gross kid

When I decided to have children I had a very idealistic perspective of what it would be like. I swore I knew what was coming. Yes, I know I’ll get a little spit up on me and have to change diapers, but they are so wonderful. Look at all of the diaper commercials. Look at how perfect babies and kids are. I was ready. I was prepared. Bring me my baby!

No, I wasn’t ready. Kids are gross! Sure, they are cute and sweet and adorable. Of course, they are. They smell really good fresh out of the bath. We love to snuggle them when they sleep, looking peaceful and angelic, but don’t be fooled. Pay close attention. They are really disgusting. They will projectile poop right on you and they are not even sorry!

I’ve since had four children and I run a daycare. All of my idealism has been shattered. Below is a list of some of the things I encounter daily and part of the reason my husband says he can’t do my job.

Kids will eat anything. When I say they’ll eat anything, I do not mean food. They won’t eat anything you want them to eat. A piece of broccoli or cauliflower will never willing cross their lips, but they will put everything in their mouth that should NEVER be eaten. Wood chips, cat food, gum that someone else chewed and stuck to a railing four years ago. BOOGERS! All of these are greedily deposited like candy to be fished out by you in total panic. They need to lick everything as though it’s fun-value is measured by what it tastes like. Babies will choose a rattle by flavor more often than by colors or sound. If you are choosing a new toy for a baby and want to be sure it is the right one, give it a lick. If you like it the baby probably will. I’m sure Target is just fine with that.

There is always, and I mean always, something nasty coming out of a kid’s nose. I don’t I need to explain very much. They are booger mines with an over abundant supply of treasure. They make green, brown, and yellow primarily. If it isn’t dripping or being sneezed out, they will go in and get it. I have a box of tissue on every counter top and table in my house, but someone always has a finger knuckle deep up their nose around here. Odds are good they are going to eat whatever they find, or even worse, offer it up to you as a gift. No. Thanks.

If they aren’t doing it, they are talking about it. Usually at dinner. Everybody poops. I get it. If these people aren’t pooping and generally causing the air to turn green around them and melt my eyeballs with stink, then they are discussing it.  In detail. Repeatedly. At the top of their lungs. Face it. Poop and farts are funny no matter how old you are.  Little kids are just more honest about it. Go ahead say it.  Poop.  Fart.  Can’t do it without smiling. (My six year old just told me, with great delight, that he has farted eight times today.  EIGHT!)

Little kids are very wet. Along with the nose thing, there is always some sort of… liquid coming out of a kid. They are either sneezing, drooling, or have a runny nose, or they are putting saliva all over everything. Because kids have zero sense of personal space they are usually putting it all over you! At the end of the day not only does a child’s sleeve look like a slug raced the Daytona 500 all over them, but my shoulders look suspiciously shiny, as well. I don’t even want to think about how many times I’ve been holding a child and suddenly felt warm. Not the nice kind of snuggly kid warm, but the I-just-got-peed-on kind of warm.

I refuse to share a cup with my child. Or yours. I am certainly happy to give a drink to a child, but after that I really don’t want it back. Have you ever looked inside a cup after a little one has taken a drink?  Half of their dinner is in there! I am not going to partake of that mess. I will literally die of dehydration before I share with a tiny tot.  Not happening.

With all of this nastiness, I still love them. Under all of that germy, sticky, snotty, icky-ness are curious, wide eyed, innocent little people. They are full of wonder and joy. They are constantly looking to you and me to teach them about the world. And to wipe their drippy little nose.

Carry wet wipes.

Constantly, I’m serious.

Did I miss anything?  Add to the list in the comments.