I’ll admit it, I’ve always been a huge fan of New England Patriots quarterback, Tom Brady. It might be his wholesome good looks, his work in bringing three Lombardi trophies to my hometown, or because he shares the namesake of my favorite sitcom family. (“Here’s a story of a man named Brady.”)
As a loyal fan, I’ve always tried to stand behind “Tom Terrific” and his on-the-field decisions, even when my husband (also a fan) is unable to do so. “Come on, get up Brady, you Sally! You’re playing like Marcia Brady.”
I’ve also tried to support him in his personal decisions, including his marriage to supermodel Gisele Bundchen. For awhile there, I grew to like her (well as much as any crazed, imperfect stalker can when some skinny &^%# steals the man of her dreams). She really didn’t seem that bad. She’s family-oriented. Highly successful. And really seems to make him happy. Plus, she’s managed to do something a lot of celebrity female stars haven’t done – wear underwear in public while exiting a limousine.
But since she became pregnant with Brady’s child, Gisele has really started to get on my nerves. She makes me feel like a complete failure with the births of my two daughters.
Take the announcement of her pregnancy. It seemed like she was so thin that she wasn’t forced to announce her pregnancy until her 8th month, where I was forced to announce within 8 hours.
“I can’t hide it any longer, Mom and Dad. I’m pregnant.”
“Oh, that’s why your stomach is so bloated. I thought you ate too much turkey and stuffing.”
Gisele was seen wearing skinny jeans and didn’t even have to buy maternity clothes throughout her pregnancy. This is particularly annoying since my maternity clothes have been a part of my regular wardrobe since my baby was conceived (she’s now 11).
She boasted about how little weight she gained, which diminished one of my personal accomplishments – staying ¼ pound shy of the 200 lb. barrier.
“I did it Mike! I did it!”
“Ahhh! That’s great Gene. I’m really proud of you, but can you do me a favor and not jump up on me?”
She’s also talked about her insistence with natural child birth, and even gave birth at home in her tub. I, on the other hand, had an epidural after carefully weighing the benefits of medication with my doctor. “Please Doc, I’ll give you anything, even the kid. Just give me the drugs!”
And if all this wasn’t enough to upset me, today I opened the Boston Herald, only to see Gisele boasting that her beautiful son is now potty trained at just 6 months. Potty training at 6 months? It makes those of us who trained their children a little later (mine were both 10) feel like failures. In fact, I’m still working on training their 46-year-old father. “See Mike. This is how you close the lid.”
So Gisele, we’re happy that you have a perfect child, perfect body, and perfect life. But if you ever want to try parenting on the imperfect side, give me a call. We’ll start by burning those skinny jeans. You won’t be need those anymore.
