The 6.5 Pound Gain

Not my 6.5 pound gain. I don't think. Sorry to disappoint. Or mislead. Truth be told, I haven't stepped on a scale in a couple of weeks. Which is not my norm. Ever since Toddler was known to be brewing in my belly, I have made a point of weighing myself. I didn't want to go the surprise seventy pound pregnancy route and a daily check-in seemed to be the way to go. And it worked. I only gained twenty-five pounds with each babe. And I've kept up the habit of number-checking since.

Until recently.

Recently, I've been under enough pressure and stress. I don't need that extra oh-I-ate-soy-sauce-and-gained-two-pounds-in-five-minutes angst. So. I've forsaken the scale. Instead, I've opted for the clothing test. My skinny jeans? They fit fine. And, yes, they are stretchy, but that's legal. And lovely.

The truth? I've been riding this publication wave. And I want to enjoy it. I want to suck every ounce of this experience. And I don't want to be distracted by the ups and downs of a flat piece of technology that chills on my bathroom tile.

Denial, you say? Perhaps. I have been indulging. This weekend at my college reunion? I did not pass up that glass of wine for fear of the calories. I did not limit myself. And you know what? This is the way it should be. There are happy times in our lives, exquisitely beautiful times in our life, when we should just plunge in and go for it. Not play it safe. Not count. Not chide ourselves.

There are times to live.

I am friends with the author Emily Giffin. Yes, on Facebook. In the odd event that you are not familiar with Emily or her best-selling candy-colored novels, she is a bit of a phenom. And I have a bit of a soft spot for this chick because she too abandoned the sparkling legal world to write away her days and raise a family. Anyway. Emily's latest book Heart of the Matter is waiting for me on my bedside. And it is selling like hotcakes. And she is touring around this fine nation. As she should. And one of her recent updates on Facebook made me smile. Because, really, it reminded me that despite her commercial magic, she is a human being. Her words:

Official (almost over) book tour weigh-in. Four weeks=a whole lot of French fries and drinks=6.5 lbs! Up slightly from my 6 lb average book tour gain.

This woman, this writer? She has been on tour for almost a month and, per the bits I gather online, she has been doing late-night shots and scarfing room-service fries and she has a bit more of her to show for it. And? The fact that she is willing to shout this from the rooftops of her digital palace? It makes me like her. It does. Because I am sick and tired of people pretending like they are perfectly disciplined and sensible creatures. (Because, frankly, I am often one such pretender.) I am even more sick and tired of those who are actually not pretending. Those who never have that extra fry or fifteen.

So, Emily? Bravo. I plan to plow through your purple-wrapped prose soon. Once I get a minute to breathe. More than anything, I applaud your humor, your authenticity, your honesty.

It's not just your starry words that make you shine.

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• How often do you weigh yourself?
• Did you (or your wife) weigh yourself (herself) during your (her) pregnancies?
• Have there been very happy times in your life when you've indulged, and knowingly, and happily?
• Do you gain or lose weight at happy times? At sad times?
• Do you respect people who are honest about their very human tendencies?
• Have you read Emily Giffin's latest? Would you like to? I plan to zip through my copy and then send it on to one of you when I'm through. In the upper right corner of the title page I will inscribe my top-secret weight at the time of mailing :) Leave a comment on this post before 6am EST Friday, June 12th for a chance to win.