I can appreciate that it is hard to come into your own as an adult in the spotlight of the paparazzi. I agree that it is completely unfair that you can't go to Starbucks for a five dollar cup of coffee without being mobbed. On the other hand, the hundred million or so you have in the bank should considerably lesson the sting of this pesky problem, and really should enable you to use some better tactics to get away from all the photographers (perhaps you could call Brad and Angelina for some tips?). Just so you know, I personally am accosted by my rabid blog fans each time I enter my local supercenter. They crowd the aisles and try to lick my toes as I pass. I can't keep a pedicure looking good for longer than a couple of days, and it is crying shame. I feel your pain, Britney.
I think you probably aren't an absolutely terrible mother, though I do question your judgment at times. I do wonder why the guard next to you in the car during the Pacific highway fiasco did not take the baby from your driving lap and place him in his seat while you sped away, if indeed you felt like you must drive before snapping him in yourself. This is not rocket science, Brit. I can call you Brit, right? Great. I love it that we're connecting like this. I also wonder why you would not put your son in a rear facing seat, which is really no more inconvenient than a forward facing one. Also, have you heard of a hat? Surely you don't want baby Sean Preston to have a nasty sunburn because you just had to have the top down on your convertible?
Just so you know, the whole tripping thing doesn't bother me at all. I drop my baby all the time. Mainly because he dives out of my arms with a maniacal laugh, but a couple of times because I am just dang clumsy. It's OK. Kids are delightfully rubbery, and thank goodness for it. If not, my kid would for sure be in a helmet by now. That would actually come in handy when I chose to race down the highway in a convertible, but I don't have the cash for a non- Mommy car on hand, so it's really a moot point anyway.
I do have to take issue with your wardrobe choices. If you think it is just plain cruel of people to disdain your southern heritage and call you a redneck, perhaps you should consult a stylist before going on national television. Pregnant women in super short skirts and breasts bursting forth from their blouses do, in fact, scream "white trash". I am sure you saw enough trailer parks in Louisiana to substantiate my claim. Perhaps you are trying to start a new style. If this is the case, I must beg you to stop at once. It was
kind of Matt Lauer to wear those terrible shoes without socks and try to distract my eye from actually searching for the edge of your right aureola. Sadly, this worked only when the shot showed his feet, and much of the time the camera was focused only on your train wreck of a bosom. Hours after, my eyes are still bleeding a little.