The little man really digs a schedule, so this hybrid really works for him. He knows that one day I'm doing one, and the next day it will be the other. He loves schedules, plans, structure - but God forbid you change that plan without alerting him. So, therefore, GOD FORBID I miss a workout. "Mummy, you forgot to do your PiYo today! Mummy, why haven't you done your T25 yet?" The concept of a "rest day" has yet to sink in.
And the little miss is extremely observant. Way too observant. I typically workout in the kitchen, with my laptop on the kitchen table. She sits next to it, eating her breakfast. She will watch the screen, checking out the moves, and then look back at me with a very judgemental eye, evaluating my form. If I am not keeping my leg as high or my feet moving as quickly as the people on the video, she won't hesitate to point it out. "Mummy, that's not what they're doing."
With the boy keeping me on schedule and the girl monitoring my effort, I have my very own personal trainers. Or workout police. Or fitness Nazis. Po-tay-to, po-tah-to.