I always have grand plans to get up and go to the gym before Rockford leaves for work in the morning. I’ll give you one guess as to how that’s been going.

On those days when I don’t actually get to the gym (and by “those days” I mean “everyday”), I turn to toddlercising. Poppy loves to lead exercises, and she’s a pretty strict taskmaster. We do jumping jacks and sit-ups, and we march around the coffee table with our knees as high as we can get them. She’s also a big fan of the “crash game,” where I lay on my back and lift her into the air with my feet on her tummy and she counts to 20. And then she crashes down on me. I used to play it with my dad as “Airplane” when I was her age, but I guess we’re running a more dangerous household than the one in which I grew up.

It isn’t quite the workout I’d get if I went to the gym, but it’s better than nothing, right? At the very least, I’m not gaining any weight. So toddlercising. It works for me.