Miley Cyrus and the Downfall of Society... OR... You are a Prude, Get Over It.

I got pregnant two weeks before my 18th birthday. Did this happen because when I was 9 years old, I saw a video about a young teenage girl getting pregnant by her hot, yet greasy, boyfriend and telling her Papa to not preach? ORRRRR, did I get pregnant because I was a foolish girl whose parents didn't pay enough attention to her and never talked to her about getting on birth control even after they KNEW she was having sex? If you blamed Madonna, then this post is for you.

When I was 10 years old, a song called "I Want Your Sex" came out on the radio. There were two types of parents back then... the parents who just let us listen to it and sang along, and the parents, like my favorite aunt, who thought it was inappropriate for 10 year olds to sing and changed the radio station. Nowadays it seems we have three types of parents... the ones who sing along, the ones who turn the radio station, and the ones who blame those songs, music videos and musicians for raising their children wrong and ruining society.

I'll just get to the point... I am completely OVER everyone complaining about Miley Fucking Cyrus. The VMAs were weeks ago, and yet people are still posting all about it on social media. "My daughters love Hannah Montana, how am I supposed to deal with this!?!?!?!" Well, first of all, you should know that Hannah Montana was a fictional character created by a massive corporation to sell your children products, and boy did they ever make their money's worth. Second of all, the person who played the character of Hannah Montana is a REAL person, who is no longer a 15 year old girl and who is trying to experiment with her life to figure out who and what she is, just like 99% of us did at that same exact age. Did I necessarily want to see Miley's flabby baloney buns gyrating against a foam finger? No, not really. I found it sad, like she was trying too hard. Then I went back and found all the pictures of me with my tongue out trying to be crazy and obviously trying WAY too hard and thought... OHHHHHHH, I guess we'll all stupid at that age.

Here it is... if you don't want your child listening to Miley Cyrus or idolizing her, then don't let them listen to it. I know this is a horrible thought, actually taking CONTROL of what is influencing your children, but trust me, it is possible to do. I understand it is SO much easier to blame others for your failings as a parent, but you are only doing a disservice to yourself and your kids. Kids do not need to get everything they want. Period. I like all kinds of music, most of which is not appropriate for my three year old. So you know what I do?? This is amazing actually... when I am in the car with him, I listen to music that is appropriate for him to listen to. When he is OUT of the car, I put on my hard core gangsta rap or death Satanist metal and regress to my 17 year old self. I don't let him watch music videos that I don't think are appropriate, I don't watch TV shows in front of him that are inappropriate and I don't take him to rated R or PG-13 movies because, again, I find them inappropriate, and also I don't want to ruin other movie watchers good time by bringing a terrified toddler to a movie that is way too scary for his Disney Junior brain. I know!! It's amazing!! How do I live my life!?!? I can't tell if parents today are just selfish assholes who themselves want to watch the VMAs so they let their 6 year olds watch, or if they are so scared of saying "NO" to their children, they'll let them stay up until 10 pm on a Sunday so they can watch it. Either way, that is your failing... not the failing of a 20 year old girl.

I'll tell you right now what is destroying our society... participation trophies and vagina shorts. Participation trophies show our children that mediocrity is something you should be rewarded for, and vagina shorts show your daughter's vaginas. Maybe I'd take the parents bitching about Miley more seriously if they weren't the same mothers listening to Britney Spears in the car while riding around with their 10 year old daughters already wearing makeup and wearing vagina shorts. Just so you know, as much as I don't want to see Miley's flabby butt cheeks, I also don't want to see your 10 year old daughter struggle to keep her vagina in her shorts. And that is all I have to say about that.

Things I learned in the past week

#1. Do not watch any Nicholas Sparks movies while pregnant, no matter HOW bad the acting is. I can now say I cried at a Miley Cyrus movie. Awesome.

#2. Frozen dairy can pretty much solve all problems.

#3. Don't let your three year old help you use the juicer. My husband actually discovered this one... idiot.

#4. Adding on to #3, if you have to go to the emergency room, go at 7:30 am on a Monday. No lines!!

#5. My new due date is 3/17/2014, pretty much guarantying that I give birth to a ginger leprechaun. Or beer!

And one thing I didn't learn... how the heck do I add photos to this damn site? I used to just click on the picture, but now it acts like it is uploading and never does. I must investigate further...

Week 7

I went to the doctor last week and we saw the heartbeat, however we couldn't see much else. My doctor thinks I'm not as far along as the charts are saying. Thanks to the fact I got pregnant as soon as I got off the pill, I have no idea what my cycle is and so I don't know when I got knocked up either. Basically I'm going to estimate myself at about 7 weeks and we'll figure it out later.

My body has begun producing its own Hawaiian Dark Tanning Oil. The good news is, I'm pretty brown. The bad news is, I look like my chest has started taking meth because it is totally broken out and it is oily and DISGUSTING. Also, when it gets above 85 degrees, my ankles put on a protective coating of water giving me that ever sexy, very desirable CANKLE. It turns out, when I'm pregnant, I morph into Mama June (you know, honey boo boo's mama). I'm just waiting for my toes to start attacting flies (high five to you if you get that reference). My husband is one lucky sonofabizzzz.

I dont have much else to update as things are pretty normal around these parts. My admin did bring me a tub of ice cream in case of emergencies at work. She figured out pretty quickly that only frozen dairy products can soothe the firey pregnancy rage that pops up every once in a while.

PS. I have NO idea how to work this new HTML blog crap, so just pretend there is a photo of me eating ice cream right here <---

Surprise! Week 5

Once upon a time, in a kingdom far, far away… in the land of Delusion, there was a beautiful young princess. She met her prince, fell in love and got married. Soon after, she was blessed with her perfect pregnancy. Her cravings included organic tomatoes and fresh green salads and coffee enemas. She never got swollen fingers, or had problems putting her shoes on because her feet had doubled in size and they now looked like Fred Flinstone’s. She cried once watching a commercial because she just felt SOOOO emotional, and she even swore at her husband twice. She was doing half marathons into her 8th month because it just felt SO good to run. She gave birth and was back in her size 2’s before she left the hospital. Her baby was perfect and when he pooped, it smelled like fresh strawberries on a warm summer’s day.

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh…. such a beautiful story. So full of beauty and wisdom and, what’s the word I’m looking for… bullshit. Yes, bullshit is the word.

Now if you are one of those ladies who have been blessed with an easy pregnancy, God bless you. You are very lucky and most women are probably jealous. Do you need to reiterate to the world how wonderful and supportive your husband is, and how your baby started sleeping through the night at 4 days old? NO!!! And do you know WHY you need to stop doing this? You need to stop doing this because you suck people like ME into getting pregnant again because somehow you make me forget that pregnancy for ME sucks.

Pregnancy for me is this… boobs so sore I want to punch my 3 year old the face when he hugs me too hard, fits of rage because I am remembering an argument I had three weeks ago that I lost, and now I am coming up with all sorts of new ammo, but I can’t go back and re-start the argument because people will think I am f’ing nuts, dizzy spells that would be awesome if I was in high school and doing hits of nitrous oxide, but not so great when I’m trying to draft board resolutions.

Pregnancy for me is falling asleep while people are talking to me… at work. I actually fell asleep while drafting an email. Turns out I can type while I nap. There weren’t any actual WORDS, but the fingers kept moving. I am like a chicken when someone chops off the head apparently.

Pregnancy for me is wanting to yell at someone because her highlights are better than mine and because she complains about her “messy” hair even though people spend all kinds of money for her exact “messy” hair. F U.

Pregnancy for me is eating mashed potatoes for lunch, with a side of vanilla ice cream. When I’m two days pregnant.

So if you couldn’t tell from this post, I am pregnant. I haven’t told my family yet (with the exception of my husband) because I haven’t even had my first doctor’s appointment and this is all still very new and terrifying. I’m posting it here because in all honesty, there are exactly three people who read this blog and they probably know (sup Kari) and I’m hoping it will help me express my rage so I don’t kick my co-workers. My first appointment is on July 25th and we will find out then if everything is okay.

Until next time… unless I’m in prison for finding the person who tricked me into thinking pregnancy was beautiful and amazing and I tie her up like a prisoner at Guantanamo Bay and shove pizza and cupcakes in her face until her ass looks like Rosie O’Donnell’s… or worse, MINE.