Went from an already hefty 36DD to somewhere between a 38G/H with very little gapping between (and apparently we need the inside underwire to go up to our f*cking chin...). The mere thought of bra shopping makes me want to cry in frustration- and I definitely have had to hold back tears after being turned away from…

The signature Trump neck waddle and dead eyed stare is enough of a paternity test for me.

So I went to my 6 week follow up- was told everything was fine- then didn’t see a doctor for almost 3 years. I had (and still have) been dealing with incontinence, mild pain on one side of my lower abdomen, pain in my clitoris that feels like tearing when I get aroused (yeah, THATS been a fun one), clogged-duct like…

I had a mild stroke from trying to contain all the rage screaming at work when I read about this next level fuckery.

Sounds like you handled it a hell of a lot better than I did.

I ended up being so shaken by the incident that I full on broke down bawling in the middle of the isleway of the plane.*

*The security theater took so long, they ended up giving my seat away... but still let me on the plane just to tell me that they actually…

I once had a pat down so aggressive that they separated my labia through my pants- wiggling their hand up in there and everything- as well as manhandling my breasts more forcefully than my partner when they get a bit drunk and overly enthusiastic. I heard similar stories from friends when I broke down while telling…

We were given the same spiel but between the postpartum anxiety, my partner who pours far too much of his life into work (His company asked him to come back to work on his FIRST week of leave- which he could have refused, but didn’t- forcing me to take more time off right when I went back to work... just as an example)…

Because I’m going to need someone to wipe MY ass when I get old.

Wouldn’t be surprised if he had scabies. I’m itching just looking at him.

I feel like I’m looking at a bunch of people who drunkenly wandered into a thrift store and just started throwing shit on.

Noel wears everything better. 

Dude- right? I feel for the shit that’ll be thrown at them for this.

My in-laws still give me flack for not wanting them IN THE ROOM when giving birth. It’s been 4 years... considering how many times my FiL “accidentally” walked in on me breastfeeding, I’m guessing the baby wasn’t the only thing he was trying to…

If my partner is out of town, or dumplin’ has a nightmare then I’ll give in a bit- but I’ll usually go cuddle in their bed and sneak out once they’re asleep. A little over 2 years of >4 hours of sleep a night was enough for me. My brain is so badly janked up that I have a hard time holding a normal conversation…

My first lady crush <3

I don’t know how in the world she could do it. We co-slept for 2 years (sleep training is a bitch when the apartment walls are paper thin) and holy gods- the first night we got babydumplin’ to sleep in their own bed was the best fucking sleep of my life. Every now and then it’ll try to crawl back in and it’s just like…

When I grow my hair out it ends up looking really similar to the princess in Edmund Leighton’s The Accolade, color and all. People (usually women) will constantly ask to touch it and I find it so fucking bizarre. I’ve been keeping it short the last few years because of it.

I have never had anyone touch without asking…

I recently decided to switch shit up and started working for a place that is attempting to cater to influencers to help build our various brands. I’m supposed to design for these people and no matter how many conversations I have, I still fundamentally do not understand, nor care for that market.

How do you expect us to perform with all that cancer causing windmill noise?!?

I posted on another comment regarding this-but I know a person that worked at one of these nationwide chains. I would never have expected them to snap at or get physical with a child, but they did. We’re pulling ours out of one of these painfully expensive centers as well (issues with another student smacking ours aro…

Hey, it’s hard to human sometimes.