Warning: Having kids will kill your self-esteem

Oooh, aren't they sweet! Yeah, 'till they tear ya down, mama.

For any expectant parents out there, disclaimer: please do not continue reading this if you’d like to continue on in your dreamy, nursery-painting, bib-folding, bootie-cooing state of blissful expectation.

Your world is about to get rocked.

Now before the hate emails start flooding in I’m not proposing we stop having children, for goodness sakes who is going to cater to me and listen to me blabbering on in my golden years? These six little built-in ears will be primed and ready for me telling ‘em about the “good ol’ days” in my rocking chair (read: at the club, dancing in inappropriate hot pants). Who will shower me for the years of care and upbringing with Hummels and teacups and stuff that grandmothers dig? (kids, just bring booze, okay? Collecting and dusting really isn’t my thing).

But back to my point. Before having kids, I fancied myself a rather fun, not-horrible-looking, fairly normal chick. These days, according to my offspring, I may be something else altogether. Examples:

1) I have a golden tooth. Being the graceful soul that I am, my face met with asphalt while roller-skating in the neighborhood as a kid, resulting in a front-tooth cap that has never quite matched the other teeth, even after three attempts at recapping the damn thing. In the sunlight, it looks really funky, and the kids often say “mama, what’s up with your golden tooth?”

2) My belly is rather, um, poochy. So much so that my four-year-old has endearingly named it “Sasha” and frequently asks if she can play with Sasha, usually when we’re in a public place and it’s really, really quiet.

3) Freckles have overtaken my body. The kids will often say “so what is UP with all those splotchy things all over your arms, mama?” Again, usually in a public place and often when there’s an attractive gentleman nearby to overhear.

See those crow's feet? Yep, they mentioned those, too. Hayes & Fisk was kind enough to whiten up my "golden tooth."

4) I am regrettably old-school. When my eldest wanted me to download Michael Jackson on iTunes for him and I excitedly shared that I had that very same album–Thriller–on cassette tape, he sort of patted me on the head with a sympathetic look.

5) My wallet is critically, perpetually inept for their evolving monetary needs. Frequently they’ll be all like “mama, WHY can’t we have that, I mean you can just go to the ATM, for real there is always more money if you just stick your ATM card in there! All the other kids go on cruises, have unlimited shopping sprees at Target, and have a cook, maid, and chauffeur, why don’t we?”

6) “You need a new car!” is the daily chant I hear when they climb in the backseat of my dented-up, grimy-ol’ Volvo-sexy-mamawagon, “this one is too DIRTY!”

Gee, kids, if you didn’t shove all the wrappers and extra fries from the golden arches and stick your 1,342 Happy Meal toys in every available crevass, you’d be riding in a freaking Rolls Royce. Oh, and thanks for the yellow highlighter on the right rear door, it’s darling!

I could go on and on, but I gotta run. . . therapy appointment. Cheers!