According to The Girlfriends' Guide to Pregnancy, any weight you carry one full year after your baby was born can no longer legitimately be excused as "baby weight" and must thereafter be classified as "fat." Since Peapod turns 16 months tomorrow, this applies to me.
Technically I am not carrying any "baby weight" since I weigh the same as I did when I got knocked up in the first place. However, before I can pat myself on the back and eat a box of Ding Dongs, I have to acknowledge that, though my weight is the same, I'm living in somebody else's body. Somebody with a very weird and unsightly bulge around the middle. Sure, it's common to have a bulge, but mine is up high around my mid-section, rather than down below my belly button, where it wouldn't be ideal, but at least it wouldn't be mutant.
I recently pointed out my "new" mid-section bulge to my mom to gauge her reaction. You know the picture is bleak when your very own mother hesitates, then says "yeah... that is kind of weird..." while backing ever so slightly toward the dressing room door.
After this incident, I decided to check in with my mid-section bulge, just to get the 411. The conversation went something like this:
SELF: Hey sooo, whattya still doing here?
MSB: I live here.
SELF: But we agreed on a 12 month lease.
MSB: I signed no such thing.
SELF: Umm... when do you think you'll be, you know, heading out?
MSB: As I mentioned, I live here. Can you pass the fries?
SELF: Sur... No! I'll do situps, you know. I can do, like, fifty situps.
MSB: Not in a row.
SELF: I have an elliptical trainer in the basement.
MSB: Yeah, I've seen it. It's really nice.
SELF: If you need a place to stay, our dog is looking pretty slim these days.
MSB: Do not mock me.
SELF: (Passing the fries) Well, I hear baby-doll tops are in again this spring.
And so the uphill battle continues...