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My ‘Octomom’ assumptions have been proven untrue. Yet, I still want to smack her

Pam Stone
Pam Stone

Coming across an article featuring Nadya Suleman, the renowned “Octomom” who was roundly criticized for becoming pregnant with octuplets when she already had 6 other children, I was taken aback to see that her octuplets are now 10 years old.



Doesn’t time fly? Especially as you get older, when time stops flying commercial and takes up residence on a spinning jenny (and if you don’t know what that is, you’ve been in the city too long) as the days all seem to blur together.



At any rate, viewing a photo of her eight children the first thing I thought was what a relief it must be that they are all beautiful. Yes, I’m well aware that is a terribly superficial thing to say and it should make no difference what they look like, because they would still be just as loved and cherished and special, but people, seriously: imagine having eight matching children that all look like the kid in “Deliverance,” you know? These children could all easily fall in with the Jolie-Pitt clan and not look out of place.



And then I noticed that, including Mom and the other six children she has, a stunning number of 15 people live in a three-bedroom house and while in the early days she was reliant upon government assistance, things seem to have improved for her family. The woman who was once busted for welfare fraud and exploited her notoriety by dabbling in the adult entertainment industry to make a buck has somehow in the last decade earned her bachelor’s degree in child development and now works as a counselor.



Not only is she quite respectful, but her children, at least in one televised interview appear rather well adjusted and cheerful, with each child having a “chore” assigned that they are responsible for: cooking, laundry, setting the table, doing dishes . . . and somehow, whether it be a surgeon’s magic wand or simply the result of the vegan lifestyle they all live, but Nadya, at 43, looks like a million bucks. She’s slim, trim, with no sign of a “mummy tummy.”



I guess it just goes to show that one can’t judge a book by its cover (unless it’s my book, which features a rather lovely cover appropriate to its contents, and, of course, the Bible — though not necessarily in that order). I’m really happy for Octomom. In fact, I’m rather proud of her. Everyone, including myself, was so smugly critical of her, gobsmacked by what we felt was stupendous selfishness and attention seeking. But she’s proved us all wrong, isn’t that marvelous? And along with all this, I want to smack her for looking so incredibly good after having 14 kids. I’ve never looked as good as she does now, and I’ve never even had kids. And I don’t eat meat, either. Ain’t fair.



But I know what’s around the corner, Nadya, so my envy towards you will kindly retreat. In a mere six years your brood of eight will be 16 and you’ll be teaching them all to drive. At age 49. When the first hot flashes and hormonal rollercoasters begin making themselves known.



Enjoy it while you can, kid.

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