“Hello, mommies!” Her voice was like a bell ringing. “Welcome to the first of six Motherhood Better Bootcamp video chats. Who’s ready to change their life?”
There it was. The dazzling Emily Walker smile. Two rows of perfect white teeth. We all cheered! Aubrey stirred a little in her bouncy seat from the noise but didn’t wake up.
“As you know, the Motherhood Better Bootcamp program is divided into six challenges. Every Monday, we’ll discuss the week’s challenge via video chat. Last week’s challenge was to reflect on the mom you’ve been versus the mom you want to be. The next five challenges are as follows. Week two, create a physical fitness regimen. Week three, find a hobby you truly love. Week four, put the spice back in your marriage. Week five, find your village of moms. And week six, turn your house into a home.
“Okay, does everyone have their copy of Motherhood Better with them?” Emily asked, holding up her book.
I did. So prepared. I felt like a Girl Scout. Minus the pants.
“This week’s challenge is to shake off the shackles of baby weight and find a fitness routine that works for you. Please open it up to the first chapter, ‘Your Mommy Body: Your Mommy Temple.’ Who’s ready to get in shape?”
The cheering was noticeably quieter this time, but everyone was still all smiles.
Emily lifted a transparent water bottle monogrammed in black calligraphy with her initials.
“If you follow me on Instagram, which I hope you do, you already know that every day I drink no less than seventy ounces of water infused with lemon, stevia and fresh-pressed ginger. I call it my ‘mommy tonic’ and it’s what helps me stay on top of my five kids and bustling business!”
Emily took a dramatic sip from the bottle.
“Yummy! The recipe is on the Motherhood Better online communication portal. By the way, don’t forget to check into the forums daily and let us know how you’re doing!”
I made a note to myself to buy a cute water bottle and make some mommy tonic. Hopefully it tasted something like a gin and tonic.
Emily put the bottle down. “Okay, this week, your challenge is to focus on your health by adopting a fitness routine that works for you. Every morning, I spend forty-five minutes with my personal trainer, Sven, and we...”
My mind wandered. Oh, we all knew about Sven. He was the Norwegian Hercules who graced Emily’s blog regularly, and always in some kind of graceful but intimidating yoga pose. Most of the time he donned only a pair of skintight elastic short shorts. The way his skin glistened in Emily’s photos, it looked like he’d been freshly oiled up for a body building competition. All of Emily’s followers were obsessed with him, and posts featuring her trainer always were flooded with comments.
Is he available for sessions out of state?
What are his rates?
I snapped myself back to reality.
“Sven and I prefer to exercise in nature and barefoot. It promotes a mind/body/Earth connection. Look, ladies, if I can get my body back after birthing five littles, so can you!” Emily continued. “Now, I’d like to hear from some of you. What are your personal body goals?”
A mom with long, wavy brown hair, a glittery tank top and expensive-looking sunglasses perched on her head spoke up. “Yeah, hi. I’m Kimmie from Los Angeles.” She popped her chewing gum. “My personal body goal is to lose the last one-and-a-half pounds of baby weight and complete the last abdominal skin laser treatments from my plastic surgeon. It’s painful, but I know I’m worth it.”
Emily smiled sweetly into her camera. “Those are all very good goals, Kimmie. Would anyone else like to share?”
Two more women shared their goals. Fiona, a mom with two dark brown braids that hit just past her armpits, said she wanted to start every day with yoga. A woman named Lillian with a short blond bob talked about joining some kind of stroller exercise club.
“These are all so fantastic,” Emily said, clapping her hands. “I just know this week will be a turning point. Remember, it’s not about being a size two, it’s about having the confidence of a size two.”
The call ended in a way that I couldn’t have ever imagined.
“Before we go, I’d like to introduce the group to our new member, Ashley Keller. She’s replacing Mellie.”
She said “Mellie” like the name tasted bitter in her mouth.
“We’re so excited to have you, Ashley! You do have a human child, right?” she asked, with a slightly annoyed giggle.
I was frozen with shock that Emily Walker was addressing me by name but managed to sputter out an embarrassed, “Yes.”
“Tell us a little about yourself, Ashley!”
“Um, my name is Ashley...”
Duh! She just said that! I could feel my face getting hot. I rubbed my sweaty palms on my shirt. “My daughter, Aubrey, is, um...”
My mind went blank. I couldn’t remember how old Aubrey was. Everyone was staring at me, Emily included. She has five kids and probably never forgets how old any of them are. How could she? She throws them massive fabulous birthday parties every year. If anything, her kids’ ages are marked in AmEx bills.
“She’s...less than a year old.”
Less than a year? A tiny bead of sweat formed around my temple. I brushed it away with my hand.
Emily smiled warmly. “Is she there with you?”
Emily Walker wants to meet my baby. The Emily Walker. I broke out in a dopey grin.
Of course! I jumped out of my seat and bent over to pick up Aubrey. It wasn’t until I heard the audible gasps that I realized I’d just mooned the entire group. Eleven people, including the woman I want to be when I grew up, had just seen my thonged, practically naked backside.
I ducked down immediately under the desk and out of frame. No. No, no, no, no. No. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening. Every last member of the group and Emily Walker—my mom crush, future bestie and mentor—did not just see the bottom back half of my birthday suit, including the Minnie Mouse tattoo I got when I was eighteen that only David and a handful of others know about.
No, no, no, no. I held a now-fussing Aubrey under the table for what felt like an eternity and tried to melt into the floor and wish my existence off of the planet.
“Ashley?” I heard Emily say through the speakers. “Are you there?” Behind her I could hear a muffled snicker.
I crawled back up to the chair with Aubrey.
“I’m... I’m sorry about that. I forgot I wasn’t...”
A booming, confident female voice cut me off, “I’m not wearing pants, either, Minnie Mouse,” said the brown-haired, burly mom who had earlier identified herself as Josie from Iowa.