I read this on a whim. It seemed interesting- but it turned out to be more TMI than just interesting! There wasn’t a lot of super practical advice, more like anecdotes about all the gross things about pregnancy. Which, I mean, I would rather read an honest portrayal of pregnancy than “everything was roses and rainbows and soft kitties and my precious angelpants baby was bestowed on me in a shower of daisies,” but still. I can’t really tell you one entertainment-related thing that I knew Jenny McCarthy from before reading this book, but I can tell you a great deal about her pooping history.