I thought I had hit an all-time parenting low the first time I accidentally slammed my baby's head into the unyielding wood of a doorway frame. The thwock! of his tiny, still-forming skull haunts me to this day.

Of course, that was before I dumped a pile of baby powder on him, which he instantly inhaled; or the time I managed to bang my arms on the crib rail and drop him unceremoniously to the mattress; or the day I discovered—after he drank the contents—that I'd accidentally handed him a sippy cup with mold coating the inside of the lid.

As bad as those moments were, I have to say, nothing has really topped the time I burned chemical capsicum into his soft, dewy face.

Most respected medical professionals agree with my scientific assessment of babies*, which is that they're totally freaky. According to many new studies conducted by horrified new parents, however, it's becoming clear that babies are also totally disgusting.

(*I haven't actually researched this, but I'm certain it's true. Take a closer look at what your pediatrician is scribbling in that file folder during your next well-baby appointment. You think those are detailed notes about your child's developmental milestones or feeding habits or teething discomfort or whatever, but I'm convinced they're using their Viagra ballpoint to write "INFANT APPEARS TO HAVE NORMAL LEVELS OF FREAKY.")

I know what you're thinking: how can you refer to a tiny helpless baby as disgusting? Listen, I'm not passing judgment, I'm just stating a fact over here. You can cover your loin-fruit in all the adorable outfits and blankets you want, but there's no denying that your amazing baby is also amazingly gross.

Despite having lived in Colorado for the first 18 years of my life, it seems there was one aspect of life here I willingly blocked from my mind, only to be reminded in a painful (and annoying) way now that we're back home ... mosquitoes.

Little bloodsucking demon bugs from Hell, they are. If the Devil has a winged friend, it's a mosquito. My 2-year-old now sees things flying in the house and yells, "Bad 'squito!" and tries to slap it (or her brother's head ... though I doubt she sees a bug every time she does that.)

My poor little kids are being eaten alive, and I'm having a hard time sorting through tried-and-true methods versus wastes of time, since I'm not willing to cover them in chemicals, but I've got to figure out something since the West Nile virus still is active around these parts. And no one likes to be itchy.

You have just gone through (fill in the blank) hours of labor. You see your baby for the first time and you count those fingers, count those toes, hear the Apgar score, and hold her for the first time. They swaddle her up quickly, so tight, so cuddled, and then you hold her again. Maybe it's at her first diaper change or maybe you can see it on her cheek right off. A birthmark. Big, small, dark, faint, reddish, or brown.

You know your kiddo is perfect, no matter what marks she may have. But some birthmarks can be indicators of more serious conditions. How do you know? What do you do?

Baby swimsuits can be really, really cute. There are a lot to choose from -- the ones with little ruffled butts, the adorable prints, and suits with your child's favorite character. But frankly, we should really try to avoid buying baby swimsuits that even slightly resemble adult suits.

No, I'm not talking about baby bikinis, but I'd be happy if those disappeared off the planet yesterday. I'm talking about bathing suits that expose baby skin that doesn't need to be exposed. I've got some ideas to help you choose the right swimsuit and sun-protecting accessories for your baby.

I adore tea. I love the smell, the taste, I would drink dozens of cups of it daily. I spent $50 in Chinatown in Seattle on fresh green tea leaves (which look like a jar of weed on my counter) and I don't spend that much money on much of anything! I LOVE TEA.

My daughter Aurora, however, doesn't. She has sensitive skin, but when I drink tea, and she nurses, well, she breaks out in a rash all over.

Dear Elton John,

I'm so happy you have your own little Tiny Dancer at home. I've been rooting for you ever since I found out you and hubby David Furnish were testing the adoption waters. But now that little Zachary Jackson Levon Furnish-John is here, I have to beg a favor. Can you tone it down a little?

You're making the rest of us parents look bad. I read today that you "love the smell of nappies." Elton. Honey. We get that you don't want to be that prototypical dad badly portrayed in those stock photos of a badly dressed dude with a horrified expression on his face and a clothespin on his nose changing his kid's first diaper. You're a true rocket, er, renaissance man. But nobody in their right mind enjoys the smell of human feces.

No matter what you do, or what you feed them, sometimes babies get diaper rashes. One of the more painful ones is a yeast infection rash. We've all got yeast in our bodies, but just like many things, sometimes normal processes get out of whack and create issues.

Yeast rashes suck and make big red patches with lots of spots. It spreads out into folds, looks painful (and often is), and is just bad news. Don't let it fool you either, yeast infections happen to boys as well.

If you take your baby to the doc, usually they'll tell you to go to the lady's section at the store and grab some of the same cream you'd put on your crotch if you had the dreaded YI, but there are a lot of other tried-and-true ways to help treat it at home without meds.