I stay in when it gets to the thirties, otherwise it starts to fry my brain and whatever smidgen of patience and capacity I have for listening to my children just dissipates in the hot sun. I start madly scrambling around looking for a way out and I start to panic.
Panic is what I almost did two weeks ago when it reached 35 degrees. I had promised the boys a trip to the Reptile Park if they sat quietly while I took pictures of the sourdough bakers for my deadline later that day. A promise is a promise. Even if I didn't know how hot it would be. Thick sunscreen and wide-brimmed hats did nothing to stop the panic from creeping in. But something else did.... Sprinklers. I scooped Kian out of the buggy, took my shoes off and told Luca we were going to get wet together. We ran in and out till we dripped. After a quick cuddle with a koala and a pat of the Galapagos tortoise, we were dry again. So we did it again. Kids joined us and parents thought I was a little crazy.
Water saved the day yesterday too, when my long-haired pair were starting to drive me loopy inside the house. I found some shade on the decking, filled their wading pool and gave them empty laundry bottles and straws. They played together for almost two hours, only coming in to ask for chalk to draw on the outside of the house. We kept Sydney wet and she took shelter in the shade of the trampoline. She was too hot and bothered to ask for a walk.
It was blissful for once, listening to running water and the sound of my children giggling without anyone tormenting Sydney and without Sydney nagging me to go out.
That is, until I discovered Kian bent one of my hydrangea flowers and Sydney lopped it off with her tail. Until Luca had a pee in the pool and Kian started to drink it by the bottle. Until Kian decided to feed all his chalk to Sydney. And until they decided to dig up the garden and pour mud all over Sydney's kennel and themselves... When it wasn't bath night.
It's like having three children out there sometimes. Except it's nothing like having three children.
I've found myself wondering lately what that would be like. Would it tip us over the edge or would it complete the picture?*
* I can wonder all I like. It's still very much a 'no, thank you' from my spearfisherman.