Who’s in Your Hive?

Posted: July 15, 2016 in Uncategorized

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There’s this town I live in. Tisdale, Saskatchewan, Canada.  Find it on a map. Mark it with a big x, or a heart, or a red pushpin, whatever.  Someday, I want you to bring your daughters here and tell them, “Honey, this is where the strong women are.”

I own a business on Main Street of this town.  Our population is about 3000 people… Pretty small! Northeast Saskatchewan small town for ya, yep.  But there is something spectacular going on here. It’s been a secret for far too long. This town, known for its canola crops, honey production, and huge Bee statue is also home to a hive full of killer Queen Bees.

This town has an unprecedented network of strong, hardworking women busting ass everyday. On Main Street alone, there are at least 14 businesses that are OWNED and operated by women. Not to mention the many females employed at these and other business. These are women who also have families and small children, who not only have sports and activities and school events to participate in but also volunteer their time to community events and programs.  These women are warriors.  But why do they do it? For their families, for their businesses, for their communities, for themselves. They do it for the money! Go get those dollar bills, ladies! They do it for the feeling of personal accomplishment! They do it for inner fulfillment and a creative outlet!  They do it because they can!

The natural question to ask is, How Do They Do It? Well, they do it with a smile, with God-given perseverance and often, with other responsibilities and obligations tugging at them from all angles.  They get up everyday and work hard.  If they’re sick, they work. If they’re tired, they work. If they’re sad, mad, or discouraged, they still work.  They wake up and get their families ready for the day, and then they take on their own day full of challenges, setbacks, annoyances and frustrations, sprinkled with just enough small triumphs and laughs to keep them coming back the next day. But here’s the real secret to the success of these incredible women…

The Hive.

This hive is absolutely BUZZING with Queen Bees focused on production and armed with beautiful stripes and sharp stingers.  It’s a community of its own; a complicated, interconnected support system of women of all ages and skill sets, motivated and driven by an inner strength that a lot of people don’t understand. But these women get it. They get each other. They support newly opened businesses. They advertise for each other and collaborate together.  They buy from each other and sell to each other. They encourage each other through hard times and celebrate with each other when business is good. They share ideas and suggestions. It’s a beautiful thing.

So I had this idea. We need to celebrate the working woman. The inner strength of women who do for others, day after day after day. Women who know what it takes, and do whatever it takes, to be successful. I rallied the Hive.

I asked these women to do something brave and daring.  I asked them to pose for a series of Pinup style photoshoots with the theme “The Evolution of The Female Boss”.  Pinup!! Whoa you should have heard the hive buzzing!!  The idea behind this concept is to highlight the strength of women in the business community and to celebrate the inner beauty of the strong women who make the wheels of this community turn. Without faltering, most of them readily and instantly accepted the challenge. These Bees are making a pinup calendar, and have generously agreed to donate all calendar sales to our local women’s shelter, the NEOSS House of Hope in Melfort, SK.

I couldn’t be more proud of my hive.

Stay tuned! You can bet I will be sharing some honey!






Ahhh, summer. What comes to mind when you hear those words? Hot lazy beach days? Ice cold beers? Melting ice cream and happy, care free children? Me too!

And also, skin. Tons of skin. Shorts, tank tops, bathing suits. All the things I fear, because I am a woman who happens to have insecurities about my body. Isn’t that crazy? The idea that in spite of all of those wonderful things to look forward to about summertime, one of the foremost thoughts on my mind is how I’m going to look in my shorts?

I know this isn’t a new revelation. There have been many blogs and articles written, tears shed and conversations over wine about woman’s  love/hate relationship with summertime and body image.  Women have been hating and hiding their bodies for a long time. I feel like there is a major push/pull relationship between the Body Acceptance movement and the Health and Fitness platform. Like really, what is the message we should be getting? Should we be happy with our bodies the way they are, or should we be working our asses off to make it better, whatever that means?  I feel it everyday in my own life. I wake up in the morning and instantly start thinking about my weight. I set my alarm early with the hope that I’ll wake up ready and willing to fit in some kind of “work out” and then hit snooze because frankly I’d rather sleep. I finally get up and begin my day already with the seed of defeat planted in my mind because I’ve already lost the first battle.  As I shower, I glance at my belly and think about how it would be smaller if I could actually get out of bed to exercise in the morning.  I make a cup of coffee and head upstairs to get dressed. Will I find something to wear today that fits and looks half decent?  Some days the thoughts are more derogatory than others, but recently after a bit of a weight gain, the thoughts have been decidedly more negative.  Not much in my closet still fits like it used to.  The tight fit of my clothes remind me what a failure I’ve been at trying to eat healthier and get in shape.  So generally I wake up everyday and start preparing for the day by telling myself how crappy I look and what a failure I am because of it. Doesn’t that sound fun?

Soooooo, in the interest of trying to make a change in my life, I decided to try and look at this problem from another angle.  I do like to exercise and I know I feel better when I do it, but I also sometimes would rather sit on the couch and watch the Jays game and drink a beer. So there has to be some kind of happy medium in between the relentless tug of war between accepting my body and trying to make it better. I know I can’t lose my spare tire overnight. But you know what I can lose? My shitty attitude.

I made a decision. Last year, I dreaded hot summer days and prayed for rain. I suffered through an entire summer with only one ugly pair of shorts that fit because I refused to go and buy a bigger pair. I wasn’t going to give in! I was going to lose that weight and get back into my fashionable clothes and they will fit me like they should! If I buy bigger shorts, where’s the motivation to lose the weight? Well guess what? One year later, I didn’t buy bigger shorts AND I didn’t lose the weight. The only thing I accomplished with that genius game plan was a definite feeling of failure and a closet full of dusty, out of style clothes. I decided that this year would be different. I went shopping.

I bought clothes that fit. They fit my bigger body. I bought a bigger size of shorts. I expected to feel like a failure again. I expected defeat, self disgust. Sadness.

You know what I actually felt?

Comfortable. My shorts fit. I looked fine. My waistband didn’t dig into my skin. My shorts didn’t crawl up my arse. They fit, and they felt good.  The next time I went to get dressed in the morning I knew I would have something to wear that looked good, and kept my skin cool on a hot day. Whether I was taking a walk to the park with my kids on a hot day, or sitting on the couch with a beer cheering on the Jays, I was comfortable. In my shorts. In my skin. I went to the lake and walked around in short shorts and nobody stared at me and pointed and laughed. You know why? Because nobody cares! They care about their melting ice cream, their cold beers, and their happy, carefree children. They actually don’t care about my thighs!

I haven’t gotten rid of my old clothes. I’m human, I still have hope! I might keep hitting that snooze button, I might get my act together. Who knows! But in the meantime, I’m going to welcome the sunshine this summer. I will enjoy the ice cream, and the pool with my kids, and the warm summer breeze on my legs and bare arms. And the ice-cold beer. Bring on the beer!

Taking Care of Business

Posted: June 25, 2016 in Uncategorized

Hi, it’s me. It’s been 3 years since my last confession. I used to blog. I used to stay at home with my kids and make some cakes for money on the side. I used to have time to work out a…

Source: Taking Care of Business

Taking Care of Business

Posted: June 25, 2016 in Uncategorized


Hi, it’s me.

It’s been 3 years since my last confession.

I used to blog. I used to stay at home with my kids and make some cakes for money on the side. I used to have time to work out all morning and bake all afternoon, and do my hair, and worry about dumb shit, and blog. I used to have time.

In 3 years, I’ve been getting a lot of bang for my buck. I’ve been doing things. I’ve been raising 3 kids. I got married in Mexico.  I started a business – an exhausting, frustration filled new exciting business that I love.  I’ve gained and lost and gained weight. I’ve developed a heart condition.  I’ve been doing things.  My world keeps turning. But I haven’t been blogging!

I put off doing things because I don’t have time.  I’m an adult. I have RESPONSIBILITIES. I have kids and kids activities, I have bills, I have a business to build and employees to pay. I have a marriage to maintain. I have friendships and family relationships to nurture. I have laundry to fold.  The list goes on. What I don’t have is time. Or sanity.So I’m trying to gain back some sanity. I’ve avoided blogging because I didn’t have time. I’ve put off doing things with my kids because I didn’t have time. I’ve skipped mannnnnyyyy workouts because I didn’t have time. I traded in reading in the evenings for falling asleep on the couch in front of the t.v. I ignored a lot of glaringly obvious health warning symptoms because I couldn’t find time to go in for a checkup.  I gave up many things that are important to me because I thought I didn’t have time. I was living my life in crisis mode, putting out fires based on a priority system of which ones were biggest and hottest at the time.  And then I ended up in the back of an ambulance with a racing, irregular heartbeat and got a little bit of a wakeup call.

I’m 36 years old. I spent the night in a city hospital in the cardiac ward with a bunch of 80 year olds.  The nurse admitting me was asking me perfunctory admission questions like, “Do you have stairs in your home? Do you regularly need help getting to the washroom?”.  We had a good laugh when she pulled off my heart monitor stickers and it also removed my spray tan. Not something she sees everyday up there in Cardio I guess? 🙂

So my little road trip got me thinking. I was lying in my hospital bed, thinking about what a relaxing vacation I was having and feeling really guilt about it. I had so many things I should be doing! Who was going to do them while I was leisurely lying there reading the newspaper? Where would my kids go after school? Who would call the supply order in at work?  Who was going to do the bank deposits and pay the power bill on time?

And then I realized, somebody else would have to do it. Just like somebody else would have to do it if my heart took the day off too. My 87 year old Grandpa called me after I got home from the hospital to check up on me.  He offered me some advice. He said, “I know you have a lot of goals and things you want to do. Maybe you just need to take an extra year to do them.” OK. Good advice. Might need to adjust the 5 year plan. So here I am. I blog because relating to people makes my heart happy.  I want to share what I’m learning from my hard lesson, and my Grandpa’s advice. Take the time. Enjoy your life! Deal with things! I’m no wise-sage genius but I’ve done some living and I’ve made a lot of mistakes. I’m willing to pass this wisdom on for free!

I  drove my vehicle for 2 years without air conditioning because I thought I didn’t have the time to get it fixed. Yesterday, I got it fixed. It took 20 minutes and cost $40. Imagine the suffering I could have avoided if I had just taken the time 2 years ago to take care of business. So that’s what I’m doing now. And if you’d like to come along for the ride, by all means, keep reading!


It’s OK Val, we all fall into a rut sometimes. Even though you were once a hot, chiseled, latex-wearing tight little package of twisted steel and sex appeal, try not to let this current sad state of affairs get you down. You’ve gotten a little chubby! That’s OK! Just put down the sandwich and get right back on that hamster wheel. Am I right?

Well unfortunately, Val and I both know it ain’t always that easy. I remember what it was like to feel like a hot and sexy superhero too. It was awesome!!! Kickin some ass and takin’ names. 45 minute Insanity workout everyday, showered, dressed and ready to take on the world by 9 am? I think SO! I worked hard, I felt great, I looked good! I laughed in the face of Danger!!! I pinned a plethora of healthy meal ideas and fitness motivation pictures to my Pinterest Board. I was unstoppable!

So what went wrong, you ask?

Queue Swimsuit Season please.


Now to be clear, I was feeling pretty darn good right around March/April. I’m always in the best shape of the year at the most pointless and inopportune time of the year. Exactly when everyone is wearing parkas and sweaters and hiding on their couches under a Snuggie, that’s when I look best in my bathing suit. Its like a law of nature. Why? Because January to April happens to be my “slow” season for cakes, and I have the time to make working out and eating healthier into a part-time job. Which, let’s be honest, it really needs to be in order to look even remotely close to one of those ‘motivational’ fitness models. The trouble with those girls, however, is that they start out looking MOTIVATIONAL but after a month or two of working out and trying to eat “clean”, the only thing all those motivational fitness pics on Pinterest motivate you to do is give your computer the finger, type “quick and easy desserts” into the search bar and forget you ever saw them.

So ANYWAY, as I was saying, I was rockin’ my bikini in April. Well I live in SASKATCHEWAN and we get approximately 2 DAYS of hot beach weather per year and they generally don’t arrive until late July. That’s a tough row to hoe, my friend. That’s basically a 3 month all-you-can-eat BOOOFAY of hotdogs, macaroni salad, ice cream and beer to barge through before arriving at DESTINATION:SMOKE SHOW in July. And if you’re willpower-challenged like me, it’s pretty much a lost cause. You see, friends, I fell into a rut.

My Rut started where most ruts do, in the kitchen, but not for the reason you think. I found myself at the end of my 2 month Insanity program at approximately the same time my busy season started gearing up. This was the perfect storm, a combination of excuses ranging from “I’m too busy” to “I’m too tired” to my personal favorite, “I can afford to take a little break and reset my metabolism.” Before you know it, my running shoes have collected a layer of dust, I’m covered in frosting, and I’m shoveling cupcakes down the hatch with reckless abandon in the interest of “quality control”.

So much for my swimsuit dreams. I take my cake breaks on the couch, drinking beer and eating sandwiches, trying not to make eye contact with the poster of Jillian Michaels taped to my treadmill. I begin wearing my yoga pants a lot. I start to try and rationalize the situation, attempting to spread a little silver lining around this unfortunate cloud of despair. Maybe all this cake will go straight to my boobs!
Or not. My tank tops are tighter, but in all the wrong areas. I begin to lose hope. Every day that passes is another day closer to “Someday, when I feel like working out again,” and that day never comes. Welcome to my Rut. Its deep and dark and smells like fried chicken.

Yesterday, I threw caution to the wind. I caught a glimpse of my ass in the window of the ice-cream shop (where they know me by name) and went straight home to lace up the runners. Today, I groaned and creaked to life as my super stiff body tried to roll out of bed. And so, I’m back on the hamster wheel. Come on, Val! There’s room for two!



Well, another Mother’s Day has come and gone. In case you lost count, it’s now Tuesday which marks 2 full days since Mother’s Day and it also happens to mark 2 full days since I’ve been waiting to have a waking moment of peace to myself in order to write a blog about Mother’s Day. Because that’s what happens when you’re a mother. You wait. You wait for silence. You wait for peaceful quiet bliss. You wait for the moment when the hellions stop trying to kill each other and drift into dreamland and hope to God you can stay awake long enough to squeeze a minute or two of enjoyment out of it before you pass out from exhaustion on the couch. Ahhhh…. the joys of motherhood.

Now, don’t get me wrong. Love my kids!!!! Don’t go jumping on the judgy bandwagon and thinking that a little complaining here and there means I don’t appreciate the beautiful gift of children. Because I totally, completely do. But if I’m being perfectly honest, I like to feel sorry for myself every once in a while. It’s totally cathartic. I recommend it. Wallow in self pity for a bit! You’ll feel great! You’ll feel validated! You’ll feel like your 4 year old gets to feel when he has an uninterrupted and ignored temper tantrum when you say “No” to a treat at the grocery store. Un-acknowledged, maybe, but totally satisfied and ready to take on the rest of the day. Why should our kids be the only ones who get to be selfish brats sometimes? I wanna be a brat, too!

And so, for Mother’s Day this year, I decided to be a little bit selfish. It started on Saturday when I went shopping for my own mother’s gift. This got me thinking. Mothers always say they don’t want anything for Mother’s Day, my mom included. This is not true. Not even a little bit. There had better be a gift, or some flowers, or some toast and coffee in bed, or at least a damn card waiting because let’s be honest: it is literally the LEAST you could do. Really. What mother doesn’t appreciate a little bit of thought put into her happiness, at least one day of the year? And if you give your mother or your wife or your baby momma the excuse that you “Didn’t have time to get anywhere, and you’ll make it up to her,” you’re a special kind of douchebag. Mother’s Day is marked on the calendar. It’s not a big surprise. You have warning that it’s coming, same time every year. Get something.

So I’m shopping for my mom and we happen to have similar tastes in a lot of things, so a lot of the gifts I am considering for her are REALLLY appealing to me…for myself. Does this ever happen to you? And suddenly a genius thought strikes me. I’m going to buy myself my own damn Mother’s Day present. After years of boring gifts, thoughtless gifts, no gifts, gifts chosen by sister-in-laws, last minute gifts, gifts from the checkout aisle at the grocery store, I decide that I’ve paid my dues and I am determined to have a mother’s day gift that I really enjoy. And who better to choose it than me? Who appreciates my mothering skills and virtues more than I do? Who has a better understanding of the day in day out sacrifices a mother makes, including her own personal sanity? Nobody. I wander around the store, looking at all the things I would love to have, wondering to myself just exactly how I might measure up on the Good Mom scale. I take a mental inventory of all the crappy-mom things I have done, and compare them to a list of all the pretty great-mom things in my repertoire. I finish my shopping and head to the checkout. This year, I’m not going to wait and wonder if I will be disappointed by my family’s ‘efforts’. I am not going to base my value as a mother on the thought that anyone else may or may not have put into a gift or sentiment for me. This year, on Mother’s Day, my gift to myself is a good book, a cute little purse, and my own realization that I am a really good mother.

On Sunday morning, the Big Day, I awake to a quiet house. The older ones are at their dad’s and the little one is awake and downstairs with my BF. Nobody is bothering me. For a moment I consider that I should probably get up and go downstairs, but I decide against it and lay in bed and browse Facebook instead. Lots of ‘Happy Mother’s Day’ messages. A strange phenomena is brought to my attention….all of the messages are from Mothers. A sneaking suspicion that has been gnawing at me lately is validated: The only people who truly care about Mother’s Day are mothers themselves.

Let me make myself clear. I know that all of you sons and husbands and fathers and even some daughters out there may really truly appreciate the women in your lives who happen to be mothers. You may even lavish these moms with special gifts, suppers, flowers, etc on Mother’s Day, putting a lot of thought into what might make this special woman happy. Of this is the case, good for you! You’re not a douchebag, carry on. All I’m saying is that nobody can really truly appreciate a mother like another mother can. You never truly realize what kind of sacrifices and bullshit your mother had to put up with because of you, until you become a mother yourself. And you can’t even fathom a mother’s love until you are the one giving it, unconditional and unrelenting, day in and day out for the rest of your days on earth. And this is why Mother’s Day is so important. As a mother, the best gift you can give yourself on Mother’s Day and any other day is the permission to fail, the strength to continue, and the acknowledgment that you’re doing a good job, and nobody knows that more than another mother does.

When my 8 year old daughter got home, she proudly presented me with a pile of artwork she had been working on all weekend. She had made me a Mothers Day card, of course. A big picture of my face, with a poem,
“You are specile, You are Bright, you are the best mom in the light.”
She began describing the picture in detail. “See, mom, I gave you black hair, and the little earrings you always wear. And your pink lips and the blush on your cheeks, because I know you like to put blush on your cheeks.” And then she stops, looks at the picture, looks at me, and says, “Awwww Man!” I say, “What?” She says, “I totally forgot to put those big black circles under your eyes!”.

Happy Mother’s Day to me.

You know what I’m sick of? 2 things.
1. Winter.
2. Seeing Kim Kardashian’s pregnant behind plastered all over the internet, t.v., and magazine racks at the 7-11 when I’m trying to buy my Family Sized chocolate bars.

In both cases, I think I can speak for the entire North American population when I say, “Enough Already!”

I want to be clear about my position on the Kardashians. Love ’em or hate ’em, the Kardashians are in your face all over the place. Famous for being famous, I guess, which is why they have such a dedicated posse of haters. And there are a lot of haters out there!!! I am not one of them. I happen to think that if you have found a way to be famous for no reason at all, you’re a freakin’ genius. Good for you! You’ve turned the public’s disgusting appetite for celebrity and all things superficial into a bankable career, and for that you should be commended. Reality shows, Clothing lines, high profile romances….. ahhhh the life. And as for the Kardashian women, for the most part I can actually look past the superficial bullshit and find admiration in the way these girls use their assets and social strengths to create public personas for themselves, all while steeling themselves to the harsh and criticizing world of our shallow and misguided society.

Case in point, Kim Kardashian. I happen to think that Kim is one of the most physically beautiful women on the planet. Not only does she have dark stunning features and a striking set of eyes, she has a bountiful body full of curves and one hell of a booty. A girl after my own heart. But probably the most attractive thing about Kim is her CONFIDENCE. This girl has a bum so big that I believe she had her ass x-rayed to prove that she doesn’t have butt implants. A lot of girls in her shoes would be draping themselves in pretty sarongs on the beach…not Kim. Kim rocks a tiny bikini every time. By industry standards, she’s got wide hips, big boobs, and a big ass.
EXCLUSIVE: Kim and Kourtney Kardashian take over Miami Beach with new beach bods
By my standards, and most women and men out there, she’s a goddess. And Ironically, her baby-daddy previously penned a song with the lyrics, “She’s got an ass that will Swallow up a G-String.” Yes, Confidence is sexy, and Kim has confidence. We’ve all seen that ‘uneven’ couple somewhere and thought, “How did HE get HER?” or vice versa. The answer to that riddle, of course, is Confidence. Mother Nature’s greatest equalizer. Not born with stunning good looks? Snaggletooth and hammertoes? One leg shorter than the other? No problem! All you need is a little of this here magic potion we call Confidence to level the playing field. It’s the single most important quality I believe a person can have, and I pray that my kids have tons of it. There are not many things that can shake a very confident woman….but pregnancy happens to be one of them.

Kim loves to be on the cover of magazines, and all over the media. It’s her career. But I’m pretty sure, when she got pregnant, this was not the type of publicity she was hoping for.

If you’ve ever been pregnant, you know that even the happiest, most excited, ecstatic mother-to-be goes through some serious body image issues at some point. Things all over your body are changing. Drastically. And while it’s true that not all women are as shallow and body-image obsessed as me, I do believe that most pregnant women struggle with getting bigger in some way. And most pregnant women would not want to be in line at the grocery store with a 2 litre pail of ice cream and see their own pregnant ass staring back at them from the newsstand.

With a caption that reads, “I can’t stop Eating!!”.

OK Holy Hell Society, I don’t know exactly who “you” are, but I’m pretty sure “you” are actually “we” and WE need to wake the hell up and leave pregnant women alone. The pressure that is being put on women in today’s world to be thin and beautiful all the time is totally out of control! I know I rant about it all the time, but it’s really getting to me. I think we can safely assume we are failing as a whole when we start picking on pregnant women about their weight, and EVEN MORE Ridiculous, their fashion choices. Like, Really? This is on the top of the list of most talked about public gossip….Kim Kardashian’s latest maternity fashion DON’T. OH.MY.GOD.

Check out this little nugget from www.redcarpet.net :

“Kim Kardashian slammed for bad maternity style” As much as Kim Kardashian tries so hard to look good during her pregnancy, the socialite just can’t pull it off in her tacky maternity wear. In fact, the Keeping Up with the Kardashians star has been lambasted for her bad taste in maternity fashion – which usually comprise either baggy clothing or tight, skimpy outfits. A case in point: she was recently caught by fashion police wearing a billowing pink dress to church in Los Angeles. The reality TV star, who is six months pregnant, looked larger than life – especially around her ballooning hips.But Kim appears unperturbed by the criticism, tweeting photos of her bare pregnant belly for the world to see.

GASP!!! How dare she wear a billowing Pink Dress! How Dare She have ballooning hips!!! Nevermind that there’s a human being growing in between them, she should at least make an effort and slap some SPANKS on those bad boys and try to tame that tummy! Can’t she find anything more attractive? Well, it seems Kim just can’t win for losing. Now all of her fashion choices are being criticized and picked apart, and more often than not, featured in full-on “Mean Girl” style ‘Who Wore It Better’ articles. She gets compared to her previously pregnant sister:


Other celebrities who are NOT PREGNANT and probably starving themselves:

And in the most offensive and disturbing display of bullying I’ve seen in a while, she is being compared to Marine Life:

Now, can you imagine what life is like? This woman is in love, expecting her very first baby, and full to the brim with explosive pregnancy hormones. And every damn time she leaves the house, she knows somebody is going to have a problem with what she is wearing, and there’s probably going to be somebody taking a picture of her big pregnant ass at the absolute most unflattering time and angle possible. Did you ever catch a glimpse of your own pregnant ass by accident before? I have, and I’m pretty sure all the hairs stood up on the back of my neck I was so horrified. Pregnancy may be beautiful, but most of the time, it’s not pretty. And to expect it to be pretty, 100% of the time from someone, is not fair.

Can we leave the pregnant ladies alone? I remember being pregnant with my second. I was huge. My brother hadn’t seen me throughout my entire pregnancy until he came home at Christmas, when I was 9 months pregnant. I’ll never forget his face when he walked in the door and saw me. It was a look of shock and awe, which he tried to hide with arched eyebrows and a nervous chuckle. That was the same Christmas I considered punching my grandpa’s lights out if he made one more comment about how many sandwiches I was eating. And my step-dad, God Love Him, posted a pic of me on Facebook hunched over the buffet table shoving a big bite of something into my mouth. Thanks, Dad! Pregnant women just want to be left alone. We know we are big, thank you very much. I don’t even need to go into the whole spiel about how our bodies are growing precious little lives inside because, well, Eff you, that’s why! Nobody should have to explain or validate their appearance to anyone, let alone a pregnant woman. So back off, K? Can’t we get back to gossiping about the Bachelor’s resident nut-job and buying magazines revealing Hollywood’s worst Plastic Surgery Fails?

Instead, let’s make fun of the ridiculous photographic choices women make ON PURPOSE when they are pregnant! HEEEEHEHEHEHEHE FUN! Ok, so I have to cop to actually taking cheesy maternity photos myself, finally got around to it with #3 and, like everyone else who does it, really wanted to document and remember what my body looked like with that precious little life inside. But OOOOOHHHHH hahahaha I did not go this far. Check it out:


Jackie Chan says, “WTF?!?!”



Britney Spears says, “WTF?!?!”



Kim Kardashian says, “WTF!!!!?!?!”
kim kardashian 2 300410

hahahaha Come on, Kim, Strap on some of those Yellow Suspenders and let’s see “Who Wore It Better!!!”.


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