Quick Honey Take a Picture of My Sexy Pregnant Ass

While the Japanese may be ahead of us in many areas of electronics, cars, special effects and perhaps even weapons development, they are …I am going to with centuries upon centuries behind…um like the rest of the world if taking naked pictures of women while pregnant is a “new trend.” I recently read this article that discusses the new trend of photographing pregnant women in the nude. While some people say this came into vogue when Demi Moore did it, I am going to say Europeans have been painting women since the Renasaaicnce ages with all body shapes – some with big big curves, some that are just fat and some that were pregnant. We are really kidding ourselves if we think Britney Spears or Ms. Moore started this trend.

But putting who “did it first” aside, I have to ask you, my friends….Really?! I know, I know. Pregnancy is sexy. Pregnancy is beautiful. Pregnancy is natural. Pregnancy is…blah blah blah.  Sure those pictures when you are 18 weeks and you looked like you swallowed a little basketball may be all well and cute and good (provided of course you are still working out with your trainer, still don’t eat carbs, and are a celebrity with a great personal shopper), but by 35 weeks (okay okay 28 weeks) I was feeling pretty whaleish.  Here is something I NEVER said while pregnant “I am feeling so damn sexy lets just capture THIS moment forever.” My pregnancy involved lots of things I did NOT want captured on film.

And while Angelina Jolie claims Brad Pitt made her feel “sexy the whole time” she was pregnant I have two things to say: 1. I am not Angelina, and my husband is no Brad and 2. She is full of shit.

I had a hard enough time taking pictures with my clothes on. Thank God for digital – I was deleting at least 8.6 pics for every 10 that were taken. Call me vain. Call me shallow. Call me anti-feminist, but “naked”, “pregnant” and “photo” really don’t belong in one sentence. (Actually, if you talk to Paris Hilton, and a few other overly trusting celebrities the word “naked” and “pictures” alone don’t belong in the same sentence, but I think that is another post entirely. )

So in sum, it was hard enough to look at myself in the mirror for those 3.2 God aweful seconds between disrobing and the shower – why in the WORLD do I want those 3.2 seconds captured on film? For OTHERS to see. Forever.

Baby Chiquita

I found my unborn baby in the produce section………….Okay I am just kidding…don’t get scared.

There are a lot of things that I find really weird about pregnancy, for example the way most of my books about pregnancy describe the baby as it develops. Am I the only one that has noticed that whoever is creating these baby development books has a serious fruit fetish!?

First my baby is the size of a raisin, then a grape, then a pear, then a small plum, then a lemon, then a large grapefruit, then a melon….I am terrified now to go to the produce aisle for fear that I will be eating something that reminds me of the baby. I don’t even want to look at a fruit salad…now that idea just seems horrific to me. It  makes me think of those guys from the fruit of the Loom commercials – the giant fruit with big hands and feet and smiley faces.

The one book I do have that is totally amazing because it does not describe the baby as any sort of fruit or veggie is called From Conception to Birth: A Life Unfolds. This book is very different from the What to Expect books or Your Pregnancy Week by Week. Instead of taking about your baby in terms of the food pyramid, it actually shows images of a baby – from one cell through nine months. Granted the baby does at times look like a shrimp, and then kind of a mutant so he/she may not be as “cute” as you are picturing at 5 or 6 weeks but it is AWESOME to see what your little person-to-be ACTUALLY looks like. Some of the photos are digitally enhanced, some are taken using MRI and other imaging machines, but they are not harmful to the baby. Unfortunately, I bought a different book that claimed to be showing the same thing as this one, but it was really meant more for medical students. The images were not appropriate for an expectant mother so just be careful you buy the right one!

This book however, is like getting to peek through your belly button..without all the calories of fruit salad.

Back to Cool….

I fully recognize that I have some emotional issues because any mother that refuses to let her poor three year old daughter get the Dora backpack she wants because it is a “cheesy cartoon character” has some serious issues. I believe I was hugged enough as a child, I have my own sense of “fashion identity”, I am pretty secure in myself – I don’t have an overwhelming sense of self-loathing, but something inside me just can’t do it. I ask myself  ”Why do I REALLY care!?”

With it soon being time to go back to school, we decided it was time to get a backpack. Yeah, I know, a little late since every other mother bought them like fourth of July weekend, but hey, we work on a 24 hour schedule in this house – if it doesn’t have to be dealt with in the next day, we are not even THINKING about it.

So we roll into an adorable little boutique for girls. You know one of those stores where you know you are going to pay 5 times what something is worth, but you are just so damned psyched to have a girly girl you could care less?! Anyway Avery immediately spots the most horrific backpack ever and is like “THIS ONE MOMMY!” Really!? THAT ONE!? I mean what do you think was the most appealing characteristic? The shiny, Made-in-China plastic that was so cheaply made it just SMELLED toxic, or the bright fuschia and hot pink combo that just “popped” off flaming orange background, or the giant Dora next to the word “Vamanos”!!! To make it even MORE unappealing (if that is possible!), this backpack was the only total cheese ball one. This little “gem” was surrounded by the most adorable backpacks – ones with hand stitched bunny rabbits, and quilted patterns in soft pinks and blue, and little polka dot and ribbon combos…WHY AVERY WHY!??!

So I did what any good, well adjust mother would do. I negotiated and made an offer she could not refuse. I told her to pick any toy out in the store she wanted, she could sleep in my bed that night and just to seal the deal without a tantrum I even through in ice cream on the way home. I then I bought the backpack I wanted….and called my therapist about my self-esteem issues.