Four days to go. And as the moments tick by–my bladder capacity shrinking, my swollen breasts setting records, my appetite insatiable, my memories of last summer’s gold & white striped bikini more and more distant–I notice that I’m turned on by a completely different set of visual cues.
Husband searing center-cut pork loin chops, smothering them in a prune, cognac reduction sauce, serving me dinner on the couch (doing the dishes afterward)–HOT.
Aging moguls of the West Village, exiting their town cars in $500 t-shirts, sauntering into the Waverly Inn–NOT.
Husband folding two dozen pink blankets, neatly stacking them on the changing table–HOT.
Big wrist watches on big men–NOT.
Baby girl’s tiny, hand-crocheted red mary janes next to Daddy’s chef’s clogs–HOT.
You get my point.
So, just in time for this love fest of all things domestic, estrogen and womb-focused, my mother sends me the most fabulous little book–Porn For New Moms. Alongside pictures of obscenely good-looking models holding cooing babies, there are pull quotes that are music to any new mother’s ears. A sampling:
“Look, if you don’t want to go back to work, let’s just tap into my family’s trust fund to pay for daycare. Didn’t I ever tell you about that?”
“Every time I see a cute, young co-ed these days, all I can think is, ‘potential babysitter.’”
“Sure your girlfriends can drop their babies off here while you girls go to the bar. The more the merrier.”
*(My personal favorite) “No, no! Sit down! I’ll do the dishes. After nine and half months of pregnancy, 26 hours of labor and 18 stitches, you don’t have to do a damn thing around here!”
You read it here–Perfect. Shower. Gift.
And good thing Jamie is as sweet and good-looking as any of the models featured in the book. Maybe, just maybe, he’ll get me through 12+ hours of labor (the average for first-time mothers).