I’ve never really liked summer. The pollen, the heat and the theft of nighttime all contribute to making an uncomfortable few months.
At five thirty this morning it is bright sunshine. Cue one wakey baby. Mid-breastfeed I feel a familiar and unwelcome itch at the back of my throat. I spend the rest of the feed trying to distract myself so I won’t sneeze. The question of whether it is ‘hou’ or ‘ouh’ when spelling silhouette occupies a disproportionate amount of my attention. It doesn’t matter how you spell it, it just matters that I don’t sneeze.
It is now eight thirty and my tired, poorly Reindeer is breakfasted, changed and asleep again. We’re supposed to be making Father’s Day crafts at ten but I just can’t face waking him up. It isn’t fair to him.
Outside, another hot, bright and pollinated day is progressing and all I want is to hide somewhere cool, dark and safe from anything likely to cause a histamine response.
Usually I only have our wedding anniversary to look forward to in the summer. This year will be Reindeer’s first birthday too. Perhaps I will come to enjoy summer more when the celebration begins ☺