Saturday, October 6, 2007
Everywhere I look lately, I see references to MILFs, or Moms I'd Like To...well, you know. Thing is, I am most certainly not a MILF. I'm more like a MITIRFBIJNAITW, or Mom I Think Is Really Fun But I'm Just Not Attracted To In That Way. I think I'm okay with that. In fact, I sort of resent the implication that I need to be a hot mama. Don't I have enough to worry about without having to compete with Jami Pressley, who US Magazine tells me lost 30 pounds on the ride home from the hospital?
The New York Times ran an article last week about the trend in "Mommy Makeovers," which are plastic surgery packages that include a breast lift, tummy tuck, and liposuction to reduce the "deformities" brought on by pregnancy and nursing. Geesh.
Look, I am not exactly thrilled with the fact that my once-impressive boobs now resemble wet tube socks stapled to my chest, or that no pair of jeans on earth can conceal the sagging donut of flesh that now hangs around my midriff. But, honestly, isn't it sort of to be expected? And, besides, I was no bikini model before this whole process began. Carrying two babies just sort of finished me off.
I'm not saying that women shouldn't take care of themselves. I know that, for myself and for my kids, I need to lose weight, get active, and stay healthy. I spend money on clothes and shoes and a good haircut at a decent salon. I try not to leave the house in sweats, or with too much spit-up on my shirt. But the idea that I should aspire to weighing 92 pounds and rocking 4-inch Louboutins while taking my kids to the zoo is a little insane. (Celebrities are not "Just Like Us!") I don't have that kind of energy.
At what point to we get to give up, just a little, on the idea that looking great is our primary concern? I can just see it fifty years from now: "Gwen Stefani Still Sexy at 85!" "How to Stay Hot on Nursing Home Gruel!" "Dentures That Give You a Seductive Smile" "Coffins That Compliment Your Curves." I am exhausted just imagining it.