I should weigh 100 pounds. Seriously. Since becoming a full time grandma baby sitter, I have gone up and down the stairs more times than I can count. Sure there’s an app for that but I somehow doubt this is quite accurate:
I swear I did double what that says. Besides that, during a portion of those trips up and down, I was carrying twenty pounds of baby. That has to count for triple the amount of exercise.
The little man is determined to give me a workout. He waits for me to get downstairs , tosses every single pacifier out of the crib, and then pathetically cries until I go back up to get it for him.
Sometimes he hides them. This morning there were eight pacifiers up there. By the second nap, I could only find two. One day I’ll discover his secret hiding place but currently I refuse to make another trip upstairs. I’m way too close to my daily limit.