Tuesday, September 10, 2013

Dear Fall, Where are you?!

Dear Fall,

Where the heck are you? Did you miss the memo that it is September and not supposed to be 100 degrees out?

I would like to be able to go outside without feeling like I stepped into a sauna or burning my hand when I try to open my car door.

You know those cute sweaters and boots that are in my closet? Yeah, I'd like to wear them again (we'll disregard the fact that the huge pregnant belly isn't exactly compatible with them).

I have about a gazillion recipes for pumpkin-spiced things that I would like to try out. Except right now there is basically nothing in the world that can convince me to turn on my oven and heat up my house a single degree more. And remember my love for pumpkin-spiced beverages? You are hurting the economy by staying away. It's too hot for me to even want to indulge in pumpkin ice cream.

And do you know how hard it is to try and shave your legs at 9 months pregnant? Really, if you would just hurry up and get here so I can cover up with some sweat pants that would be great.

At times, my toddler forgets that she knows how to walk or that it is possible to sit anywhere besides my lap. I love her and don't like having to tell her it is too hot to cuddle with Mommy. She also doesn't understand why Mommy doesn't want to go play on her super cool swing set. Have you ever tried to reason with a toddler? It's not pretty.

Finally, the whole waking up in the middle of the night feeling like I am going to die from the heat thing is getting old. I want to be able to sleep under the blankets instead of cursing my husband for the insane amount of body heat he produces.

So get your act together and give the eviction notice to summer. Tomorrow I'd love to wake up and see a forecast that isn't going to make me cry.

Signed,

Someone who is sick of rocking the sweaty and gross look


1 comment:

  1. Wait - you still shave your legs? Your husband is a lucky man. I gave that up before I even had a child.

    Also, don't forget to factor in that toddlers are, in and of themselves, little furnaces. Which makes cuddling on a 100-degree day less attractive than Chinese water torture. Or drinking bad beer.

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