The skinny on my skinny.

I’m not trying to be immodest, but it didn’t take me very long to lose the “baby weight” I accumulated during my pregnancy. In fact, during the past five months or so, I have found myself thinner than I have been in years.


I know. I just lost half of my readership.

For those of you remaining, bear with me. We all have our crosses, and it just so happens that excessive weight is not one of mine.

Many people ask me how I stay slim. Frankly, I’ve been wondering the same thing myself recently. A huge part of it is genetics. But there are other lifestyle factors that come into play. In fact, when it comes down to it, it seems that I have suddenly begun living the weight-loss pointers you might find in a "Redbook" article.*

No time for exercise? The "Redbook" article might ask. Leave that car in the garage and take a walk!

I no longer go to the gym or otherwise get any formal exercise. However, I live in Manhattan. My husband and I do not own a car. I am home every day.  I walk everywhere. And it’s not only that I walk everywhere. I walk everywhere, pushing my 25 pound son in an 18 pound stroller with a 7 pound diaper bag hanging off of it.

My husband bought me a pedometer for Christmas. It was on my wish list. I love this thing. Apparently, on an average day, I walk about two and a quarter miles. There are many days when I walk close to four miles. Pushing 51 pounds.

So there’s that. Is it realistic for people who live outside of major cities to walk to the store for milk and bananas? I doubt it. It would take too damn long, and likely would require a trek on major highways. But me? I do it, "Redbook." I’m living the “Oh my God it’s pouring rain, the store is ¾ of a mile away and I have one diaper left” dream.

Boss on your case? Try to cut back on stress where you can!

My job is to be the full-time caretaker of Acey. This job is not easy. It can be exhausting, overwhelming, and at times, confusing. Acey’s recent interest in living room gymnastics has lead to countless bumps, bruises, and yesterday, a shiner. Four weeks of off-and-on baby diarrhea have left me with the ability to sniff that sour awfulness from three rooms away. The periodic skipped nap can trip me up and leave me unable to schedule a shower until 7pm. But none of this is really stressful in the way, say, a court-imposed deadline is, or a client who insists on micro-managing the drafting of a brief. Tiring? Yes. Challenging? Yes. Stressful? Well, not for me.

Tempted by a cocktail while watching that football game? Why not opt for seltzer instead?

If there is any area of my life that was decimated by pregnancy and motherhood, it’s my alcohol consumption. I remember looking forward to the end of pregnancy and breastfeeding and thinking then, then I’ll go out and really let loose with my husband and friends. Of course, it’s hard to do the math about hangovers and sleep deprivation before you become a parent. Alcohol consumption for me is limited to that place between “enough to relax that knot that popped when I had to carry Acey in the stroller down two flights of subway steps with no help” and “not enough to diminish my already-borderline-cantankerous demeanor in the morning, which begins promptly at 6:15 regardless of the day of the week.” Yeah. Pass the seltzer.

Cut back on snacks. Do you really need that candy bar at 2pm?

Candy what? I can’t eat anything in front of Acey without sharing it. Well, unless it’s broccoli. And I’m just not inclined to give a Milky Way Dark to a 14 month old. I can’t snack. There are days I don’t even get to eat lunch until 2pm. There is no time to troll and to be honest, no snacks available that aren’t pretty healthy. Yes, apparently we’re one of those households.**

Treating yourself to an indulgent meal? Schedule it earlier in the evening to give yourself time to digest before hitting the hay!

The husband and I do like to take advantage of New York restaurants when we can. Granted, opportunities to do so aren’t as plentiful as they used to be. We’re limited to babysitter availability and Acey’s body clock. The overlap between these two categories is embarrassingly large. Acey is in bed by 7. If we’re going out to eat as a family, we need to be all-butts-in-seats at 5:00 and diapered-butt-in-stroller by 6:00, or risk a fireworks show. If we get a sitter, sure, I want to eat at a more civilized hour. But I ate breakfast at 6:45 and lunch at noon! I’m hungry at 7, and ravenous at 8. And there’s the aforementioned early morning to consider.

Needless to say, the days of our 9:30 reservations seem to be in the past for now.

And as a result of all this? My baby weight is gone. As is my desire to wear anything on my feet other than Merrells and my capacity to entertain a phone call after 9 pm. Maybe I will subscribe to "Redbook." The articles are fairly accurate.



*I don’t think I’ve ever actually read "Redbook." Nor is it likely I ever will, since we already have more periodicals in my home than the waiting rooms of my dentist, GP, and pediatrician, combined.


**I wonder how long we will be one of those households without a lot of junky snacks. I’m guessing until Acey gets to the age where I can successfully bribe him?