The Mom Butt is what my aunts had when I was growing up in LA. The Mom Butt is not what you will ever see in magazines, or posing on a red carpet, or being praised in Gweneth Paltrow’s no-bake, no-eat cookbook.
The other night my husband and I took our kids to swim at a lake nearby. This is an awesome lake that no one goes to on weekdays, and especially in the evening: which means we have it all to ourselves! We love this lake and try to take advantage of it as often as we can during the summer.
Now, after 5 enormous pregnancies and still having a few dozen pounds to lose before I get to pre-pregnancy, college-weight: I hate bathing suits. I have a body that was designed for having babies. I have never had a body that looks like any of the ladies on Pinterest who are stretching in green fields wearing hot pants and sports bras…
I can’t imagine running around my suburban neighborhood wearing this. Does it even come in size “I’ve-had-5-kids”?
…instead of wearing bulging compression pants and a red shirt that says, “Running Sucks” and sweating profusely in the safety of my backyard.
Even in high school…heck, even in Junior High I was a curvy woman. I was buying maternity dresses in order to wear something that could house my bossom, so to speak. My belly has never been firm, my thighs have never been sculpted.
Yet, I married a man who absolutely loves curvy, voluptuous, dark and witty women. Go me!
And plus, I actually like myself. I like my squishy belly, I like my monster calves, I like my curves and I like how I look. I’m pretty sure they made 50s petticoats for women like me to rock their curves with a hefty za-zing.
Even still, bathing suits are stuck on my “eeehhhhhhhhh….” list.
So, anyway, that night at the lake it was just us so I didn’t have to remind myself that I don’t need to worry about what other people think. I just enjoyed myself with my family, and my husband enjoyed me in a super cute, purple vintage bathing suit.
After we were all done swimming, we went back up to the car (see: SUV) to dry off and head home for dinner, and my husband asked me to turn around so he could take a picture of my hair. He said it was so beautiful and shining red in the afternoon sunlight.
My husband is the greatest, if you haven’t noticed.
I turn around and let him take a few pictures of my hair, which I am looking forward to seeing. We all get in the car and start driving away, and I start flipping through my husband’s phone to see the pictures of my awesome hair…
And my awesome butt.
In that picture, I was presented with an undeniable truth: I have a Mom Butt.
The Mom Butt is a little wider, a little flatter and a little longer than the butts on the totally dedicated and amazing women on Pinterest (mad props to them, seriously).
The Mom Butt is what my aunts’ had when I was growing up in LA. The Mom Butt is not what you will ever see in magazines, or posing on a red carpet, or being praised in Gweneth Paltrow’s no-bake, no-eat cookbook.
However, the Mom Butt can be found in my kitchen cooking totally awesome meals for my family. It can be found sitting behind my desk while I teach the kids their lessons. It can be found in the backyard tending my garden and chickens in my little homestead. It can also be found with a pretty hot man behind some locked doors in the house, if you know what I mean (and I think you do…).
So, I am not a Pinterest woman, and I’ve got a Mom Butt…and I’m okay with that!
You can’t crash fancy hotels looking for elusive craft beer spots in hot pants, my friend.