This isn’t exactly a green topic, but I saw a discussion over on Feministe about an article in the New York Times about women getting a “Mom job” after having a baby. And I just felt a strong need to post about it.
For those who, like me, never gave it a thought, a “Mom job” is plastic surgery for moms, trying to fix the “damage” caused by having kids.
Good thing my husband considers all that to be a badge of honor.
I know I’m one of the lucky ones. A mere 10-15 pounds over what I was before having children, and I was on the low side of the recommended weight range back then. I’m not fat, even if I am quite conscious of the changes and do indeed miss my old figure. I can see the differences, even if they aren’t nearly so visible to the rest of the world.
But there is no way I would get plastic surgery to fix it. After childbirth I don’t need more pain in my life, and I’m not that vain to begin with.
It really saddens me how obsessed people can be with keeping women looking young. The young teen body with large breasts seems to be a common ideal in the media, even though I know plenty of men who prefer a plumper figure.
I don’t want to look like teenage me, or even early-20s me anymore. I’m 35. I’ve lived.
This also makes me think of a workplace conversation one of my sisters related to me. One of her coworkers told her she shouldn’t smile too much.
You see, it causes wrinkles. So quit smiling.
My sister and I were in agreement. Better smile lines than frown lines, and you’re going to get wrinkles someday.
I could wish more women could accept that they are going to get older. That the media would make it more acceptable. That all the pressures to be young, thin and busty would go away. I think we all know how likely that is.
I’m going to close with an appropriate quote from Robert Heinlein. One of the commenters on Feministe beat me to it, although I thought of it right away on reading the article:
Nursing does not diminish the beauty of a womanâ€™s breasts; it enhances their charm by making them look lived in and happy.
R A Heinlein