I just did the Whole 30. In case you have better things to do than pay attention to food crazes, the Whole 30 is a strict, 30-day version of the Paleo diet that promises to cure every single thing that ails you, from skin problems to weight to laziness to psychological issues you’ve been harboring since childhood.

And in case you’re still not sure what Paleo is but are afraid to ask, at this point, because it seems like something you should have clarified a year ago, Paleo is “the caveman diet.” This is shorthand for: no processed food, no dairy, no sugar, no alcohol, no legumes, no soy, and no grains (nope, not even exquisite artisanal ancient grains from the upper shelves at the Whole).

What you can eat: meat, vegetables, avocadoes, and nuts. And some fruit, but not if you are using fruit to replace sugar and the love you never got from your mom. If you’re leaning on fruit as an emotional refuge in lieu of actual sugar, it’s gotta go.

I’m not really a believer in fad diets, but I had to do something about, you know, the baby weight, and so I randomly l picked this method because I knew I could do it. I rarely eat processed food anyway, so cutting that out took zero effort. I like to take a break from sugar and white wine occasionally, just to prove to myself I can do it. And lots of meat? Sign me up! As long as it’s free-range, hormone-free, grass-fed, and organic, and it costs roughly as much as diamonds, pound for pound.

But, I have to say, I don’t feel any different now. I didn’t lose any weight. My sore elbow tendons didn’t magically stop hurting every time I pick up an enormous chunky baby. My skin didn’t auto-moisten itself. I didn’t have any epiphanies at all. Except, you know, that I have incredible willpower. Sometimes.

Here’s the crux of my weight issue and all my other feelings-based issues these days: I never get enough sleep. Because I have rambunctious 15-month old twins and I work fulltime. And I barely ever exercise (see last sentence).

There’s no magic bullet to fix this problem. There’s no cleanse or diet or detox. There’s just, time. And a willingness to start shopping at Eileen Fisher.

After all, I’m a mom now, not a depressed, low-functioning bachelorette with all the time in the world to hike for like two hours every day. I miss that girl. But, let’s be honest; she was kind of a whiner.