So here we are, nearing the end of July, and what a disappointing summer it’s been so far! It started so well: In April I stocked up on sun cream, shorts and sun hats for The Boy and we spent days in the garden, at the beach, we had the fans on to keep the house reasonably cool and we slept with windows open and only sheets covering us. What happened?
I was talking to my best friend the other day and remembered that this time last year she came and stayed with us for a week ‘just in case’. According to my dates, my baby was due on 27th July, but according to the hospital measurements my due date was 2nd August, needless to say everyone was quite twitchy from mid-July onward whenever I had a twinge! Hence my best friend coming to stay.
The weather was boiling: I was in and out of the shower probably as often as I was going to the loo, which was pretty often! If I wasn’t going out I was wafting about the house in flip flops, pants and oversize thin cotton shirts, or my other favourite was a vast cotton maxi dress. I was getting through a box of Jubbly ice lollies every day and the freezer couldn’t keep up with my demands for ice for cold drinks, as well as clearing my local supermarket of fruit juices and flavoured water. My best friend and I made plans to go out every day, cancelled them every day as I was too hot to move, and we spent all our time in the back garden under the shade!
I’m not good with extreme weather. In the cold weather I get cold to the extreme if I don’t layer a ridiculous amount of clothes (we’re talking thermal underwear, knee high socks, vest tops under t-shirts under long sleeve tops under sweatshirts, the works) In the hot weather I overheat very easily: I sweat like a pig (excuse me, ladies most definitely do not simply glow) I get migraines, dizzy spells, and it’s only been in the last few years that I’ve managed to not pass out at all at the peak of the summer. My doctors very simple analogy of it was that I’m like a car with a broken radiator – I have no way of regulating my body temperature, for whatever reason best known to biology – and the pounding heat of last July combined with being so heavily pregnant was worrying. I knew I’d end up as a sweaty heap during labour regardless of the overall temperature anyway, so the fact that it was so hot worried me that something more could go wrong – I’d overheat and pass out during labour or something, or my body just wouldn’t be able to cope with it all and something terrible, like a fit during labour, could occur.
I was fortunate: A week before my due date according to the hospital, the weather cooled. The day I went into labour, five days overdue from the hospital date, was clear and bright but not overly hot, and by the time The Boy was delivered a summer storm was thundering across the evening sky, making the hospital windows shudder in their frames and bringing with it a welcome cool breeze (not that I benefited from that much, stuck in the stifling recovery room with my newborn and not an open window to be had in the whole hospital, though they did bring me a fan). Indeed the labour was just as hot and sweaty as I suspected it would be. Luckily I’d had the sense, before leaving for hospital, to have a shower, wash my hair and tie it back in a plait, but the staff were concerned at how hot I was during the final throws of labour and a couple of times they got me cold compresses for my forehead (which was a lovely thought, but when I’m in that kind of situation I’m a bit like a caged animal and you better have a damn good reason for touching me or I might just have your hand off!)
After The Boy and I arrived home following our stay in hospital, the weather was bright and warm but not too overbearing, which was nice as I’d been concerned about keeping a newborn baby the right temperature and if it had been too hot that might have been very difficult. Then summer gave way to autumn, winter was just round the corner and before I knew it I was pushing a pram through four inches of snow.
I was hoping, when April brought such lovely sunshine, that this summer might be a nice one. After all, The Boy is almost a year old, and fantasies of taking him to the beach, for ice creams, playing in the park and the garden, putting him in cute t-shirt and shorts outfits with sun hats, played through my mind. We’d go for day trips to the zoo, to the local water park, I’d take him swimming in the outdoor pool at the place where my parents own a holiday home and we’d enjoy the lovely sunshine together.
And yet here we are, late July, and it’s another grey, overcast day. It’s been that miserable recently that The Boy’s Grandma (The Hubby’s mum) has knitted The Boy a grey bobble hat (complete with ear flaps) for wearing out and about as when she looked after him the other week and they went out walking the dog she was concerned that his head and ears were too cold. I mean, come on, right? It’s July! It may not be hot enough for shorts and t-shirts but surely a child can get away without a full on woolly ensemble of bobble hat, mittens and a scarf? Apparently not! I’ve even got her a footmuff for the pushchair she has as the blanket she used the other week blew away in the strong wind! (Luckily she was with The Boy’s Grandad who went off and caught it, if she’d have been on her own with The Boy and her dog the blanket would have had to be allowed escape).
It’s The Boy’s birthday the first week of August, and I was hoping for lovely weather so that we might go for a picnic in the park with some of his friends; At the moment I’m considering going to the local indoor soft play place for children, as at least it won’t matter if it’s raining or cold! I shouldn’t have to consider this when the child has an August birthday! It should automatically be a given that his birthday will be bright, sunny and warm!
We were going to go out today, weather permitting, but between the weather being so rubbish and the fact that The Boy napped from til almost has taken most of our afternoon, so at the moment we’re both still in our PJ’s watching CBeebies and eating chocolate. It’s a bit of a winter lazy day activity but we’re happy enough with Waybuloo and Little Charlie Bear keeping us entertained. I do like to get The Boy out of the house as often as possible as I don’t want him to be one of those kids who spends their whole time indoors watching the goggle box, but some days it’s the right thing to do, and we’ve been out every day so far this week so I don’t think one day of PJ’s and telly is going to matter much.
We’re still awaiting delivery of our Bambino Mio products to test, which surprises me as the lady seemed certain that they’d arrive by today (we were out yesterday, but didn’t receive a card from the postman to say he’d tried to deliver anything) Knowing my luck they’ll arrive tomorrow morning (our Saturday postman turns up at 8.30, our weekday postie not til 10!) while we’re having a lie in!
Since The Hubby has been working all week this week, tomorrow morning we’re going to let The Boy get into bed with us for his morning bottle and we’ll watch a film – maybe Shrek or Shrek 2 (again!) or perhaps Finding Nemo (for the millionth time) I got The Witches the other day with Anjelica Houston, simply because it was reduced in Sainsbury’s to £3 and I loved the book as a kid, but I’m aware that at the moment it’s a little old for The Boy so I’ll have to wait before I can watch that with him and make out it’s more for his entertainment than mine! Cars seems to be a current favourite of The Boy’s, he’s into everything motor related right now which is lovely as I remember my brother being the same as a child. I’m hoping my mum will manage to get him the lovely ride-on car she’s seen for his birthday.
Well, I’d better be off, need to close the back door as it’s a bit too chilly in here for my liking with it open and I can hear the theme song for I Can Cook!