Thanks to my little guy, Siler, I should have arms more ripped than Michelle Obama by spring. Of course, I also may need back surgery, too. I spend my days repeatedly lifting 27 lbs. of wiggly toddler weight. I officially have toddleritis, which I define as the exhaustion and aches and pains of keeping up with a toddler.

Siler’s constantly climbing on the kitchen table, which he seems to think is a jungle gym, or reorganizing my kitchen pantry and then crawling into the shelves. I’ve had to move so many items up to higher pantry shelves that I can hardly find a thing in there.

Just this week he’s dumped a cup of Goldfish on the dining room floor and Riverdanced on them, leaving me a pile of orange dust to clean up. He’s also taken the bathroom scrub brush and given the floor a good mop.

Whew! I had almost forgotten about how insanely busy this toddler stage is, and my twins were toddlers not that long ago. In fact, I laugh when I think back to my pregnancy with Siler. Mila and Eli were only 19 months old when I became pregnant with Siler.

How I managed to survive that time in my life is a divine miracle! When I slumped my big belly on top of that surgical table for a C-section nine months later, I was elated by the idea of an epidural. I think that was the first time I’d sat down for more than five minutes since my twins had been born. It was a mini-vacation (excluding that catheter ordeal which is a story for another day) having the hospital staff wait on my every need and bring meals to my bedside.

This time around, I’m trying to combat toddleritis with yoga, girls’ night out and date nights. As a mom of three little ones, the only assured rest time I have is to mark it on my calendar and leave the house.

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