearly weren’t working. However, wisdom tends to only follow experience and is annoyingly not available as like, a supplement or tincture to be dumped into your smoothie, Jamba Juice-style.

But.

I also think he was a really hard baby! He wasn’t a full-out colicky “purple” screaming kind of guy—not usually—but he fussed, cried, and squirmed pretty much constantly. It wasn’t enough to be held, he needed to be held while I paced. When he needed to be fed at night, he would announce it with an arresting shriek-cry that sounded like a braking subway train. It flooded my body with adrenaline. He was hard to resettle after a feed, and then when I got him settled, I couldn’t get back to sleep because of the all-natural organic hormonal uppers situation. Sometimes, I would lightly suffocate myself with my pillow as a means to trick my body into falling back asleep. I would repeat this for as many times as he woke at night, often 4-5 times. Then I’d wake up for another day of never ever sitting down.

Anyway, I was fully in these trenches when I attended a party. Desi was maybe 9 or 10 weeks old. A few partygoers were expecting their first babies, but I think I was the only parent there. I braced myself to be peppered with questions — surely these people would be dying to consult me! With my WEEKS of expertise! I would shoot straight but still gas them up about the good parts, I decided. How lucky they were to have a friend like me.

Except that first-time pregnant people mainly want to spin out with anxiety and excitement to their fellow pregnants. Anyone with real kids harshes the mellow, with their “just-you-waits.” I get it, man. I had passed through the veil seemingly yesterday and yet I still felt like a walking, talking version of the Matt Damon face-shriveling gif from Saving Private Ryan.

So I mainly listened to other people speculate about birth while I scalded my tongue on cheese dip from a mini crock pot. Desi was in the front carrier, dozing and cosplaying a chill baby.

One of the dads-to-be approached me. A gentle, polite guy, the kind who probably researches best hot/cold travel mug on Wirecutter instead of just grabbing one from an endcap at the grocery store. He cooed over the the baby and commented on how calm he was. And I mean, sure, he was dead asleep. Maybe it was the half glass of wine, more alcohol than my body was used to, or maybe it was the jolt of my recent life-electrifying experience finally being acknowledged at this gathering, but I just pulled the rip cord on this man. About how hard the nights were and how tired I was and how sleep deprivation is recognized by the Geneva Convention as torture ha ha ha if you get my meaning ha ha ha.

His eyes went a little glassy and blank. Then he said, “Well, have you heard of the 5 S’s?”

I don’t think I stuck around much longer.

Guys. I had super heard of the 5 S’s, which are a foundation of celeb pediatrician Harvey Karp’s bestseller “Happiest Baby on the Block.” They are five words that begin with S that describe actions you can take to soothe a fussy baby. When they work, they work! When they don’t, they don’t. I was only a few months into the gig but I had already internalized that all baby advice was bad. Not because it never worked, but because babies are individuals that arrive pre-programmed with a suite of bespoke preferences only discernible by endless trial and error until they move out of your house one day. Anyone who claims otherwise is deeply sus. Like this guy, the good doctor himself, who is 71 years old per Wikipedia (????)

Celeb doctors are creepy, that’s a given. Isn’t being a highly trained doctor, healer, receiver of fat paychecks enough? You need to go on a talk show and sell branded supplements? You could have just been a Billy Mays type and avoided all that studying! I also find it important to mention that Harvey Karp is a parent but he has never himself raised a child from infancy. His stepdaughter was 7 when he met her. I mean, maybe ol’ Harv moonlit during medical school as a night nurse for babies, but I remain doubtful that the man has ever woken up in the grip of primal panic because a subway car is braking eight inches from his face in a Moses basket.

What I’m saying is that Dr. Karp and I have some history. I don’t think this guy is a hack or a fraud. I just think he’s a huckster. Hucksters huck! It’s what they do.

When I heard a few years ago that his Happiest Baby brand was selling a $1,500 robot bassinet called the Snoo, I was like, lol of course. The device itself sounded really handy but the price point put it beyond my reach.

But then they started offering it as a rental for a far more accessible $135/month. Shipped to you for free. I decided to go for it. And it was great.

You sort of strap the baby into a swaddle that’s attached to the little bassinet mattress, preventing baby from rolling and getting stuck face down or in a corner. The mattress then, with the baby velcroed in place, sways within the bassinet when you turn it on. The first time you see your baby being jostled around in this thing, you can’t help but think of The Exorcist bed scene. You get used to it though.

There is white noise that accompanies each level of movement. If your baby starts to cry, the white noise and motion are cranked up by the device. After a certain amount of time, if the baby is still making noise, the device stops. Now it’s mom or dad’s turn.

My baby, my unscientifically significant n of 1, slept well in this bassinet. The Snoo, as a smart device, is meant to be app-connected but after a few times of it rejecting our house WiFi, we gave up on that gladly. I hate smart things in the home, so this was a relief to us. We pushed the button on it to make it go. We pushed the button on it to make it stop. She liked being swayed in her sleep. Who wouldn’t?

Not using the app meant that we did not have access to the sleep data insights that Snoo provides. I did not care to have this info so I did not miss it. Data puts some people at ease, but not me.

A few weeks ago, we noticed Polly was getting a little cramped in the Snoo and so we decided to return it before the next billing cycle hit. How would she do in a crib, a famously Dumb Device, one that didn’t respond to her movement and noises? My lil n=1 has done fine. She’s nearly 5 months now. The Snoo has a “weaning” function where the device starts limiting the responsiveness features slowly. Handy! I did not use this function, though, because I forgot.

Here’s where I think we got it wrong: we should have bought it. The rental feature is really nice because while you might not have $1500 all at once to bet on a device that could be underwhelming, you might have $135 or so every month. However, the resale market for these things is robust. A friend of mine bought hers for her first kid, will use it for the second she’s expecting, and likely recoup much of the initial cost in resale. I used mine for five billing cycles because I wanted it delivered a few weeks before my due date, just in case. So that ended up costing us $675 overall, plus the cost to ship it back (not free.)

A decent chunk of change! Worth it for the improved sleep for Nick and I and for the baby, but we probably could have netted more savings in reselling it. Especially if we had bought it used to begin with!

We’ll never have another baby so this information doesn’t mean much for us! But maybe it will mean something to you! If you decide to enrich Dr. Karp and buy this device, I don’t think you’ll regret it. But maybe enrich a neighbor selling theirs instead.

squish

yr mate,
Evie
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