“Believe me, it will be privilege to pay for a steep bill versus listening to you gripe all summer long.”
I find it somewhat ironic that the depression rates skyrocket in the wintertime. Why? Because I am the complete opposite. I wouldn’t call it depression exactly but as soon as those temps start rising, my moody-barometer does as well.
Yesterday was a mind-numbing mind-melting 97 degrees. I wish I liked the hot weather, really I do. Growing up in Calgary, this was never an issue. Our house didn’t have air-conditioning. We didn’t need it. Summers were a moderate 70 degrees, which almost made up for those bone-chilling winters. Too bad summer only lasted two weeks. 
Since moving to the U.S., my body has been in heat-apeptic shock. People said I would adjust. I have not. I can’t walk in it, I can’t workout in it without my body breaking out into a big ol’ heat rash. I have to do all outdoor activities before 10 a.m. because it is just that bad.
When I was living in Utah before I had kids, it wasn’t a problem. I’d just head for higher ground or pull an air-conditioned quarantine.
But my little ones love to be outside and so I find myself half-nekked (in the most unflattering visual imaginable) pretending to be that enthusiastic mom who embraces summer. Of course, a solution is head to the pool but 1) I can’t manage both little ones by myself and 2) I really am not a water person and loathe getting my face wet.
Another solution would be to hide out in the shade in our backyard but guess what: our newly-planted tree emits approximately two square feet of shade. One of the glories of building a new home.
I even bought this snazzy new necklace. Because I am just that pathetic.
Don’t laugh. Once upon a time, I did a study abroad in Israel, Jordan and Egypt. In the summer. When it is HAWT. And I brought along a little portable fan. I was mocked and cajoled as the woosy Canuck. But that day when temperatures hit 127 degrees in Jericho? No one was laughing as they lined up behind me for a gasp of air.
So this summer? I’ll be one whining and complaining about the fiery-furnace that-is-the-outdoors whilst dousing my body with the hose (being careful to not get my face wet, of course).
And then sticking my head in the sand like an ostrich. Oh wait. Blast my aversion to sand as well….
I'm a Canadian-born mom of two, former Denver Post columnist, family travel writer, editor of MileHighMamas.com and 9News contributor. Expert on all things Utah, Denver, family and travel. Lover of laughter and life. Happily married to a man obsessed with growing The Great Pumpkin. 