Are Moms Sexy? Like, For Real?
I always come back to this question.
After being with my husband for nearly a decade and surviving the birth of two kids, major postpartum depression, and a plethora of rough times, it never ceases to boggle my mind when James gawks at me like a horny teenager as I’m changing into my pajamas. Or when my guy friends tell me I look smokin’ hot when I show up to a dance venue wearing just a touch of mascara and a tight pair of jeans.
Like, holy cow. Do they have ANY CLUE what my body and mind have been through? I’ve been blown up like a fat tick twice and hollered like an Amazon Jungle cat while watching a gooey, squished alien emerge from my loins like a scene out of the worst horror flick imaginable. I’ve got stretch marks on my breasts and hips and thighs and a few (I know, I know, invisible ones) on my belly. Three different kinds of prolapse. Scars on my va-jay-jay from ripping in half, surgery, and ruptured glands. Part of where I tore the first time was so severed it never even healed back. And my “happiness” is contingent upon a hefty dose of anti-crazy pills.
And yet, somehow, they still find me sexy. And somehow, despite all I’ve been through- or maybe because I’ve been through it- I feel five times sexier now than I did before I had kids. Not always, but frequently.
Amazing how that works.
So I’m curious, what do you think? Ladies? Gentlemen? Don’t be shy! Are moms sexy, like, for real?
Current Mood:
Cool
