An Open Letter to My Future Mom Self

If you own jeans like this, burn them. Now.

Dear Mom Version of Me,
As you might remember, back in 2010 Nick Cannon knocked up Mariah “I love butterflies and my cleavage” Carey….with twins. As you’ve probably tried so hard to forget, the musical duo decided to commemorate the occasion with nude pictures. (Check out the full story here...if you dare.) Yeah, sorry for reminding you.
Barely unable to keep down my breakfast after hearing this, I decided that for the sake of my unborn children I should make a list of every awkward and embarrassing idea that might seem rational when I’m a (HOT!) mom, but in reality will scar my child for eternity.
Please read this and be advised. Also, for the love of god, please be married, successful and over 30. Thank you.
1. Elastic waist pants. I understand the allure of pants without zippers; I own leggings for goodness sake. Once you reach mom status, it’s time to embrace a flattering fit with structure, because Tina Fey was serious when she talked about Mom Jeans. They’re really, really bad.
2. Minivans. Please don’t ever, EVER purchase a minivan. Besides the fact that they’re impossible to see over for other drivers, and look like giant marshmallows barreling down the highway, I cannot accept the fact that I will ever need to herd a group of children around in 4-row monstrosity. Let’s keep motherhood real in something easier to park, thank you very much.
3. Refusing to change the radio station when friends are in the car. As weird as it will be for me to accept the label that my beloved Taylor Swift and Pitbull will eventually gain the status as “oldies,” you must force yourself to listen to whatever music your kids will be blasting 24/7.
4. One word: coupons. If you ever lecture my child about the benefits of coupons outweighing the tedious time wasted in cutting those suckers out, you need to be put away. The grocery store is bad enough without making your (gorgeous) children wait by the cart while you argue over a 50 cent coupon for something equally as embarrassing, like Gas-X.
5. Once your child hits the age of 5, it’s time to stop demanding the public hug-and-kiss combo, before dropping them off at school. Because when you’re twelve and it’s still happening with your Mom, it sure as hell won’t be happening with anyone else. Until college. Or graduate school, most likely.
6. No matter how much you want to see what those kids are up to these days (I was young once; I know what goes on down there!), you will not “friend” your kids on Facebook. That is if you haven’t already deleted your account to protect your privacy and maintain any hope of employment.
7. Lunchbox notes also won’t make the cut. Okay, maybe once a month because they are super fun and a nice surprise, but really, you don’t want your child to be a social outcast just so you can remind them to “shine like the stars” at school every day.
8. You will vow to follow the advice of Stacy and Clinton, and put your mini-skirts and halter tops away after you join the ranks of motherhood. Equally embarrassing, or more so, than a frumpy mom is a MILF. It’s hard enough to get the attention of your teenage crush; you don’t need to distract him with his hot mom fantasies.
9. Crazy names are fine for celebrity children. They’ve got that whole ‘being set for life’ thing that comes with having a multimillionaire parent; your children will not have that. (Which reminds me – you are NOT Celine Dion. Get over it already.) You will not name your child after a fruit, vegetable, ancient Roman conqueror or pick two random words from the dictionary (Subjucate Table) and think you’ve done a good job.
10. Never will you ever take nude photos. I’ve come to accept that I will never resemble Heidi Klum or Demi Moore, the only ladies who can ever pull that move off. I can barely keep the lights on when it’s time to get down to business, so why would you, my future self, ever want anyone to see you naked ass once you’ve gained baby weight? Any Disney star will tell you, pictures are permanent.
Now hang this up on the fridge with that Corona magnet you nabbed on SB11 (ah, the glory days) so you don’t forget.
See you in at least ten years. Actually, make it fifteen.
College Alyssa
P.S. Is Rebecca Black still popular?

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