I just got my new issue of Cookie in the mail. On the cover is a glowing thirty-something mom in a micro-mini dress with a huge rock on her hand, holding an adorable baby boy. To complete the picture perfect mom there is a cute as a button blond little girl holding onto “mommy’s” leg.
I read Cookie because it’s an upscale mom’s magazine that has tons of high-end kid’s products and some pretty good articles that are geared more toward the actual woman than issues with the kids. Basically, it’s a magazine for women who also happen to have kids.
As I was flipping through the magazine this morning and drooling over the new Land Rover LR3 (pg.22), I came upon a picture of two large pink water filled balloons. The article was about breast augmentation among Moms and I have to say that getting a “boob job” is something that I have always been interested in.
I have never had the porn star “perky” boobs…ever. These puppies have always been firmly supported by oh so sexy “comfort” bras in beige, white or black. Have you ever tried to find a sexy/cute bra in 36 D? Good luck.
Tucker and I have always joked that once I’m done being a baby/milk factory, Tucker will get me a new rack. I want at least two kids and plan on breastfeeding them all. So, by the time it is all said and done, not only will my girls be somewhere near my knees, they will most likely resemble pancakes instead of melons.
I’m not concerned about the surgery per se. The main thing that makes me nervous about the whole deal is that if you get implants, they don’t last forever and over the course of my life, I might have to get them replaced at least twice. Can you imagine the looks that a 70 year old me would get when I went in to get my boobs redone?
Another concern that I have is the addictive quality that plastic surgery can have. Since I have an addictive personality anyway, I’m not quite sure that I want to open that Pandora’s Box. First would come the boobs and then a little lipo here and there and maybe my neck could look a bit better…you get the idea. It’s a slippery slope to physical perfection.
So, maybe before I go there, I’ll just go out and get a $70 pair of walking shoes and take my new stroller and bored daughter out for a walk. It might help to eat normal portions (not a whole P’zone by myself) and maybe add a few more green things to my diet.
I have a few more years to go before a breast augmentation would be considered. Who knows, maybe by the time I’m done with birthin’ babies, I’ll be in a place where I won’t feel like I need a boob job.
