Body Heat

It's been a long, hot summer. For those of you who have never experienced a summer in the Deep South, let me describe it for you. On any given day the temps are in the upper 90s. Now, before all of you folks in the southwest get uppity and think your 110 temps are hotter, consider our humidity. In rain or shine here in the southland, humidity is always high and once you factor the humidity into the temperatures, it is not unusual for us to see the heat index in the 100s. Hot, sticky, and miserable. And no nice tradewinds like my friends in Hawai'i enjoy. No, we have the kind of heat that hits you like a brick wall when you walk outside. The kind of heat that literally makes it hard to breath. The kind of heat that makes your air conditioner run all day and still not cool things off.
It's hot. You get the point.
So, add to this searing heat a woman who is pregnant by 8 months and change. When we began announcing to folks last February that I was pregnant I heard - ad nauseum - how tough it would be to endure the summer. It got on my nerves. I grew up in the Alabama summer heat and I can deal with it. Plus, I've never been one to sweat (after all, we southern ladies don't sweat -- we glisten). Well, I am experiencing levels of heat and misery I never thought possible. This summer I am sweating...I wake up covered in sweat, I sweat when I get out of the shower, I sweat when I walk outside. I've also never been one to care for much ice in my drinks, usually preferring no ice at all. At this point there's not enough ice in the city of Montgomery to satisfy my needs. (How about those Icees that the Krystal is doing this summer? Tried one? A banana icee is a good thing for a hot, pregnant woman.)
I try to stay home in the cool house as much as possible, but when there are errands to run I have no choice. So, I load up the kids and we hit the hot streets. One day last week Hugh, Grant, Eli and I were out enduring the heat to get some things done for the family. At some point Eli decided to pee through his diaper, through his outfit, onto the floor of the store we were in. So there I was down on all fours wiping up the mess wondering how it all came to this. And, being the usually unprepared mother I am, I didn't have another outfit to change Eli into - (thank goodness I had a fresh diaper!) So, in classic white trash form, I stripped Eli down to his new diaper and we pressed on with our errands. Can you picture it? The big, hot pregnant woman, two little boys in tow, toting a little naked baby wearing nothing but a diaper. (Do I hear someone humming If They Could See Me Now? Or perhaps the theme from Deliverance?) Then, just today I had to pop into the grocery to pick up a few items. As we were pushing our buggy to the car, I passed this man in the parking lot and we exchanged hellos. Then I proceeded to get Eli into the car, get him strapped in, get the groceries loaded, untie the balloon from the buggy that Walt the stockboy gave Eli, then push the buggy across the way to the return stall. As I was returning to my car I passed the exact same man I passed on the way in. We had to laugh. Yes, not only am I burning up hot, but I am slow as molasses.
So to all of my girlfriends out there still considering motherhood, let me encourage you on one point: No matter how alluring your man looks against the twinkle of the Christmas lights and the glow of the fireplace. No matter how giddy the eggnog makes you. No matter how caught up you are in the spirit of the season -- DON'T GET PREGNANT AT CHRISTMAS TIME!
And to all those women out there who have babies with September birthdays - Here's to YOU! And here's to never doing it again!!!