I wrote an article recently titled "Parenting: The Shittiest Job You'll Ever Love." I meant it in the most literal sense. I then got to thinking about some of the other disgusting, yet oft-ignored facets of this beautiful endeavor called parenthood. Here, in my opinion, are the most disgusting aspects of raising small kids:

1. Bottles & Sippies

First of all, I'll start with the bottles. I am BY CHOICE not a breast-feeder (go on and post your hate mail in the comments section below). Admittedly, it would be easier to carry meals around in my bra, but I use bottles.

I have tried them all. The weirdest ones are shaped like an actual boob.  Seriously. Would you pull that out at a nice restaurant? It reminds me of a coffee mug that my mechanic had on his desk shaped like (you guessed it) a big ole ta-ta. Ewwww. Then there is the washing and drying of the formula-caked fast-or-slow-flow nipples. Just the words kind of creep me out.

Then, they graduate to Sippy Cups, aka "Sippies." What parents did before Sippies, I don't know. We didn't have them growing up. I guess that's why I was thirsty so much of the time. The advent of the Sippy Cup has allowed parents to offer their cherubs tumblers of juice or chocolate milk anytime, anywhere, without fearing a spill.

What IS frightening, however, is if you forget one in the bottom of your $200 Petunia Pickle Bottom. Or if one rolls under the back seat of the family SUV, in, say, July.  By the time you find it 2 months later (face it, you get your car washed every 2 months - you have kids now) the dairy-based contents are in a suspended semi-solid state.  It's foul. You argue with your spouse as to who will clean out the mess, and whether it is worth it to just throw it away. Sippies costing what they do (around $5 a pop) someone ultimately gets stuck with the task of scraping the curds and whey out of the offending Nemo-themed tumbler of foulness. That person must do their best not to wretch as the solids first slide down the garbage disposal followed by a mysterious rush of clear liquid underneath. I cannot imagine what this looks like under a microscope.

2. Car Seats and Strollers

Much is made of the car seat/stroller selection process. So many cute patterned fabrics to choose from! So many different options and features, bells and whistles!  However, what would really be awesome is if some car seat maker could invent one with a built-in garbage disposal. This way it could gobble and pulverize the hairy Cheerios, rock-hard french fries, and dusty goldfish crackers that makes their way in between the seat cracks.

Until they figure a way to do this without maiming small children, I'll continue to classify the contents of my kids car seats as "emergency survival food" should we ever become trapped inside the SUV.

As far as strollers go, there is no way to keep them clean, so I have given up trying. I own over 6 strollers, and despite my good intentions, one is just more filth-encrusted than the next.  Glancing over the stroller's upholstry is like taking a stroll down memory lane. "Oh, look! There is still a little piece of deep fried Twinkie from the County Fair stuck inside the cup holder!"  It is repulsive,

Removing and opening a stroller from the back of my car is like cracking open a really nasty pinata. Yesterday I hit the jackpot when I opened the stroller and out fell a half-eaten McDonald's cheeseburger, one Dora the Explorer figurine, a plastic baggie of Cheez-It dust, and one mud-caked Croc. Sweet! Show her what she's won, Bob!

3. Boogies and Vomit and Ear Wax, OH MY!

What the hell is it that causes some kids to pick their noses and eat it? Aside from the aforementioned bit about our strollers and car seats, I consider my husband and I to be clean people. So how is it that our 5 and 2 year olds are a couple of nose-pickers? WHY DO THEY DO IT?

 I have concluded that because I have never once attempted to sample my own boogies, it must be me. Maybe kids know something we don't. Remember in Alice in Wonderland, where she sips from the bottle labeled "Drink Me" and the potion tastes like blueberries, then apple pie, then a full turkey dinner?  I have decided that so it must also be with my kids' snot. Otherwise, why would they dine on Boogs so frequently? Must be because they taste like pumpkin pie. All I can do is keep slapping their hands away, and hope that they grow out of it.

That brings me to vomit, or "choke-up" as it is referred to in our household. I thought I saw a lot of puke in college. Honey, college has NOTHIN' on childrearing where disgusting puke-filled nights are concerned. My kids came equipped with especially sensitive gag reflexes, so even the thought of having to eat something healthy on their plate can set their palates to watering, signaling an upcoming choke-up tidal wave, and thus ensuring their quick dismissal from the dinner table. I know they are playing me. I don't care. I can't deal with up-chuck. I just can't.

Also, why is it that kids have ear wax deposits the size of the "World's Largest Gold Nugget" (on display at the famous Golden Nugget Casino, in seedy downtown Las Vegas)? WHY? It's one of life's mysteries. And anyone telling me not to go excavating in my kid's ears with a Q-Tip can just. . .well, I can't resist. . .stick it in their ear.

4. Food

Earlier today, out of laziness and exhaustion, I actually fed my 10 month old from a jar of baby food labeled "Veggies, Macaroni, and Wild Salmon Dinner." Blecchh. But she loved it. That's the thing about kid food - they will eat things we wouldn't touch on a bet. Yogurt slurped from a tube? Baloney with ketchup on white bread? They are all over it.

5. Potty Training

This is the vilest of vile parenting challenges. Potty training, even at it's best, is a disgusting, frustrating endeavor. The increase in laundry from "accidents." The realization that if a toddler can't tear off the toilet paper herself, she will just use her hand. The hieroglyphic "poo art" on the bathroom walls. It's a wonder that anyone ever gets their kids potty trained at all. I am certain that if diapers were $1.99 per pack, my kids would be in them until they were 12, or maybe 13, for convenience sake alone.

Of course as parents we take the good with the bad. The tantrums with the butterfly kisses. The ups with the downs,  If I couldn't laugh, I am certain that I would be crying tears of horror all day long.  And that won't do, because I have to go make dinner right now. 

Maybe I will just see what I can rustle up out of the kid's car seats.