SOME PEOPLE have had the audacity to argue that having a baby may very well widen your waist but it canNOT frizz your hair, ruin your nails, or shorten your legs.
HELLO!! I posit that these people have never tried having a baby.
Item 1: Frizzy hair. Just try to keep your hair in smooth, voluptuous curls like on the commercials or on the cover of your book when immediately following the application of mousse and the scrunching, you pick up a baby, and the baby immediately grabs two fistfuls of that hair in her slimey fists (she uses her fists as teething rings) and grins in delight, so pleased to have caught a mommy.
Item 2: Nails. My nails are pretty strong. But trust me on this one, no nails can survive repeated efforts to get a wiggling baby in and out of a car seat, in and out of a stroller, a stroller in and out of the trunk of a car, or a diaper bag over one shoulder when, just at the precise moment of grabbing the diaper bag in one hand, the baby in the other tries to take a nose dive for a passing cat. The first time I went out shopping with Mia in tow and without Sébastien to help, I broke four nails within a couple of hours. Lately I have not broken any nails because I don’t have any left.
Item 3: Shorter legs. So just what do you think the purpose of stiletto boots IS? It is to make your legs look longer. And, trust me on this one, you cannot wear stiletto boots while getting up off the floor and down again with an eighteen-pound baby in your arms, it will KILL your knees. Well, that’s what happens to my knees. I retain an indelible memory of a Parisian mother I saw in the Marais one day, in 10-centimeter black stiletto thigh high boots, a flirty skirt dancing just above the leather, her face bent to coo at the little blond baby snuggled in its black baby carrier against her chest. At the time, the sight gave me hope that I, too, could have a baby and stay so classy. But now I have decided that Parisians are the products of years of genetic engineering to remain classy in all situations, kind of like Lois McMaster Bujold’s Cetagandans.
In response to these very clearly WINNING arguments, SOME PEOPLE have had the even worse audacity to defend their losing position by saying, “It’s true that it was extremely silly to portray you as eating a dessert that wasn’t chocolate. But, umm, you know, Laura, you had frizzy hair before you had a baby. And you never really were any good at doing your nails, especially when you had to use your left hand to try to do your right hand, the results were just sad in an adult woman. Sad. And even adding 4-inch stilettos to the length of your legs did not make them exactly…long.”
To THOSE PEOPLE, I say, If you cannot be part of the solution, don’t be part of the problem. And, if I ever make you another special birthday dessert, it will be VANILLA.