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Having three kids has done a number on my body — and my life. From the giant elephant that used to be my vagina to the varicose vein that constantly gets snagged on the coffee table, there are countless parts of myself that I no longer recognize. Here are the top 10:

1. My Elephant

You might call yours a vagina, but I made the mistake of taking a hand mirror down there for some post-childbirth exploration, and all I saw was a giant, weary elephant looking back at me. Sometimes I have nightmares that he’s trying to eat me. On Mondays, I can hear him sighing in exhaustion.

2. My Legs

What I used to consider legs are now mountainous road maps that all seem to point to a nursing home. I snag my varicose vein on the coffee table multiple times a day. And don’t even get me started on the sexiness that oozes from my compression hose.

3. My Life After 10 P.M.

I used to be doing my first shot at 10 p.m. Now I feel like I’ve been shot at 10 p.m. Going to bed before midnight used to make me nervous that I was missing out on something. Now I start to twitch if I’m not in bed by 11 p.m. — because I know someone will be waking me up at midnight, 1, 2, 3, 4, and 5 a.m.

4. My Stomach

I really don’t know why it’s called a muffin top. Muffins are delicious and make me smile. But the dough ball that continues to rise over the top of my pants is not delicious. It does not make me smile. But it does keep me from being able to look down and see my varicose vein, so I guess that’s a good thing.

5. My Ride

One word: minivan. Or is that two words? Before kids, I would have had time to look that shit up, and I would have cared about getting it right.

6. My Dry-Shriveled Carrots

AKA, my breasts. After three years of breastfeeding, I got so talented that I could swing one behind my head and pass it around the minivan for anyone who needed a snack. I just asked that it be passed back before anyone got out of the car. (I do have some standards.) Now that my breastfeeding days are over, my breasts have been replaced by dried-out, shriveled-up baby carrots.

7. My Right Eye

Am I the only person on earth to have one eye become larger than the other post childbirth? I have WebMD’d this issue countless times, but there appears to be no known disease to diagnose myself with. All I know is that my face used to be somewhat symmetrical. After baby No. 3? Well, I don’t want to brag, but I have been invited to be the wild-eyed freak at the circus.

8. My Clothes

I was never all that put-together in the first place, but I did used to leave the house every morning to go to a place called work. I owned high heels and pants other than torn jeans and sweats. Now I just pray that no one near me dies because I’d have absolutely nothing to wear to a funeral.

9. My Perineum

I didn’t even know I had a perineum until it was destroyed by three vaginal births. And apparently, I have a short perineum which means that I tore from hole to hole during each childbirth, resulting in a giant vasshole. And giant vassholes produce a lot of sharts — trust me.

10. My Poop

I used to be on a very rigid schedule — 10 a.m. every single morning — just after my second cup of coffee and just before my morning snack. Post-children, this type of rigid schedule is laughable. And apparently my giant vasshole only feels like working when I’m out in public with all three kids.