Being a princess is hard, amirite, Duchess of Cambridge? I mean it's not hard-hard and you do kind of get a pass on all your baby choices because no one believes you're making them yourself anyway, but I do want to give you a big welcome hug to the Land Of Mom Criticism you've entered now that you're a mother. Lean in bro, solidarity.
I'm seeing everyone criticizing your "baby pooch" and others pointing out your incorrect car seat installation on the way home from the hospital. (Before I go any further, I say this with love, unobstructed shoulder straps, 'kay?) People are even mocking the baby's initials. "GAL! Must have wanted a girl! Hardy har" etcetera. When I say "people," I mean Arianna Huffington, and Gawker Media Group, not some mommy blogger schmos you can just dismiss as pedestrians. Ouch.
I feel for you. You've been a parent for 48 hours and the entire globe is going gorillanannerz over stuff that is completely normal for every other mom on the planet. For real, would you like to see a picture of me the day after giving birth? I wasn't no Princess Shineylocks of Rosycheek Hollow. I was a Sasquash with a pot belly, all sausage-armed and vacant-eyed. Well, the eyes were vacant when they weren't flowing with tears, but who could see them behind my crooked, fogged glasses? And baby gear safety? Hi, I put my kid in: a death crib, a death hammock, a death sling and festooned her nursery with death bumpers. Notice I have to tell you this myself because CNN did not carry the story as I was wished well by foreign dignitaries.
I still can't believe you waltzed out of the Lindo Wing 24 hours after giving birth LIKE NOTHING. Hair did, nails all posh (I noticed!) wearing your regular jewelry. In heels. Dude, my cankles and marshmallow fingers didn't shrink enough to wear my wedding rings and normal shoes for like two months. Even wrapped in three pairs of Spanx like a slutty King Tut, I still looked about twice my prom weight on the kid's birthday. How the hell I ever got normal again remains a mystery. Never wearing zippered pants again is normal, right?
Hopefully they're shielding you from all this pearl-clutching in the posh chambers at Kensington Palace. You made an heir. Your vajoo-joo is so powerful, it shot a out a royal and then you pranced out in some tasteful heels. Blow on your knuckles, sister friend and let the minions worry with stuff like what other moms think of bottle-feeding. Hint: They have lots of thoughts. Just stay out of it.
HIS NAME IS GEORGE AND HE SHALL NEVER GO BY HIS INITIALS!
Jenna Karvunidis has a Facebook page! Also, sign my petition against the EPA for allowing a harmful herbicide, known to cause the birth defects that claimed my daughter, to continue to contaminate our public water supply.
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