The Hotness
Posted by admin | Filed under Insane in the MOMbrane, Stay At Home Moms, Womanhood
There is very little less sexy than being the mother of a toddler and a preschooler.
Seriously. People tell you that "motherhood becomes you" when you have children, but I am convinced that this is said only to make new mothers feel better about their deflated, saggy, distended bodies. It's kind of a pat on the back, like a "Buck up, you look like shit, but that shouldn't matter any more, right? You're a mother."
Fuck that.
I will be the first to admit that my body is not what it was before I had kids. I think the body part that has most suffered are my boobs. Once upon a time, I rocked those tiny little spaghetti strap tank tops — while bra-less. I wore tube tops and didn't have to worry about looking flat-chested. I had a tight little belly button, and a perky little ass.
That's right, beeeeeeeotch!
Now, my boobs are… *DEEP SIGH* My belly button is… *SNIFFLE* My ass is… *SOB* *GASP* *SOB*
However. I am not even close to throwing in the towel. No way, dudes. I go to the gym and abuse those butt and chest machines. I take my vitamins. I try to eat well (minus the occasional Amos cookie binge. And macaroni and cheese binge. And… shit, people I have kids. I've got junk food all over the place). I MOISTURIZE. That's right. For those you not in the know, read this and begin to moisturize, or die a premature death by dry skin. You didn't think the situation was that dire, did you? Ha! Clearly you haven’t been reading Lisa Rinna’s books. Tsk, tsk.
At some point, I may even get some of that botulism toxin injected into my face and those sacks of saline inserted into my boobs. It all depends on how shitty I get to looking in the future. I guess we’ll see just how successful Nora and Ava are at sucking the life force out of me in the course of the next several years.
But rest assured, I will fight to the death. Yes, yes, I know, looks aren’t important, what’s important is family and inner beauty and WAH WAH WAH WAH (a la Charlie Brown). That’s just what ugly people say to make themselves feel better. *Snicker* Plus, what woman doesn’t want her husband (and that hot dude at the coffee shop wearing the scrubs) to look her up and down and think, “Now THAT is a MILF.”
Yeah, baby, that’s what I thought.
So. Yes, I get up in the morning and take care of myself, even if it means letting my girls eat deodorant while I apply some mascara. And I put on some nice-fitting jeans and a push-up bra, even if the only place I go the entire day is to my mailbox while my 8,000-year-old neighbors peer out their windows and probably mutter something about me being a “hussy.” (For the record, I have no evidence that my neighbors think I’m a hussy. A wedgie-picking bitch? Yes. A hussy? Not yet. I’m working on it. These things take time.) And while it’s not the most practical thing, carrying around a toddler in a v-neck top and a push-up bra, since you never know when she’ll grab you and your boobs will tumble out, that’s a risk I’m willing to take.
What about you, you saucy little minx? Come on. MILF status is just around the corner…
Tags: boobs, botox, Charlie Brown, implants, Lisa Rinna, MILF
You Know You’re The Mom of a Preschooler When…
Posted by admin | Filed under Insane in the MOMbrane, Just plain funny, Motherhood, Preschoolers, Uncategorized
You tell time by Noggin and PBS: Super Why – WHY am I awake? Sesame Street – Jesus, Joseph and Mary, is it only 9 in the morning??? Caillou – watching that bald-headed little bitch instead of taking a nap, goddammit. Max and Ruby – someone shoot me. Immediately. The Backyardigans – So…. close….
You have to hide in the closet to eat anything that contains sugar.
A hot guy checks you out and you assume you've tucked your skirt into your panties / left your fly open / have an entire lunch salad in your teeth / have feces on your shirt. Or all of the above.
The catchiest tune you hear all day is the "Rescue Pack" song from Go Diego Go.
You actually start salsa dancing every time you hear the "Rescue Pack" song.
You say you're going to the "potty" regardless of who you're talking to.
The productive part of your day starts at 8 pm.
You've started to understand your own mom, and finally get why she had this permanent scowl on her face the whole time you were growing up.
You hear women with tiny babies talk about how much they love being mothers and you can hardly contain your mirth.
That woman with the screaming kids at the grocery store? Not only do you sympathize with her, you bitch slap anyone who complains about her. That is assuming "that woman" isn't actually you.
Your default response to every request is either "No" or "(Fuck) no."
Everyone you know has seen your boobs. While you were dead sober.
You can actually hear your brain cells dying as you play "tea party" for the 16th time in two hours… They're begging you… to stop…. Pleeeeeeeeeaaaaaase….
Ok guys, what am I missing?
Tags: boobs, Feces, grocery store, noggin, PBS, sugar
I Am a One Person Freak Show
Posted by admin | Filed under Babies, Insane in the MOMbrane, Just plain funny, Uncategorized, Womanhood, breastfeeding
Ava isn't the only one over the booby-feeding. If there are any dudes out there reading this, I have to warn you right now: This is WAY TMI. Continue reading at your own risk.
I admit that my left booby has always been slightly bigger than my right booby. So after I had Nora, it was no big surprise that my left booby produced more milk than my right. It wasn't a huge issue at the time. Ava, however, decided when she was just a tiny little peanut that she preferred my left booby over my right – probably because it produces more milk and therefore gets in her BELLEH faster. (Aren't all babies little Fat Bastards?) This was, to say the least, mildly problematic. I found myself actually trying to FORCE her to nurse from the right side. As she got older and developed something of an attitude, I would offer her the right side and she would turn her head away, stick out her tongue and BRRRRAAAAAAATTTTT! As if I were trying to feed her feces. (BINGO!)
So my body adjusted and, lo and behold, I started producing WAAAAAAAAY more milk on the left side than the right. As it stands, my boobs are two entirely different cup sizes, and I find myself having to stuff my right cup so that I don't look like a freak.
I am over it. Really, breast is best and all that shit, but I'm tired of my freakish boobs. Sure, when I stop they'll deflate like popped balloons (complete with sound effects and flapping), but at least they'll BOTH deflate. As it is, I have one Scarlett Johansson boob and one Keira Knightley boob, and the benefits of neither. Seriously.
My rack. I even drew a little arrow for you, pointing out the discrepancy. God, I rock Photoshop.
Tags: Ava, boobs, bra, breastfeeding, Fat Bastard, Nora
Over My Boobs
Posted by admin | Filed under Babies, Motherhood, Uncategorized, Womanhood, breastfeeding, parenting
I think Ava is over the whole breastfeeding thing, much to my chagrin. And I'm chagrined not so much because I'll miss the closeness breastfeeding brings, but because I'm a lazy lump of a human being.
It was so easy being able to stick a boob in Ava's mouth every time she got fussy. Only a breastfeeding mother can be utter (HA!) and complete solace to a screaming baby in so many ways. It used to bug the shit out of TH when Ava was a tiny peanut, because while he scrambled around frantically trying to figure out how to get her to stop crying, I would just insert nipple. BAM. Problem solved – for the time being, anyway. TH argues that this is a cop-out, and I respond by reminding him that I was the one who endured childbirth, the countless sleepless nights, the physical pain and discomfort of everything mother-related, so being able to quiet my baby with my swollen boobs is the LEAST he can grant me. FOR. GOD'S. SAKE.
Now, however, Ava has absolutely no interest in nursing. When I try to get her to nurse (because I feel like the ol' boobies may explode), she raises her eyebrows as if to say, "Dude, lady, get yo' titties out of my face." She's got places (under the coffee table) to go, people (Nora) to see. She hasn't got time to indulge the crazy lady who keeps grabbing her own breasts and moaning (and not in a good way, people).
So with breastfeeding coming to an end, I am faced with having to prepare a bottle, and that just sucks enormous monkey nuts. Not just because I'm a sloth, either, but because formula is freaking expensive. Sure, she eats a lot of solids, but still… I was hoping she'd last a wee bit longer. *Sigh.* I may have to kiss the buoyant bosom goodbye and say hello to the sad, empty sacks that will be my boobs (until I get a breast lift and / or implants. Oh, yes, yes I'm going there).
Photo by kakade via Flickr.
So a question or two for you mommies: How long do you / did you breastfeed? And will you be doing something about the disaster that will be your jugs afterward? Or are ya'll going to embrace the aboriginal look (plus or minus the miracle bra with Level 5 Padding: The Ultimate Lift)?
Tags: boobies, boobs, breastfeeding, cosmetic surgery, formula, miracle bra, nursing
I Don’t Get It
Posted by admin | Filed under In the News, Motherhood, Uncategorized, breastfeeding
I am a breastfeeder. That is not to say that I am a breastfeeding Nazi – far from it. I think every woman should choose what is best for her and her own baby. I nursed Nora for 13 months, until she decided that her thumb was a more comforting appendage than my nipple, and I am still nursing Ava. Have I nursed in public? Sure. I don't like doing it, and I always use one of those “hooter hider” thingies. But sometimes it's necessary. I make sure to try and find a discrete corner and don't make a big deal about it. Honestly, if people are uncomfortable with seeing your baby nurse, please, don't force your boobs in their faces. It won't kill you to ask if they mind before whipping out a breast. Yeah, yeah, it's sad that we feel this way about something so natural, but I'm not sure what you are achieving by forcing it on people.
So recently I came across this. Salma Hayek decided to breastfeed a starving baby (on camera) in order to help destigmatize breastfeeding in Africa. Basically, men believe women can't have sex if they are still breastfeeding, so they tend to discourage nursing. Pro-breastfeeder have praised her, while others have cringed.
Here's my problem with this: What exactly did she achieve? If it was to feed the starving baby, she could have simply pumped her milk for him. If it was to help remove the stigma in Africa, I'm not sure how nursing someone else's kid helps that. I guess she thought that African men must find her sexy (as all men worldwide must), and therefore she could nurse and still be sexy…? Ok, I'm not following the reasoning, here. As for raising the stigma of public nursing here in the U.S., well, she could have nursed her own kid on camera and achieved the same effect.
Whatever. She got attention from it, one way or the other. Yes, Salma, your jugs are huge. We already knew that.
Photo by Hamad A-Mohanna via Flickr
Tags: Africa, boobs, breastfeeding, nursing, Salma Hayek
