Why won’t my son come out? Doesn’t he want to be squeezed and pushed in to a glaringly bright, stiflingly hot new world full of drivers on cell phones and oblivious smokers who think being outside negates the effects of their secondhand smoke? (Yeah, I’m talking about you ladies outside the Alamo Village last Friday night, who didn’t seem to realize that the ceiling fans were wafting your cigarette smoke directly towards my unborn child’s pristine lungs.)

Angry yoga??

In my previous post, I mentioned that someone had taken one of my props accidentally. (Namely, a bolster.) Oddly enough, my anger and annoyance over this discovery (Hey, I practice yoga, but I’m no saint. Especially when I’m nine months pregnant and it’s over 100 degrees outside.) helped me with the endurance exercises we do in class to simulate contractions and get us ready for labor. I think I’ve discovered a new branch to this ancient discipline!! Angry yoga! Who would have ever thought that anger might help with yoga?

Rain, rain, come this way

When I found out I was pregnant last November, I was prepared to endure the heat of June and the first half of July. I know what that’s usually like. It doesn’t really get bad on a consistent basis until the latter half of July and August, when the triple digit temps and humidity really kick in. Even in August, we don’t usually get triple digit temperatures everyday.

Of course, this year things are different. The temperatures jumped up in to the nineties for a few days in April. That’s when I started to get worried. When we started hitting triple digits in May, I just made up my mind to be positive and remember how lucky I am that the school year is over and I don’t have to go out in it that much.

However, June is rapidly coming to a close now, with the bulk of the days this month having reached the triple digits. Despite the fact that I grew up in Texas and am pretty tough when it comes to heat, I am getting fed up with it. Do you hear me, weather gods??? FED UP!!! We all need a break. If I knew how to do a rain dance, I would, but since I don’t, please, please, please just let it rain. Even a few days where the temperatures stayed in the nineties would be a lovely respite at this point.

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