It is going to hit 100 here tomorrow. And has been in the 90s for days. I am (to put it lightly) so not a heat person. The whining around here has been almost unbearable (and I’m not talking about the kids). We did break down and get a few portable air conditioners so at least sleep is possible (and G can work in his tiny office without the computers bursting into flame). At least I am comfortable as I sit and watch our carbon footprint grow.
C is at a special arts camp this week which only runs from 9 – 12. We had visions of fabulous afternoon crafting together (well…I did. C said she likes this camp because she can spend “afternoons with me watching TV”. Which is odd as I never watch TV in the afternoon and hardly let her. Wishful thinking perhaps?) but the heat has meant that I spend most of the time trying not to move. The kids don’t seem as bothered, although they were both excited when I suggested a trip to Fred Meyer yesterday to search for a kiddie pool. No luck however—it is all fall and back to school stuff now.
Sunday we opted to skip the Bellevue Arts Festival (big crowds, uninterested kids, and heat? uh, no) and instead had a water fight and popsicles. This was our second water fight, using some sponge flowers made according to directions in Family Fun magazine (they are fulfilling my subscription to the much preferable Wondertime magazine). C loved making the flowers but doesn’t quite understand the water fight portion of the activity—she is too chicken to get close enough to actually hit me. Which is unfortunate, as the whole point is to get wet and cool off! M happily splashes in the water bucket (closely supervised of course). C gets quite wet and does a lot of squealing. I stood near a hanging plant with my (hidden) hands full of sponge flowers and told her to come over so I could show her something. C, being 5 3/4, fell for it of course and I doused her with water and sponges. She then proceeded to try to play the same trick on me about 20 times in a row, except she was never hiding her hands—would just run over with sponges and shout “I have something to show you” and then throw them at me (falling way short of course). The kid mind is an interesting phenomenon.
(In case you click to see these bigger…C applied her own sunscreen this day. It says it is non-whitening, but you be the judge).
The popsicles continue to generate the best faces from M.
I mean, I think she likes them…she certainly persists until the entire popsicle is gone. But you can’t really tell from the faces can you? And always gorgeous C enjoyed her popsicle as well (in addition to applying her own sunscreen she had also done full face clown makeup in the morning that she washed off on her own….let’s just say there was quite the bath this day).
Ah, my girls. Although I get a lot of people saying that M looks “just like me” I seem more of a resemblance with C. Except for the hair of course—no way did she get any curls from me.
Last Thursday I went to a “ladies night in” party in the neighborhood (G is always pushing me to get out and meet people). The ladies were for the most part slightly older than me (early – mid 40s). At the end of the party, a group of us was standing outside (about 10:30, so dark) and someone I hadn’t met walked up and actually thought I was the daughter of one of the other women. It was pretty awkward—I suppose more so for the woman who was around 43 and thought to be my mother. But then everyone felt the need to point out that I look “very young—15 or 17”. C’mon…seriously?? 15?? I look at these photos and see sun damage and wrinkles and gray hairs. Who wants to look 15?? I am (mostly) fine with being 35…but does that mean I need to start wearing real outfits, styling my hair, and applying makeup? Because if so…I guess 15 it is.