10 Disgusting Things I'd Rather Do Than Deal With Goddamn Morning Sickness

Something about the warm soapy water really relaxes a baby, or their bowels anyway. There's something truly horrific about poo in a place it doesn't belong. A bathtime floater is not for the faint of heart, but at least I can put on a rubber glove and pretend it's a little brown bath toy.

Not only would I exterminate maggots before I'd deal with debilitating morning sickness again, but I would exterminate maggots on Mother's Day. Yes, this actually happened.

Let me be clear: I keep a pretty clean house. However, I cannot always control errant pieces of chicken flying from my toddler's high chair. Apparently, I relied too much on the dog to take care of those because I woke up that Sunday to larvae on my floor. Dozens of them. Clean up involved copious amounts of paper towels, squeezing, gagging, and bleach. F*cking disgusting, yes, but at least it was over in an hour.

If I'm being truthful with myself, I don't even think this is icky anymore. It's just practical (plus, I'm saving the environment by not using paper products, or at least that's what I tell myself). So I'll go as far as to say that I'll keep that mucus shirt on all day rather than suffer the agony that is morning sickness.

Is it just me, or does dog poop have special properties that allow it to mold to the design on the bottom of children's shoes. The smell makes me gag, but honestly, it's not that bad. Let it dry out and then pick it out with a bamboo skewer (pro tip), and Bob's your uncle. I'd like to see a nausea solution that easy (I'm looking at you, ineffective sea bands).

One Halloween, before I was a parent, I dressed up as a crime scene investigator (complete with a flashlight, gloves, and a CSI jacket). I had a little too much to drink and was afraid I was going to retch in the taxi home, so I threw up into my rubber glove, turned it inside out, and tied that bad boy up. These days, I'll hold out my hands for unwanted food and, yes, vomit. It's easier than cleaning up the floor. If only it was so simple to wash your hands of nausea and vomiting of pregnancy (NVP, y'all).

Gaaaaaahhhh. I freaking hate these things. Apparently, fear of clusters of tiny holes (trypophobia) is a real thing, and you guys, I definitely have it. But I will gladly stare at photos of deseeded strawberries for days if it will get me out of morning sickness.

My 2-year-old toddler decided that our recent cross-country trip would be a great time to have a potty training regression. I packed lots of changes of clothes for her, but I didn't plan for the "pee transfers to mom" contingency. I already feel gross on planes, and being soaked in urine did not help the situation. Still, I'd rather sit there and let it dry than be hunched over a toilet.

My partner and I are trying to teach our daughter that boogers are yucky (yes, you have to teach them that). So now, when she picks her nose, she holds our her finger for me and says, "Ewwww" until I take it away. I will gladly accept a daily oblation of dried nasal mucus in exchange for a morning sickness immunity idol.

I feel fairly confident saying this because I've had head lice as both a child and an adult. When I had it as a toddler, I also had a fever, so my mom actually saw the adult louse climbing out of my jet-black hair trying to get away from the heat. As a volunteer in a Honduran orphanage, I also contracted lice and was deloused by the caregivers in the baby house. Are you itchy yet? I am, and I'd still take literal nit-picking over talking to Ralph and Beulah on the big porcelain telephone for 14 weeks.

What's better than one incestuous, pregnant queen? Two incestuous, pregnant queens. I don't know what it says about me that it doesn't even make me queasy anymore. I wish I could say the same for that damn morning sickness.

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