Mamma Don’t Do Heat…

I’m feckin Irish!

Jesus I can't take this much longer! We're four days into a heatwave and I already feel like I've been walking the Camino Way for two months. Is this even a heatwave? Or is this just what a ‘normal’ summer looks like? Whichever, it is driving me crazy!

That awesome weekend of fun in the sun has evaporated into the Monday mundane as I drag two hot, sticky girls through a hot, sticky day. The upstairs of our house has become some kind of sleepless hot yoga studio hell. The garden taunts me to step outside into the glorious sun, but I can't.

Yesterday, I stupidly got burnt whilst playing with my two girls, sitting on the edge of our super deluxe plastic paddling pool of the Lidl S/S16 collection (the one that fits two whole adults!) I even had togs on. In my garden. In June. In Ireland!

Well I paid the price for that folly as I tossed and turned in my hot yoga lobster agony all night. Today I've scuttled from shadow to shadow to avoid my skin actually igniting in the sun. My children stare at me as I strap them into their seats while whimpering in pain. My eldest helpfully tells me to put on suncream...

I don't know about you, but the older I get, the less I seem to be able to tolerate the heat!!

I went to Spain two years ago, pregnant, with a two year old, and I can safely say it was one of the sweatiest, most uncomfortable experiences of my life. And I'm including labor in that! I bloomed like Jabba the Hut at the poolside by day, and reclined as gracefully as a cow on it's back in bed by night, all whilst sweating profusely. Is there actually anything worse than groin sweats??

I remember those crazy, hazy days of summer when we were in our late teens, sunbathing in the garden all day, covered in baby oil for maximum burn, Hawaiian Tropic oil if you were dead posh. We squinted over Just Seventeen (only people in L.A. wore sunglasses) whilst planning our outfit for that night when we would drink two skinfuls of Malibu to quench our dehydration.

Then in our fabulous twenties going abroad to get pissed and fried pink for a week, coming home to wear white from head to toe for a month to show off the tan! Never knocked a feather out of me. But now. I just can't handle it!

In Ireland, if you want to know how a person is really doing, listen carefully to how they speak about the weather...

Well it’s looking cloudy out there now, and I’m feckin delighted!!

Jenny Cox writer for The M