My parent's way of dealing with my pregnancy at 18 was to force me to read a book called "Damaged Goods" that likened girls who had sex before marriage to the rummage/sale rack at the store that has all the clothes with holes or missing buttons.. and how people rummage through those damaged clothes, but never actually buy them because they're nasty and have deodorant and makeup marks on them. Oh, and the only people that DO buy the "damaged goods" are men who are poor, or mean, or otherwise scuzzy that they can't afford a "real" wife, who isn't "damaged".
If you really need to permanently and swiftly screw up your relationship with your daughters, this book is the fastest and easiest way to do it.
Luckily, they got out of the church that was brainwashing them, realized that people today really don't give a flip who or how or what you've slept with and generally quit being idiots. Now I'm married to a man that is the envy of ANY woman, and shockingly, he really doesn't care that I have children by another man.
Go ahead with that home, Myhearts. If I'd had that option, I may have gone to a home for young mothers instead of leaving my parent's house and moving in with the extremely abusive, drug-addicted father. And when I eventually left with a newborn, I could have gone to a home like this instead of a Battered Women's Shelter.
Starting Score: EQ 679, TU 697