I ended 2011 lighter than I started it, and since I’m feeling especially benevolent after a week spent sobbing over the end credits of “It’s A Wonderful Life” and eating Rolos like I’m re-enacting that scene from “I Love Lucy” when Lucy and Ethel work the chocolate factory assembly line, I’ve decided to share with you, one time only, my diet secret.
Step One: On or around January 5th, have unprotected sex and conceive a child. Mine happened to be in wedlock, but yours can be out of it. I’m not here to judge.
Step Two: Stop drinking half a bottle of wine with dinner each night. Also stop drinking Diet Coke like it’s water from the fountain of youth. Continue to binge on thai food, ice cream and cheeseburgers, only this time like you really mean it.
Step Three: Gain 25-40 pounds, and celebrate each weight milestone with a gigantic sandwich (tell them if they hold the mayo you will cut a bitch).
Step Four: On or around September 24, deliver a baby, either out of your vagina or via C-section, whichever is safest for you. LOSE 7-9 POUNDS INSTANTLY!!! THE DIET IS WORKING!!!!!!!!!!!! STICK WITH IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Step Five: Deliver placenta (2 lbs), pee even though it burns (1/2 lb water weight)
Step Six: Weep intermittently for next six weeks (4 lbs), breastfeed baby for approximately 1800 times per day until he has giant Popeye forearms and at least three rolls on each thigh (15 lbs–at 500 calories an hour, breastfeeding will have you back to your fetal size within 12 months)
Step Seven: Carry Stay Puft baby on your body while you: walk around the park; go grocery shopping; climb stairs to your apartment; catch up on “Dexter.” When he cries, pick him up–GREAT bicep work!!!!
Step Eight: Now that you can drink again, have some Champagne and step on the scale to reveal that you now weigh less than you did before you got pregnant* (see Step One), even if your body is now 50% fat, 50% sofuckingexhausted.
Step Nine: Jiggle FUPA in celebration.
*Don’t-Hate-Me-Disclaimer: I know. I KNOW. I lost my baby weight in three months and you want me to fall in a pit of stale, jagged Luna bars. But I have a nice crop of postpartum acne and my baby only sleeps for three hours at a stretch, EVER, so it kind of evens out.
Barbizon Models. Me.