Are You a Hot Mom?

The Today Show wasted five minutes of the world’s time asking the all important question: are you a hot mom. The segment featured some valley girl type who had written about book, considered the “guide to,” being a hot mom, and a hip hop fashion editor. They did some bashing of mommies who had the nerve to wear sweatpants, and talked about how moms had to step it up in terms of fashion in order to feel complete. Finally, the piece ended with the mandatory makeover of three moms, only one of which had a child over the age of two (her new look was ridiculous, by the way).

On one hand, I’m happy that our society has begun the cultural dialog of acknowledging that just because a women has children doesn’t mean she becomes asexual. However, I’m not at all comfortable with the idea that, as a mother, my sexuality is being defined by 20-something, single men. Ever since the movie American Pie brought the “MILF” (mom I’d like to fuck) concept into the social arena, it seems that us mommies are being told that raising kids, keeping a home, doing laundry, working a job, driving the carpool, maintaining a spousal relationship, and trying to find at least a half a minute to focus on ourselves, pales in comparison to us working on trying to be sexy.

Most of us do have our sexy moments, but they don’t usually coincide with grocery shopping or giving the toddler their nightly bath. One of the benefits to becoming a mother is figuring out that the world is about more than just the superficial. You give birth to a human being who you are responsible for, and whether you are religious or not, that’s pretty damn spiritual. The majority of the mothers I’ve met become deeper people when their children are born, so why do we constantly have other women telling us that the most important thing we can do for ourselves is enjoy an expensive spa makeover?

I would love to roll out of bed, and in the one hour that I have to shower, get dressed, get my toddler dressed, fix breakfast, pack my lunch, put on my makeup, dry my hair, feed the dog, and get out the door in time to get to work, look like a fashion plate, but it’s not happening. On the occasion that I go clothes shopping, I get fashionable items that look good on me. I workout regularly, keep a healthy diet, and moisturize consistently, but as a mommy I’m not willing to give up a day at the pool with my toddler, because I don’t look as good in a bathing suit as a non-mommy chicky in her early 20s.

This latest hot mom trend has women who have given birth trying to compete with women who haven’t, which doesn’t make sense. Those of us who have given birth know that with mommyhood comes stretch marks, droopy boobs, wider hips, late nights and tired days. Our bodies change, and so do our priorities. Those of us who are fortunate enough to have great partners know that they find us attractive despite the aforementioned laundry list of motherhood war wounds. In fact, as long as we’re not too tired at night to put out, they are happy overlooking the fact that we aren’t on the cover of the latest fashion magazines.

It’s sad to think that the cultural marketing spin doctors are advocating that moms should only feel sexy if they happen to be jerk-off fodder for the young teenage guys in the neighborhood. This may make for fabulous plots on Desperate Housewives, but if you think about it in terms of real life, it’s kind of creepy and unsettling. We might give a high-five to Demi for hooking that young Ashton, but personally I like someone who can hold a conversation that reaches beyond the topics of the late night menu at Taco Bell and the mastery levels of the latest X-Box game.

I am a hot mom, but not by the standards of the so-called gurus on The Today Show. Sometimes after a hard day’s work, I like settling into the old pair of sweats and a t-shirt. I may not be able to sport the latest fashions and keep up with my childfree, 20-something counterparts, but I have more depth than they do. Most of all, I have the one thing that makes any woman, no matter who she is or what she looks like, sexy: confidence. I know exactly how to please my man, and I do it quite well without the striptease dance lessons, uncomfortably trashy, stiletto heels, Botox injections, or unsolicited advice from a pretentious bitch with a book and a hip hop fashion editor.