If this is what motherhood looks like, I'll consider it

I'm used to seeing pictures of new mothers - both famous and not - where my first instinct is to call up Dr. H and have him pencil me in for his first available tube-tying appointment, but yesterday, upon seeing what looked like a W magazine photo-shoot but was actually Melania Knauss Trump posing with her sweet baby Barron at the 16th Annual Bunny Hop at the FAO Schwartz located a Jimmy-Choo's-throw from their Trump Tower front door, I may be having a change of heart.

Nobody told me motherhood was perfect bronzer, Anastasia-quality eyebrow arches, a Michael Kors fur-trimmed trench-style cashmere-blend skirt-suit, Van Cleef and Arpels diamond studs the size of Starburst candies and leopard-print Manolo D'Orsays.

Nobody informed me a flat stomach, toned, tanned legs, wrinkle-free hands, tight thighs and shiny, sunkissed hair were part in parcel of the post-pregnancy deal.

As long as I continue to believe baby-rearing will always have the backdrop of an Oscar de la Renta scoop-neck, cap-sleeved floral summer dress, as long as I don't see any more pictures of this, this or dear God, this, the world might just have to brace itself one day for the trail of heartbreak, sass and SAT-vocabulary words that will surely be left in my mini-me's wake.

In the meantime, I'll just stare longingly at what a Trump-load of money can buy.

And no, I'm not referring to the couture clothes, the bi-weekly derma-abrased skin treatments or any of the other Upper West Side accouterments, I'm talking about her.