Fitness Friday: Week 6

Aight Ya'll.  Happy Fitness Friday!  It has been a CRAZY month of life, death, illness, teething, and toddlers, but LCL is here-alive and running 6 weeks into this ass kicking app! As I alluded to in this week's earlier post, I HATE THIS APP!  With that said, I am still going strong, and I am ADDICTED!  

I have discovered that I have a love / hate relationship with this new found workout regimen.  On one hand it's definitely challenging and I dread every workout at this point...on the other it makes me feel so great and accomplished at the end, and I get stressed / upset at the thought of not being able to do it.  My stamina is up, and while my weight is not necessarily clothes are fitting better and looser. 

One of the problems I am finding is that I am not sure whether to push myself harder or to listen to my body....but is my body (and mind for that matter) wimping out?  At this point I am at about a 46 minute workout 3 days a week.  My workout (at the moment) goes something like this:

Warm Up: 5 Min

Run: 4 min

Sprint : 30 seconds

Run: 3 min

Sprint: 15 seconds

Walk: 1 min

Repeat Run- Walk for remaining 30 minutes or so then....

Cool Down: 5 min

Does this sound hard or am I just out of shape?  At this point, my runs are somewhere between 4 and 4.2 mph depending on how tired I am, my sprints between 6 and 6.2 mps, and my walks at 2.5 mph.  Sometimes I speed walk my runs between 3.2 and 3.7 because I feel like I am going to puke or because I'm tired, but am I not pushing myself hard enough?  Should I be walking and running faster?  Sometimes I beat myself up for slowing down and then I try to be positive and think "at least you aren't stopping LCL"  What do you guys think?

I feel like those of you who are the workout fanatics that I somewhere deep down inside want to be are saying "you have to push yourself...that's the only way you will see results", while others of you who work out pretty often are saying "listen to your body, LCL..." and I am pretty sure those of you who are moms (and maybe some who aren't) are saying "YOU JUST HAD TWINS, GIVE YOURSELF A BREAK!"  Or is this just my internal monologue as I drag my ass onto that treadmill and day dream about the day that I can zip and button that young fabulous and broke jumper (gaaawwdddd...that sweet smell of victory).

Fitness Friday: Week 2


Happy Fitness Friday Ya’ll!  This week on the fitness front was H.A.R.D in just about every way.  My appetite was out of control, motivating was tough, and my body was (is) exhausted, but I persevered and got through my three days of cardio while managing to sneak in a 20 minute Pure Barre sesh to boot!

The “Running” App totally stepped up its game on me this week by shortening my walking intervals to 1:30, lengthening my running intervals to 2:00 on and off, and adding in sprint intervals of :15 for S&Gs. I’m EXHAUSTED, but overall I’m feeling stronger, more energized, and I’m sleeping reeaaalllyyyy well.  Running has definitely built my stamina, because Pure Barre exercises that would have KILLED me before don’t seem as difficult (I’m talking thigh work that will make you throw up and planks that will have you saying “no thanks…”), so while I’m not seeing huge results physically (and let’s be real…it’s been a week LCL…slow your roll), I know that this app is helping to tone and strengthen-so I need to take that as a positive.  The other positive that doesn’t reallllllyyy seem like one is that my belly is starting to look like rolled oat (if you weren’t hungry before….) as it flattens.  Uggghhh, what I wouldn’t give for my nice smooth pre-baby gut.  Those were the days.

As difficult as this week was, I have to tell myself to keep at it.  I have to remind myself that I birthed 3 kids in as many years and that I am retraining my body to be healthy and strong as I work to find my muscles that are buried somewhere in this oatmeal of an abyss that I call my body (JK body, I like totally lurve you)

Come on Running App!  Bring On Week 3 (annnnnnnnndddd cue Eye of the Tiger!)

Talk to you next week peeps!

License to Drive at 35

Do not adjust your screen, your eyes aren’t playing tricks on you…you are reading that headline correctly. LCL does not know how to drive.

 It’s been a long running joke among my closest friends for years (just about 20 of them to be exact) that La Chinois Latinois doesn’t and hasn’t known how to drive - EVER.  Growing up as one of the youngest of my group of friends, everyone had a license before me (….ok ok…waaaayyy before me), so I always tagged along, got a ride, or caught good old public transpo before it was cool in the bay (I’m suuuuuchhh a trend setter). My excellent navigational skills guaranteed me the shotgun spot in any car, and I was a sure thing when it came to keeping my friends company while they ran errands.  Life wasn’t so bad.

Learning to drive was never important to me…I like to walk, and I never minded waiting for the bus or BART train.  I got through high school, and college like this…did it suck?  Sometimes, but for the most part I enjoyed the quiet time, listening to my Walkman, which evolved into a discman, which evolved into an ipod, which evolved into my iphone (wow…I just made a commercial for apple). It was fine, I was never that kid that looked forward to getting their license, and before I knew it…I had moved to NYC where I didn’t need a license.  It was awesome!  I met people like me who had never driven a car in their life (some of you might be reading this) as I joined the NYC rat race. I was scot free from ever having to be behind the wheel of a car, and I didn’t care, until I started coming back to California for visits.

I would feel trapped during my visits.  I couldn’t just walk out of my front door and grab a coffee or get a train to meet friends (well, I could…but I would arrive tomorrow).  I felt, but as stuck as I felt, I realized that I was now terrified to learn how to drive.  My indifference towards getting my license as a teen had developed into a fear of driving in my twenties.  I was convinced that I would never learn to drive, but…hey…I lived in New York with a boyfriend / husband that could drive when we needed to rent a car… I was set! Right?

WRONG!  You want to know why?  Because a few years later we found out we were having twins, and then we decided to move, and then I thought “SH*T! I HAVE TO LEARN HOW TO DRIVE!”  Sweet mother of pearl!!!!! What was I going to do????  Not only did I have to learn how to drive, I had to learn how to drive a minivan with my children in it!!!!  All I could think was that I really shot myself in the foot here.  Why didn’t I learn to drive when I was a dumb, fearless teenager who believed I was invincible?!  Why am I learning how to drive when I am a neurotic mother of three???? Whose children’s lives flash before my eyes when they are eating things like pureed potatoes and cheerios! Now I am putting their lives in my hands when I am behind the wheel of a car?!  Not only that, but I totally bypassed the days when I COULD have had a cool car.  I went straight to soccer mom.  Nice work LCL. 

I decided once we moved, that I had to rip the Band-Aid off and get this driving business under control prontisimo. So my AARP ass has been going out driving with my family after dinner about 3 times a week.  Ya heard me?!  It’s me, my husband, our three kids, and sometimes the dog starting, stopping, backing up, signaling, and stalling (ha!) all over our neighborhood.  Surprisingly, I’m still married (I’m convinced that between everything we went through with the twins and my husband teaching me how to drive we can overcome any obstacle in life), and my son is a great cheerleader by saying things like “Don’t be nervous Mommy”.  I had a professional 2 hour lesson yesterday with a delightful woman who used to be a DMV test instructor, and who is going to hook me up with a practice test before I have to prove myself to those sloths at the DMV (Zootopia anyone??  That caricature is uncannily accurate).

At this point it’s comical that I have waited this long to get my license, but better late than never I say.  Hide ya kids and hide ya wife, La Chinois Latinois is hitting the open road!  God help us all.  Wish me luck!


Hot Summer Salsa (and I’m not talking pico de gallo)

Hi guys!  Where do I even start with this post?!  So much has happened since the days of my Mt. Sinai nursing entourage, that all I can say is…we’ll talk later, so stay tuned!  As some of you (probably all of you) know, after one heck of a long year of pregnancy, and two more kids later (ay jai jai!), my family and I decided to replant our roots back in northern California.  I’m sure that I will sprinkle some of this verbiage in throughout the next few posts of mine, but it’s crazy how challenging it is to adjust to being back in the place where you came from.  The place where you grew up, where you made so many childhood memories, the place that you used know inside and out. 

There were things about the bay area that I REAAAALLLLY used to miss when I lived in New York for 13 years. “Such as”, you ask?!  Well, let me tell you.  I used to miss the fact that it is pretty much eternally fall in the bay 365 days a year.  Don’t get me wrong, the days can heat up something saucy, but you wake up and go to bed under this beautiful blanket of fog.  It’s dark, it’s mysterious, it’s romantic, it’s COLD AF!  I discovered (or rediscovered) this after moving back a few months ago.  Here I was, accustomed to that NYC cement jungle heat that is soooo unforgiving on your thighs and your beautifully planned out silk outfit (only in those first days of summer, by August you are like “where my fall booties at????”).  Oh, how I long for those 80 degree days with 100% humidity that blanket the city on my way to work.  That heat that feels like it multiplies underground as we city rats scurry onto ice boxed, over-crowded, hell on earth subway cars, only to be dripped on by AC exhaust (gross and a half!), with 5 minute delays that our impatient asses think is 30.  “This is the heat that you miss?!” you ask?  And to this, I say “yaaaasssssss guuuurrrllllll, I am that cray.”

It was in such heat that I really discovered Latin music.  I know, I know, I’m half Mexican….but I never really got down with the Salsa, the merengue, and the cumbia music like I did during a New York summer.  I never blasted that shit out of my house like I was having a one woman party until I moved to New York.  Here’s a fun fact about me.  When that thermometer reads around 74 degrees or above, I am ALL IN!  I’m talking Hector Lavoe, Celia Cruz, Tico Y Javi, Gypsy Kings, Selena (or SELENAS!), Don Omar, Romeo Santos, Pitbull, y mas.  I don’t know what it is, there is something about the music and the heat that makes me feel so excited and alive.  There is something about the combination that makes me reminisce about those NYC summer nights that I have never known.  Like I grew up watching Juaquin playing stick ball in the street right before he drank water from a broken fire hydrant, knowing damn well my ass was on a swing in a really clean pseudo- suburban park.  When it came to NYC summers, I would wake up to this music, put a little dance in every step as I walked to work listening to this music, and host a private dance party por moi as I cooked dinner to this music.  It was the BEST.

Since moving back I have tried listening to my NYC summer soundtrack a.k.a my hot summer salsa jams, and it’s not the same as I sit there with my scarf, sweater and pure barre socks (I wear them around the house like slippers because they are thick) waiting of the fog to lift, but I am determined to keep this part of me that I discovered in NYC alive despite the freezing ass mornings and evenings.  So come on Hector- give me something I can dance to!  Hasta la proxima vez.  Besos

Bed Rest Babble: A Fine Cast of Characters

Today marks my one month residency within the four walls of this wonderful medical establishment, and in that time I have gotten to know a few of the doctors, nurses, nursing attendants, and select members of the cleaning staff.  These people make up an entertaining menagerie of characters.  I have different interactions with each of them as they rotate in and out of my room on a daily basis, always with a smile on their face, always with some form of story or knowledge to share.  I either welcome or dread these interactions, depending on the day, the mood that I am in, or the amount of sleep that I got the night before.  Regardless, I am thankful to each and every one of these people for caring for me, making sure that I am OK mentally and physically, and always doing this with a cheerful disposition, even when I am in a salty ass mood (well most of them). 

As I sit here slowly losing my mind daily, I sometimes wonder how entertaining some of these characters and even this whole scenario might be as a play.  Here are a few principal character descriptions…

Cecil:  Cecil is my weekday cleaning lady, and is one of my faaaavveeesss.  She’s a West Indian woman who is probably in her 60’s.  Cecil believes that the lord will guide her in whatever she does in life, even if that means scrubbing my toilet.  She loves talking to me about how tired she is, how children these days don’t know how to behave, and of course how the lord knows what’s right for me and my babies.  She will say things like “when the time comes, you’ll know, because the lord will tell you” in her beautiful Caribbean accent.  She hums as she works. The song is always the same.  She is one of the brightest points of my day, and has become a consistent element of my life that seems incredibly inconsistent right now.  

Xu-Zhen: Xu is one of my day nurses.  She’s a 4 foot nothing Chinese woman who had a set of twin boys 16 years ago and gained a whopping 90 pounds on her teeny tiny frame.  When I first met Xu, I made the colossal mistake of telling her that I spoke a bit of Mandarin, which made her decide (like every other Chinese person) to start rattling off in Mandarin at lightning speed (which to her seemed slow).  I could only respond by saying “Dui bu chi, wo bu dong” which means “sorry, I don’t understand”.  Ever since then we speak English. 

Xu is one of my regular nurses; I think that I actually have her the most.  She was a doctor back in China, so she shares her medical and experiential knowledge of twins with me.  We have a great relationship.  She tells others to back off of poking around my room when I need a nap, refers me to good Chinese places in the neighborhood for delivery, gives me advice on life with twins, yells at me when I’m not wearing my slippers, and always makes sure that I am taking care of myself. 

Sol: Sol is my chatty mcchatterton of a night nurse.  I think that she believes that we have a special bond because she is Pinay (Filipina) and I look like I could be (although she sometimes says that I’m not dark enough).  Sol will talk to you about ANYTHING.  She once had a 45 minute conversation at me about her Christmas decorations and how she changes the theme every year, which in all honesty I will take over the conversation about her having S.E.X with her husband when her parents are in town.  Yeah, you read that right.  All I could think was “EARMUFFS!!! THIS IS NOT HAPPENING”.  She ends almost every statement with “Oh My God” and this squealy little laugh that reveals her teeth behind her fusia lipstick.

A conversation with Sol can go something like this “Did you hear about that powerball winner?  Oh my god (squealy laugh), I can’t believe it all that money and what is he going to do with it? oh my god (squealy laugh), I tell my husband, if I win that money I am getting a huge house with cleaning people and my daughter will live there forever with her husband but first we have to find her a husband, oh my god (squealy laugh) my daughter is hot you know they say that Filipinas are the most beautiful, oh my god (squealy laugh)….. (Run on sentence intended)

I used to pretend I was falling asleep when she was talking to me.  I have now resorted to resting bitch face and pretending I am in a perpetual bad mood, which could be legitimately brought on my Sol’s arrival.

Ms. Dunbar: Ms. Dunbar is my Jamaican fraulein.  In all embarrassing honesty, she could be from Trinidad for all I know…but I think that her accent is Jamaican.  I am terrified of this woman who is one of my night nurses.  I would guess that she is in her 50’s, but her skin is as tight as a 25 year old’s.  She is…really quiet.  She will come into my room and say nothing but, “I’m going to check your babies’ heart rate” while snapping her gum between her teeth and say nothing else for 10 minutes, finally breaking the silence by exiting the room in her orthopedic oxfords and knee length skirts.

Up until yesterday she wore her hair pulled back in braids in a half halo around her head.  Now she’s sporting a funkier look that I complimented her on and actually got a smile!  I almost fainted….I thought “dost mine eyes deceive me?????  Did I just get a girlish smile from Ms. Dubar????”  Keep in mind that   I had my best manners on when I complimented her…Where I would have usually said “I am feeling that hairstyle Ms. Dunbar!”  I said “Ms. Dunbar, did you change your hairstyle?  It looks really nice”  fully prepared for no response from her at all. 

Ms. Dunbar is a mystery to me.  I have no idea what her story is, unlike with my other nurses where I have at least a bit of insight  into their lives.  She is the only nurse that I address by her last name ( I have no idea what her first name is….although I guess I could look on her name tag) and even though I am terrified of her, I respect her immensely.  I liken her to one of those really hard teachers in school that you kind of hated, but respected because they made you learn.  I have made it a goal of mine to get something out of this woman, but as Cecil would say…”when the lord is ready for Ms. Dunbar to talk to me, she will talk to me”  Until then, I’ll hold onto that girlish smile and wait for the piece of my play to unravel. 

Bed Rest Babble: Keeping Myself Sane

Hi Friends!

I know that it's been ages since you have heard from me, so those of you who are tuning in...thanks for taking the time to check out the latest from LCL!  

I know that I left you all with that Twinkel of a cliff hanger at the end of my last post, to which I had every intention of following up.  I wanted to take you along on my journey, hook you up with the comical play by plays of a woman who is prego with a twofer, give you intel straight from the "THIS IS SO DIFFERENT FROM BEING PREGNANT WITH A SINGLETON" source, and of course, complain about how hard it is to be pregnant while raising a toddler.  But then the reality of being pregnant with mono/di twins happened-sending my husband, son and I on a 7 month roller coaster ride that still has us strapped in and gripping our seats with anticipation.

So much has happened in these past 7 months (and continues to), so to save your eyeballs and your time, I am going to attempt to give you the CliffsNotes version of our battle to have these babies.  The past 7 months can be compared to a variable rocky dirt path that kicks up dust at every turn, blurring our vision, leaving us confused, and feeling lost-making us unsure of what to do and where to go (sorry, I have been watching A LOT of Homeland).

The thing about mono/di twins is, doctors are still learning about these types of twins (I am in fact a participant in a study).  They are unsure about pretty much everything. So as a woman and a Mom who is looking for answers, this experience has been frustrating….because there are NEVER any answers.  There are days when I feel like a fascinating specimen as the doctors discuss my condition, or as they calmly attempt to give me the clearest possible answer they have, which is never clear. 

Besides the sheer exhaustion and gargantuaness I have become, the physical aspect of this pregnancy hasn’t been terrible.  Everyone tells me that I am carrying these chicas like they’re chicos (even if you’re lying…thanks gals!)  The emotional aspect however, has been awful to the point where I believe that my husband and I are numb. 

It all began in October when we found out that one of our girls was significantly smaller than the other, a condition that is (and still is) concerning, but not alarming.  This weight discrepancy grew into a condition called selective IUGR(intrauterine growth restriction) and potentially TTTS (Twin to Twin Transfusion Syndrome)where there’s sometimes a cause to intervene.  I am not going to get into everything that we went through (this post is already long enough), but in short…we were sent out to Philly to consult a specialist on whether or not we would need surgery on these tiny little nuggets, potentially having to save one or both of their lives.  The whole thing was beyond nerve wracking.

We didn’t end up needing the surgery (thank goodness), but over the following weeks other issues came up, leading me to where I am today.  Two and half weeks in on bed rest in the hospital until these little miracles of ours are born (I hope it’s not that long….but I am trying to be realistic).  I am trying my hardest to stay sane and keep myself sharp.  I feel like a Andy from Shawshank.  I am still working, doing jigsaw puzzles, coloring in my hipster coloring books ( I have never seen so many birds), and trying to tell myself that I will never get this kind of quiet time again for 18 ENJOY IT.  The nurses all know me, and treat me like I am on the “inside”, giving me tips on the ins and outs of patient life, what I can say “no” to, how to request special meals on the menu (although I think that the food service lady hates me), and they comfort me when I am having a bad day.

I miss my husband and son so bad that I try not to think about them most of the time, but on the days that they visit…my day is totally made.  I am exhausted, but in a good way.

I know that I’m not the only person who has ever gone through this, so please pardon my violin.  I just wanted to take advantage of the fact that I finally have the energy and mental space to share my story with you guys.

If you want to hear more about this pregnancy let me know!  I have loads more to share!




I had an interesting experience a few weeks back.  Some might call it spiritual, some might call it a heck of a coincidence, I call it a connection between two people existing in two different place-at the same moment in time.

I was on my way to the doctor, thinking about my son, thinking about other children we might have in the future...daydreaming really, when my friend who passed away suddenly popped into my head.  I thought to myself, what if our kids ask, "Mommy why isn't Uncle married?" one day (that is, if he doesn't remarry), and what I (we) would say.  Would we say, "He is married, Auntie just had to check-in to heaven a little early", or would we just straight up say, " Auntie passed away a long time ago".  

This question popped into my head for the simple reason that my husband doesn't believe in heaven, but I was raised Catholic (mas o menos) and I like / have to believe that there is something else out there to look forward to.  As I pondered this question, I looked to the right of me and saw this on the Subways train wall.

Crazy right?  It's like she was there the whole time, listening to me..and saying "no girl, you tell him I went to heaven."  I told my husband this story, and he said "wow, that's a crazy coincidence", all I could think was.."IT'S HER!"

P.S. I found out that we are have twins that same day.  #thanksauntie

Mommy Moment: Raising a Gentleman

Happy Saturday Peeps!

OMG..are you still there? Have I lost you???  Life has taken LCL by storm for the last two weeks (post to come), so I apologize for falling off of the face of the earth, but I am here now and I am ready gab!

As many of you mamas (and dadas) out there know, there are many different types of moments as a parent.  There are the moments where you are so in love with your littler person it hurts, there are the momenta where you are terrified that you are raising a total brat,,,which triggers the "what am I doing wrong" panic, there are moments that absolutely suck and what you wouldn't give to switch with that carefree 25 year old coworker who is going out to their shore house with 35 of their friends for a long weekend.  And then...there are those beautiful moments when you see that you are raising a good person.  These moments are priceless.

I have had a few of these moments with my son over the last few weeks, and I have to say that they not only made me so proud, but also...they made me very grateful for my husband, because in these moments I realized that my son is turning into a little thoughtful gentleman, which he is learning how to be mostly (I think) from his father. 

What were these moments?  WELL!! since you asked...There was one incident where I said " ouch" after I bumped into something, and before I knew it, my son said "mama, boo boo" and was off like a shot to the freezer to get me an ice pack, that he then proceeded to hold on my head to sooth me.  My boo boo was on my leg.

The second incident happened the other day while we were coloring.  He was sitting in one of his two toddler seats at a flipped over cardboard box that he was using a table, and I was getting ready to sit on the floor to color another box, when I said "mamas going to sit on the floor because she doesn't have a seat", to which my son replied "mama sit" and immediately got up to get his other toddler chair for me to sit on.  I almost started crying.

Despite that fact that I felt like an elephant on a bar stool in this chair, I was absolutely elated with my son.  Now, maybe I am tooting his horn (or mine?) too much, but I sat there thinking about how this 2 year old (this "terrible" two year old) has shown more thoughtfulness and generosity  than some adults I have met in my life.  It was truly beautiful as I thought to myself " We are doing something right".



Finding a Better Space: Day 5

Happy Saturday Friends!

Technically I am 6 days into my meditation challenge, but skipped my actual day 4 as I just couldn't seem to find the time (which in all honesty is the hardest part of this whole meditation mania that I am in.)

5 days of actual mediation in and I am feeling really good! I have been doing it first thing in the morning as the program suggests, which can be a bit stressful with a child.  I have to make sure that I wake up before my little man which kind of sucks, because mama loves her some sleep- but as of right now, I think that it's totally worth it.

The second day of this challenge was comical as I was SO stressed that I wasn't going to find the time to do it, which totally contradicts the whole purpose of this journey ( you guys should have shots for every time I use some hippie ass word...make a game out of it), but as I have learned- every day is different.  Some days it's easier for me to focus than others, sometimes I totally stop listening to the instructor, and every time so far I have noticed that I have enough stress in my jaw to interview for a job as a nut cracker.  This has been one of the most challenging things for me to quiet down in my body (shot).

I have also noticed that I am sleeping a little better, that my mind seems to be a bit clearer, and that I am able to somewhat go with the flow a little easier (and by a little I mean the tiniest bit...let's not get ahead of ourselves).  I look forward to my daily morning meditation, and found that when I missed my actual day 4, I was disappointed but not mad at myself like I might be with some other challenges, I thought "there is always tomorrow" (shot?)

5 days in and diggin' it so far!  Day 10 coming atcha in a few.

Namaste (shot)

Mommy Moment: Sleepy Swimmer

I like to brag about the fact that my mom had me in the water at the young age of 6 months...which in reality (as I recently found out),  was actually a year. So when I found out I was pregnant, I was committed to getting my little munchkin in the water asap.  I thought to myself " This is going to be some of our bonding time!  I am a strong swimmer, a total water baby. there is no better person to teach him...he is going to be JUST like me...this is going to great." 

So, I signed him up for baby and me classes as soon as I could.  He couldn't wait for bath time as a baby, so I thought that swim class would be a cake walk.  Unfortunately, the winter swim classes were cancelled due to the fact that I guess New Yorkers don't typically enroll their kids during the Winter months ( It's hella cold here ya'll) I waited.

Lo and behold, a year and half came and went, and then this Summer arrived.  AT LAST!  This was our time to make a splash!  This was our time to get in the pool together and learn how to swim!  My son was less than enthusiastic the first two classes ( as I heard is the norm...I know ya'll...I have to take a breath..this is the one thing I am NUTS about).  The third class, however...was unprecedented....

We get into the pool, like any other day..I had just bought him a wetsuit, because  this indoor pool is always freezing cold.  We do our little sing-a-long, we start splashing and kicking our feet, the instructor tells me that my son is sleeping....CUE THE RECORD SCRATCHING!

I had noticed that my son had closed his eyes while I was helping him kick his legs, but I thought that he was avoiding the splashing...not past out cold in the pool ( or so he wanted me to think!)

Let me preface the rest of this post by saying, my son can go all day without a nap ( although we usually try to avoid this) no tantrums, no problems.  Why he decided that falling asleep in the pool was a good idea? I will never know, but I will say he is very clever.

By this point, all of the other parents were staring at us ( oh gaawwwdddd the shame!), so we went off to the corner of the pool. There I held him for a little while as he fluttered his little eyelids open and shut.  I finally decided to cut this class short and start to get out of the pool, I figure " might as well cut our losses".  As I start to get out of the pool, he drops his feet, and is totally bright eyed and bushy tailed as says " GO GO!", to which I say" NOPE!  Back in the pool little guy"

His response?  Not kicking, not screaming, but eyes wide shut.  GOD HELP ME! All I could think was " what in the hell am I supposed to do???  Should we leave?  If we leave he wins..and he thinks that this is OK!  He's not really sleeping!!!!"

By this point, all of the other parents ( or so it seemed to me) were starting at us, looking at him with pouty faces, then looking at me and saying " he's really tired...poor guy", and all I could think was "POOR GUY MY ASS!! He's faking you guys!!!"  

Needless to say, my little man won.  We got out of the pool, he happily walked to the locker room, had his snack and he was happy as a clam.

Shortly after this incident, I called my mom to ask her if we ever tried anything like this, explaining what happened.  As any grandmother would..she thought that her brilliant little grandson was adorable, and proceeded to tell  me that she used to threaten to dunk my sister and I if we acted up in the pool.  This thought was incredibly tempting, except for the fact that if I EVER tried this today...those moms would call CPS on me faster than I could out of the pool.

This was a couple of lessons ago, and they have gotten a bit better..although I still get a few droopy eyes every now and then.


What would you guys do?