Hello from Camp Will-it-ever-get-warm-here AKA Camp Whines-about-the-weather-too-much.
I knew what I was signing up for when we moved to London, I did. But my body won't get on board with it. I'm waiting for the clouds to part, the sun to shine, the heat to tell us "get thee to the pool", but instead it gently nudges. Hey, girl, slip on that cardigan and mosy on over to the wading pool where it will be icy cold, but hey - your toddler doesn't really care. So that's how we found ourselves in the Hampstead wading pool this morning, Henry stripped down to just a diaper, running gleefully around in 65 degree weather wading his little piggies in cold water.
Was he happy about it? Yes, he was. Since Henry is Mark's child, and I merely carried him for 9 months, birthed him, and raised him to the current stage of his toddlerhood, Henry prefers to be in cooler weather with clouds. I'm sure of it. Mostly because every time we step out into the sun, I get this grimacy face. (see it?)
So, we are just carrying on. Keeping the sweaters out, donning our trousers instead of shorts and summer dresses, and telling myself - hey, maybe I'll never sweat again. I'll live a life of comfortable weather with no need to go to the pool or eat a drippy popsicle or any of those dull summer tricks. I'll never feel that blast of cool AC walking into a building from the humid 100 degree DC streets.
In the meantime every day of sun we have, we spend it all outside. Last Saturday we went to the Princess Diana memorial playground - Henry asked to go again today ("playground with sand? big ship?"). It was a beautiful day and when we came home, I tried to wipe the specks dirt off Henry's nose, and realized it wasn't dirt, it was a few brand new freckles! I died!