How three liberals – one heterosexual woman and two homosexual pigs – created a disaster for a child.

One fine day, Kristine, a woman full of typical liberal beliefs, decided to concoct a baby with two of her male homosexual friends, like if they all wanted to shop for a puppy.

Excerpt from her blog:

At 38 years old, I’ve been lucky in my life. I run Red’s, a successful lobster restaurant on the Jersey Shore, with my family and spend winters surfing and teaching yoga in Costa Rica, where I have a great group of friends. By the time I was 33, I’d pretty much done everything on my to-do list — traveled, carved out a career, bought two homes, and had a lot of fun. I’d also married a controlling and demeaning man. After eight years, it became unbearable, and when I kicked him out of my house and filed for divorce four years ago, I felt empowered and free. But I wanted a family. I knew I had too much love in my heart not to have a baby, and I believed it was important that the child have a great dad. About a year after my marriage ended, I was dating a prince of a guy who wasn’t ready for a family — and the pressure he felt from me to have a baby ultimately broke us up. It was around then that I started joking with my best friend, Darren, about what great parents we’d make together.
I met Darren Greenblatt 20 years ago as a freshman in college, and it was love at first sight. We had identical, self-deprecating senses of humor and a mutual love of mischief. We scammed our way onto the lists of New York City nightclubs and went on wild shopping escapades all over town. We also shared strong notions of right and wrong and a drive to be successful in life. Darren — now a fashion industry consultant in New York City — is loyal, kind, fun, generous, talented, and smart. After all this time, he knows me better than I know myself, and he’d be the perfect boyfriend, except that he already has the perfect boyfriend. For six years he’s been with Sam, a sexy, brainy guy who teaches French and African history at a prep school.
One day in the fall of 2006, we were in a lingerie shop where Darren and Sam were helping me find some sexy underwear for a date. In a total I-love-you-guys moment, I blurted out, “You two would be the best dads! When are we going to have a baby together?” We all laughed. And then we stopped laughing. It was too crazy to consider — can you imagine us all raising a child together? But as the months went on, the idea kept coming up, and our conversations about it got serious.
We spent a good year discussing it — whether we could afford it, what would happen if I moved to Costa Rica full time, or if their jobs took them away, or if, God forbid, Sam and Darren were to break up. I’m convinced we talked about having a baby more than any regular couple ever did. Ultimately, we decided that life is unpredictable, so we’d just have to roll with whatever came up, like all parents do.
By Easter of 2007, we’d made our decision. The baby would have my egg, Darren’s sperm, and Sam’s last name. We wrote up a custody strategy with the help of some lawyer friends: I’d have the child with me in Costa Rica and the guys would visit us there, then when I was back we’d all split time between New York (where they live) and New Jersey (where I live).
Because I was past the prime baby-making years, I saw a fertility specialist, who told me everything was in order. It would cost more than 10 grand to be artificially inseminated, so we figured we’d first try to do it ourselves. Sex was out of the question (it would be like sleeping with your brother), so we tried the next best thing: the turkey baster. I bought a digital ovulation monitor, and during my first fertility window, we nailed the sequence in Sam and Darren’s apartment: Darren did his thing in their bedroom, Sam ran it into the guest room where I was waiting. After he left, I sucked up the goods into the baster, did my thing, called out “OK!”, and the guys came in and we gossiped for 20 minutes. The second month we tried it, I got pregnant.

I was selective about whom I told. Being in the service industry for so many years has made me good at reading people — I knew who could handle the full explanation and who couldn’t. Most of our friends and family are progressive, so the response was pretty positive. Darren’s parents and mine pledged their support and energy. But Sam’s mother and stepfather, devout Evangelical Christians from Little Rock, Arkansas, had a harder time with it. They believe homosexuality is a sin and spend a good deal of time praying for our souls. But they ultimately came to acknowledge our baby as their grandchild, sending gifts and loving notes — which I find admirable. I was less impressed with a few of the guys’ friends in the city, who weren’t as supportive as we thought they’d be; they said it would never work out and told Darren and Sam to “get everything in writing.”

Kristine then goes on to tell how they’re sharing the parenting, tossing the baby girl (Olive) back and forth, if you will, like a football or toy that they share. (See her blog entry for details).

She then goes on to say: “And Olive will also face the challenge of having to explain her family. People ask me presumptuous questions about the custody agreement or whether her daddies play an active role or if I just asked my gay best friend for his sperm. That couldn’t be further from the truth. Darren, Sam, Olive, and I — we’re a family. We’re the real thing. I know we’ll face challenges that a regular family wouldn’t. But while plenty of married couples make great parents, some don’t! I’m just happy that my daughter has a mommy and two daddies who all love each other, and are bananas about her.”

Well, fast-forward a few years, and what do we have? A custody lawsuit from Kristine, which she lost. The idiot says she fell in love with her neighbor in Costa Rica, Alan, where she used to spend half of her time. Alan who is divorced, with kids, wanted to move to California, and Kristine wanted to be with him – without marrying, of course, these are liberals we’re talking about. So she sues to take Olive to form a family with Alan in California. And the two homos say no, the toy is ours.

Along the way, problems develop with their little “arrangement”, as the court decision summarizes:
Though “[Doug and Shawn] have always respected [Kristine] and have cooperated in sharing parenting time with her,” Kristine has sometimes not reciprocated. “[T]he court finds instances of [Kristine]’s unwillingness to allow parenting time of [Doug and Shawn] with the child”, wanting, as her mother, to spend more time with her little girl.

The Court has sided with the homos. Clearly, the court is a bunch of grotesque liberals who thinks two perverted homosexuals are legitimate parents. Not that this case offers a better alternative with the liberal mother. But this is the situation they have created: If Kristine, the mother, wants to move to be with her new boyfriend in California, she loses her daughter – and the daughter loses the only mother she has. Now granted that a woman who decided to have a baby with two homosexual pigs is clearly not fit to be a mother for any child. Nevertheless she is still the child’s mother. If Kristine is forced to stay near the homosexual couple to be with her daughter, it will break up her new relationship with Alan. Just how much resentment and bad blood will that generate between the parties? I suppose liberals are too stupid to ask the question. But the child will surely be affected by it. In the middle of it all is an innocent child, Olive, who starts off her life being in the custody of two homosexual pigs and an equally irresponsible mother, none of which can provide to the child a loving home with a mother and father who love each other. Only a demented liberal would think this is right and, what is more aberrant, that this is progress.

Listen to Kristine’s words: “Darren, Sam, Olive, and I — we’re a family. We’re the real thing.”

No, you’re just three disgusting human beings. And now you have created a complete mess of an environment for an innocent child.

Kristine was right about this: “And Olive will also face the challenge of having to explain her family.”

Indeed, let’s see how that will go when Olive tries that: OK, I have a father who is too perverted to have a healthy relationship with a woman, so he sticks his banana in the behind of this other guy, while my mother took something from him and inserted into her, to make me, but then she wanted to have this other guy stick his banana into her, but the two homos, my father and his pig of a friend didn’t like that. So now my mom is really mad at the two pigs because they took me away to live with them during the week, and they tell my mom she shouldn’t have tried to take me California, and that I should just forget her when she isn’t there, because my dad has a homo for a friend and which little girl needs a mother all the time anyways?

See, Kristine, the “real thing”!