Wednesday, April 13, 2011
As I lay on the mat doing my crunches tonight I couldn't help but think about my running analysis. Specifically about the mASSive expansion of my butt bouncing up and down in slow motion. And as I replayed that horrifying memory over in my mind I could help butt* reflect on a topic of conversation my coworkers and I explored this past weekend: Mom Butt.
If you aren't familiar with the phenomenon I insist you take a minute to watch the SNL Mom Jeans skit. Go ahead, press play. I'll wait.
Now that we're all up to speed, let's discuss.
I get that having children leads to inevitable biological and structural changes. I mean, before I'm going to squeeze a watermelon out my girly bits somethings going to have to move. And I don't mean to be insensitive to the cause. I'd be lying if I didn't admit that the Mom Butt epidemic terrifies me.
I am confident there are mom's out there who don't fit the mold. Like J Lo. Ok, bad example because if I recall correctly she's insured her ASSets. Is it possible to avoid the Mom Butt? Or reverse it? Do all mom's get it? What if you adopt? Is it still called Mom Butt if you are not in fact a mom? What if you're a lesbian? And why aren't dad's subjected to the same woes of childbearing?
It seems only inevitable that, with the already abundant bottom I have, that I will someday be another victim of the Mom Butt**. This is in fact a reason for me to think twice about procreation (well, that and a certain niece who shall not be named). But I digress. I vow to do everything in my power that if I cannot avoid it, I will do my best to delay the onset for as long as I can.
Did I mention that I did an extra set of glut bridges tonight? Because I did. Just for good measure.
*Yes, I meant this typo was intentional.
**And NO, I am not preggers people so don't go there.