Alright. I give. UNCLE! You hear me, up there (shakes fist at sky)??
It's freaking no-messing-around hot. It's crab at your crabby baby hot. It's take 3 showers a day hot. It's put contacts in because your glasses are glued to your face with sweat hot. It's naked baby sweating matted down hair hot.
We went to the grocery store again today. I now hang out at the Fred Meyer. Come say hi if you're in the neighborhood. It's just me and Lucy and the half dozen old people who have set up camp on the benches inside the door. I do my best to look like I'm "shopping," but let's be honest here - who am I fooling? I let Lucy play with all the toys in the kids section. And then I pretended to look for juuuust the right greeting card for about 10 minutes while the child played with the CONGRATULATIONS! balloons (which she pronounces "mamool" - she sounds like a deaf speaker). (And I'm setting a terrible precedent - now every time I pop in for groceries Lucy's going to want to go find the toys and play with the balloons we are not going to purchase. SIGH.)
And then I bought a container of cool whip to make the Bubba his favorite cold dessert.
$1.19 + tax: the price to stay cool for one hour.
The fans are blowing hot air around the house very efficiently. It sure is nice to have that film of sweat evaporated by the equivalent of a hair dryer blowing in your face. So refreshing.
And today. Of. All. Days. Was it the teeth? Was it the heat? Was it, oh I don't know, something? Lucy decided that she wanted to sit and snuggle in my lap and rock. All. Day. Seriously? Any other day? Yes PLEASE! I love me a good cuddle! And there's really nothing better than smooching on a normally squirming-away baby who just smells so nice like baby and goodness. But TODAY? Oh, girl. Don't touch me.
I totally deserve some sort of award (The Sweaty Mom Award?) for rocking and loving on that baby in 98 degree heat.
I think my Twitter or Facebook status recently said something to the effect of OMGKILLMENOWI'MDYINGASLOWEXCRUCIATINGDEATHOFHEATEXHAUSTIONPLUSHEATSTROKEPLUSHELL! and my friend from Tuscon mentioned that it was 95 degrees there on a regular basis. To which I wanted to reply with no kindness whatsoever "Call me when your air conditioner breaks for two weeks. And so do the air conditioners of all the restaurants in your area. And those of the community centers where you can take your child to play. And the conveniently located branches of the library. Basically, call me when you have to actually LIVE in the 95 degree heat."
Ahem. (Sorry Kim. No pity here.)
I made dinner this morning at 8am when it was a nice refreshing 82 degrees. And starting right around 9am, there were no other reported instances resembling productivity. But we had food. So I'm calling today a success.