Today I still have the stomach of a woman in her first, maybe second, trimester.
That is not the correlation I was hoping for.
But never fear. After spending an embarassing amount of time trolling the blogosphere and reading about EveryWoman's perky take on how to get in shape and get the old you BACK (assuming the old you that you're looking for is the 12-year-old you and not the 22-year-old you who looked like a woman in her third trimester after four years of
First, equipment. You're going to need a bed and some sheets. Everyone should have those. The key here, though, is to have invested in a ridiculous, and I mean a what-in-the-hell-was-I-thinking, mattress cover. I recommend one from a discount furniture store that is sold to you by a man who wears a suit to sell mattresses. Said mattress cover should ideally be gimmicky, in that it's thrown in to sweeten the pot as you wonder whether you can afford to spend $699 on a memory foam mattress. It should emit the faint smell of a nuclear disaster when you take it out of its plastic encasement at home. But the hallmark -- pay attention here, people -- is that it should have both a top AND a bottom, connected by fabric at one end and joined by zipper around the remaining 80% once you put it on the bed.
DISCLAIMER: I'm not a paid spokeswoman, but if you need one, this is something like what I'm talking about.
Second, have your toddler wet a bed. It can be your bed, her bed, it really doesn't matter. It just has to be a bed that has the aforementioned mattress cover on it. And if you don't have a potty-training toddler, you can (a) over-hydrate one of your older kids (don't worry, the emotional scars of bed-wetting will leave them eventually); (b) over-hydrate your husband (ditto); or (c) just take a cup full of water and dump it right out in a concentrated pour on the sheets.
Three, get in a good warm-up. We don't want you pulling anything. Simply take the comforter, your 46 throw pillows, your 7 regular-sized pillows, and all your sheets off the bed. Find the least-dusty area of your floor and throw that pile of linens there. You should feel a good burn in your shoulders and upper back, and maybe even your quads if you're really getting into the squat portion of this throw.
Now, Set One. Yup, it's time to take off that mattress cover. I know you don't want to. I know you just want to Febreze it and forget it. But you and I both know that's just going to end up in an embarassing rash for someone. So just do it.
Start with the zipper. Easy enough, right?
Next, peel back the top layer.
Now, I want you to do a deep squat, hoist up one corner of your mattress, rest it on your shoulder, and with a violent, downward thrust, I want you to try to peel back at least 0.134 inches of the lower portion of your mattress cover. The technique here is really key. You should feel like you're going to dislocate your shoulder, spleen, hip, or a combination of all three. After about 23 tugs, the bottom half of your mattress cover should be removed.
It's time to let out a good, gutteral yell that scares your infant. Bonus if the yell even scares you a little bit.
Find another corner of the mattress, switch shoulders, and continue the removal process.
You're in a good sweat now, am I right?
Haul off that mattress cover, find the soiled sheet, kick those puppies into the washing machine, and enjoy yourself a little break. Set One is done!
Finally, let's finish up this workout with a good Set Two. I hope you took some time to stretch, go to your chiropractor, and call your priest to prepare.
Because yes, you're right - it's time to put that mattress cover BACK ON.
I want you to pretend you're wrestling an alligator covered in vaseline who interned with Mary Lou Retton.
That's the only instruction I have for you. For the remaining steps, you're on your own, because I have no earthly idea how to get that thing back on. I just know you have to keep at it for 4-5 hours and eventually you'll have cajoled that cruel piece of poly-blended fabric back onto your godforsaken bed. And I also know that if everyone in your house isn't crying by the time you've finished, you haven't done it right and, I'm sorry to say, you will have to start again.
The good news is you'll sleep like a baby. And through all the sweat and tears, you'll have lost about 3 ounces of your body weight. Only 106 more bed changes to go and you'll be able to wear t-shirts without hip slimmers again!