MILF Report

What’s in a name?

Tue, 5 Aug 2008 11:51:03 -0700

by Daniela Syrovy
Alright I’ll just come out with it. I named my daughter Suri. I know what you’re thinking. I must be totally in love with TomKat. I have posters of Tom Cruise from his Cocktail days in my basement. I think Katie Holmes is the cat’s ass. I’m totally obsessed with celebrity culture. I’m a celebrity hound, a star f*@*er. My dogs name is Paris, my cats name Hilton. I secretly call my man’s nether region the Pitt. I read Perez twenty times a day. I’m addicted to cheesy entertainment shows. I wish Mary Hart was my aunt.

All the Rage

Tue, 15 Jul 2008 11:49:19 -0700

by Daniela Syrovy
A newborn is the latest fashion accessory. Gone are the days of being hot and single. The reign of the hot mom has arrived. A woman with babe in stow can get anything she wants. I'm convinced of it. Just the other day as I was cruising the streets with my stroller I witnessed a fellow milf--twenty something, hot and stylish. She had on vintage over sized black studded sunglasses, tight jeans and a funky punk shirt with some great ballet flats. As I'm eyeing her from the bottom up I notice the best part of her outfit—her baby!

Boobies R’Us

Fri, 20 Jun 2008 15:28:32 -0700

by Daniela Syrovy
Forget silicone. If you’ve ever dreamed of huge, porn star breasts that will turn heads I’ve figured out the surefire way to accomplish it…breastfeeding!

That’s right ladies. You don’t even have to give birth - every woman is capable of making breast milk – even those who adopt.

And voila! In the span of a week your boobs go from their regular size up three or four sizes.

Your nipples turn into gigantic cartoon pacifiers and no matter how you try to contain your puppies, your cleavage spills out of every shirt and into the eyeballs of every passerby.

The Big Bad Birth

Tue, 27 May 2008 11:20:47 -0700

by Daniela Syrovy
I have to confess that I’m a bit of a dirty hippie and the day I found out I was pregnant I set my sights on a natural home birth. The idea of going to a hospital to bring a life into this world just grosses me out. Hospitals are for the sick and the dying, not for the pregnant and the newly born. As bull headed as I am, 7 hours into labour I was seriously considering giving up and giving in—thoughts of the dreamy, numbing epidural floating through my head. Here’s how it went down.

10 things I learned in 9 months

Tue, 13 May 2008 14:55:57 -0700

by Daniela Syrovy
I’m one day away from my due date and looking back on my pregnancy these are the things I learned.

1. Sometimes you just don’t know.
I’m at the bank running an errand. When I first walk in I feel like it’s a bit warm inside. I take off a layer of clothing. As I wait for the five people ahead of me to get their banking done my temperature rises just a little bit and I’m thinking they’ve really cranked the heat at the bank.

The next thing I know I’m laying on the bank floor passed out and when I come to the ambulance is already there and EMS workers are asking: are you diabetic? (no), have you eaten today? (yes), do you have any idea why you fainted? (no), do you have a heart condition? (not that I know of). I’m rushed to the hospital on the thought that I have some serious heart condition. My blood pressure is low, my heart is barely beating and I’m under 30 years old. Hours later in the emergency room the doctor comes gliding into my room and says, “Congratulations” and shimmies out.
Congratulations! Congratulations what? Congratulations I’m alive? Congratulations my heart is still pumping?
20 minutes later he returns and after I accost him he says, “Oh you didn’t know?! You’re pregnant! Congratulations.”