Dec 7, 2010

Mario Lopez: Saved by the Baby

Have you guys watched this show?  I hadn't until last night.  I haven't watched VH1 since Rock of Love stopped airing (love that hot mess) and while I wasn't exactly enticed to watch the show, it was on while I was cleaning.

The premis?  Mario Lopez a.k.a AC Slater knocked up a chick and now she's having his baby.  I wish I knew her name but I don't care to look it up.  She seemed like a bomb waiting to explode and psychotically emotional -- a great mix if you ask me.  If that's anything what I'll be like when I'm pregnant, please Lord, spare me.  I would rather adopt or be cool Aunt Kirbie then have my husband look at me like I'm a monster, similar to how Mario looks at his baby mama.  Maybe that's why they say "for better or for worse," however I guess that's not valid in this instance (because they aren't married).

Granted, she does have some raging daddy issues to attribute to her hormonal state -- apparently her father left his 37 year marriage to embark on a new relationship three years ago -- and it's taking it's toll on Mama during the pregnancy.  Not to mention she's hormonal, and Mario isn't really... how do I put this nicely... father material.  At least not yet.  (Read: this baby was definitely an accident.)

First of all, boyfriend is crazy busy, and it seems like his Mama needs more than her fair share of attention, which causes an array of issues.  Second, all Mario cares about is when he'll be able to have sex with her again because there were some problems with the baby and the doctor halted all intimate activity for awhile; but who cares about the baby's health!  Then, he gets all bent out of shape because his girlfriend asks him to go with her to a breast feeding class, to which he responds, "I can't believe you're making me go, I don't have chi chis."

Mario.  GROW UP.  They're called breasts.  Also, do you think we, as women, prefer or enjoy going to these classes?  We're slightly if not more embarrassed than you!  News flash, we're not like, 'Oh yay!  I get to learn how to pump breast milk today!" and we don't cry tears of joy when we learn how to swaddle a baby.  Not like I have experience in this department, but I imagine a breast feeding or lamaze class being somewhat terrifying and humiliating.  If we're capable of lugging a baby around for nine months, you can suck it up and be the strength and support we need to get through the (sure to be) embarrassment we'll endure when we have to, you know, give birth to the thing.  If you're man enough to get me pregnant, you can bet your bottom dollar you'll be spending quality time learning how I need to breathe when I go into labor.

By the way, I had a dream last night that I was pregnant and going into labor -- WITH TRIPLETS I didn't feel a thing.  Oh yeah, and I didn't have a C-section, I somehow managed to push all three of them out.  I'm just that amazing (at least in my dreams).  And the whole time my husband, who is still a mystery at this point, was in the other room watching a football game.  If I may, I interpet that to mean that I'm strong, that things I worry about before they happen are nothing to worry about at all, and that I can do things by myself.  Or it could mean I'm a freak of nature.  You decide.

Anyway, as if watching all of those escapades wasn't cringe-worthy enough, Mario leaves in the middle of class to go to work, thus abandoning the girlfriend, and when said girlfriend brings up the "abandonment issues" and requests that Mario "never leave her or the baby," Mario carefully responds, "I will never abandon... that child.  We are... a team."  Girlfriend, I hate to break it to you, but he's going to be kick you to the curb.  Those are not the words of a dedicated man.  He might be there for the baby, but that doesn't mean you're going to be his one and only.  You both might be a team in parenting, but not always as a couple.  #Ishouldbeatherapist

Pretty much, the show is better titled "Mario Lopez: Not saved by the baby... yet." 

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