I sure as hell don't want to be a children's librarian. The opportunity to do arty-crafty stuff in work time just isn't enough to make up for having to constantly put up with high-pitched noises and humungous amounts of mess.
Come to think of it, I wonder whether prospective parents ever think about just how much picking up they're going to be doing? I get annoyed just picking up after my guy, and that's not including discarded underpants.
There must be some hormone injection which people get, so all they can think of is tiny wee clothes and tiny wee frisbees and tiny wee versions of themselves.