If I see one more woman who looks teeny tiny from the back and then turns around and turns out to be, like, 19 months pregnant, I’m going to scream. How are these pregnant women all looking so teeny, and I’m looking permanently four months along?

So, though I long for VelaShape treatments, I’ve decided to take less drastic (and less expensive) measures, and go get some more Spanx. I’m not going to lie to you — I’ve worn Spanx before — I’ve even blogged about it before. (and OK, some of this post is adapted from that one.) But I’ve decided, Spanx are not just for special occaisions. Spanx are for all the times I want to look firm and sucked in.

In other words. Spanx are for all the time.

Spanx, for the uninitiated, are the latest craze in shapewear for women — or as they used to be called, girdles. I’ve tried various “hold down the fort” underpinnings before, and while many of them worked, it was at a price. Most of them left me gasping for air and covered with angry red gashes. Spanx, are completely wearable. Mostly comfortable. (sometimes the waistband rolls down a little), and totally, completely unsexy. Word to the wise: If you’re ever wearing them on a date, stick a spare pair of sexy Hanky Panky thong underwear you can slip on if it looks like you might be gettin’ lucky.

But I don’t need sexy: I’ve been married for over ten years!! If my husband knows that sex is in the offing, I could be wearing a hair-shirt and knee socks and my husband would be all over me. Sexy shmexy. I just want to look good NOT naked.

When I got my first pair of Spanx I took them into my closet — or as I like to think of it, the testament to my enduring optimism: everything’s in there from a size six I haven’t fit into in years, to a dress I bought simply SURE I’d diet into it (two years ago) — Spanx in hand – or in pants, as the case may be – and tried on some of those old things I never thought I’d fit into. Well, clingy dresses hung smoothly over my stomach, skinny jeans didn’t strangle my thighs, I”m telling you – these things work!

But up until now, I’ve treated them the same way I do my wedding-China: stashed neatly in the closet, too hallowed for every day use. But there ain’t nothing sacred about my paunch. I’m turning Spanx into a daily habit. And I’m not going to feel guilty about it. I haven’t had a boob job, or a tummy tuck, no brow-lift, no Botox. (And as much as I’d like it, no Vela Shape.) I’m not going to quibble over a pair of underwear.

Because all I need, all I really need, is a good Spanx-ing.