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
Who ARE These People?
Posted by admin | Filed under Insane in the MOMbrane, Just plain funny, No One But Your Mom, Uncategorized, Womanhood
And why do they think they're qualified to offer advice?
I was haunting the bookstore during my child-free, babysitter time when I came across a couple books that made me chuckle with contempt. The first was this one:
Now I'm not sure who this chick is, but she clearly thinks she's famous. Not just that, she also thinks that because she married a "Count" (am I the only one who feels like she just time traveled to the the 1800's?) she's qualified to write a book on etiquette. Oh, I'm sorry, I mean CLASS. I don't know about you, but I've got class coming out of my ass.
A particularly cute passage in the book addresses play dates:
Manners For Playdates:
- Say hello to the adult in charge.
- Do not help yourself to the fridge or cupboards.
- Don't wander about into bedrooms.
- Politely ask for a drink or a snack.
- Help to clean up.
- Say good-bye and thank you.
Oh, thank GOD for your advice, Countess. Because I would have been truly fucked without it. I mean, who would have thought to say hello to the "adult in charge" of the playdate? Who, exactly, is this chick's target audience? Inbred rednecks? And why do I have the sneaking suspicion that by "adult in charge" she means "nanny"? Yes, we mustn't be rude to the nanny. That's rule Numero Uno in the quest for elegance.
What-fucking-EVER.
The other book that had me choking on my latte was this one:
Lisa Rinna is offering YOU, dear reader, the BEST LIFE EVER. Because she has one, apparently. Now no offense to Lisa, but I can't say I'm particularly envious of her or her life. Not the Days of Our Lives, or the Melrose Place, or the posing nude while pregnant thing, or the Dancing With the Stars thing. Generally speaking, Lisa Rinna falls in my "They're still around?" category of celebrities. Not to be confused with my "Why won't they go away" category (Paris Hilton) or "I would love to smack them" category (Miss California). Granted, there is plenty of overlap, but I wouldn't go so far as to say I want to slap Lisa. I'm just "eh" about her.
In her book, Lisa offers beauty, diet, and fitness advice that was written by a chimp. "Drink green tea" is an example. Another one is "order Zone meals." God, I fucking love (and by "love" I mean "hate") celebrities. And she also grants advice on – brace yourself here – how to plump up your lips. Lisa needs to start reading Dlisted, because she seems to think women WANT lips like hers. Like a swollen vagina. Oddly enough, her advice does not involve collagen. What a shocker. Oh, and folks, Lisa simply cannot stress enough how important moisturizing is. Please, people. Fucking moisturize yourselves. It's the key to the best. Life. EVER.
Okay, now that I'm done making fun of so-called celebrities, back to my web design.
Tags: advice, books, bookstore, celebrities, etiquette, Lisa Rinna, Paris Hilton, playdate, vagina
