So you decided to have a baby and now you find yourself catching loose skin in your too small jeans. Your boobs look like deflated balloons, and your thighs have started several small fires…
Maybe you are feeling like this poor soul;
“Like many women, I wanted to be the perfect mother and gave virtually all my time and attention to the children,” Ellie told CometicSurgery.com. “I got to the point where I had put myself at the bottom of my priorities and even went around without makeup. In a word, I had become a frump.”
While she was taking stock, Ellie also started thinking how her appearance might affect her children. After all, the children see loads of ideal beauties every day, thanks primarily to the media, and then make comparisons to mom, the real woman they see daily.
“If I lose respect for myself, my kids may also lose respect for me and then themselves,” Ellie thought, “Perhaps the children would have a better role model if they saw me as more outgoing and confident – and not so frumpy.”
Yes dear hearts we must avoid frump at all costs. Don’t encourage your children to see people for who they are, don’t encourage them to be good, decent, kind and thoughtful people, don’t work on your own shortcomings in order to lead by example on self reflection and self change…indeed no!
If you really care about your children you will immediately haul hefty ass to the local butcher shop cosmetic surgeon and have your breasts plumped, your stomach and thigh fat pumped, and your visa bill bumped. This and only this will make you the ideal model for your children.
Most especially your daughters.
Ellies seven year old had this to say after her multiple procedure surgery;
“Mommy! You look really good!”
Now how many of us not having had that surgery can say the same? WOW that’s a lot of hands….ok bad example.
The point is you have a duty to your family to look like you never had children. One must really read the entire article in order to appreciate just how awful you must look for having made the decision to give birth.
We’ll give the last word on this subject to the Mikhaela, Your Yucky Body Mommy Makeover Edition
It’s exhausting just reading about de-frumping, let alone imagining the pain, risk, time, stress, money, etc. that would be involved in undergoing the mutilating marathon to achieve Franken-mommy status.
Very sad.
Ah, but worth every drop of blood, every wince, every screech, every agonized groan. A few problems do come to mind. There you are, healed and once again upright and taking (restricted) nourishment (mustn’t gain weight!), in the supermarket with your darling Trixie, Mixie, and Bixie, carefully guiding your shopping cart (look out for the plastic fingernails, dearie, mustn’t chip the varnish), teetering along on your high heels, your tight and tidy butt wiggling, your pneumatic lips glistening with the latest gloss. All around you are other refurbished mommees, doing the same thing.
Mixie, the little darling, darts down an aisle in search of some pufty tuftie cereal, comes racing back with it, takes a look around…fortyfour identical clone Mommee types…
WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH, I want my real mommy!
I DON’T KNOW YOU!
and starts screeching
STRANGER STRANGER
and there you are, in a jail cell, trying to explain to a very pissed off guard why it is you look absolutely nothing at all like the photo I.D. you have produced to prove you are, in fact, the child’s mom!!