If You Can't Stand the Heat... A Step-By-Step Guide

The greater part of the province of Québec has been hit with a whopper of a heatwave, with temperatures climbing into the 40s if you factor in the humidity. How did we survive it?

Step 1: Install Air Conditioning
After suffering through one night of hot hot heat, Jon ventured under the stairs, pushed aside the elliptical machine, cooler and spare dresser and hauled out the old air conditioning unit we had back when we lived on the hot and noisy Plateau Mont-Royal. (Important note: It is never fun to install an air conditioner when the house is roasting. I love you, Jon.)

By the time bedtime rolled around, our bedroom was at a comfortable 24 degrees. However, Jon had not had the time to completely seal off the air conditioner. It wasn't long before a mammoth moth made its way into our lit bedroom. "Jon, we can't go to bed with that big gap in the window," I nagged said. Out came the super-expanding foam, and my nerves were relaxed enough for me to get some shut-eye.

While getting ready for bed on Night #2, I noticed a few small critters exploring the perimeter of the sealed-off window. I shrieked when I watched one bug make its way inside through a small opening. "Jon, we can't go to bed with that little gap in the window," I nagged said. Out came the removable window caulking and the window was sealed off a little more tightly. Blame it on the heat: my nerves were shot. I had nightmares of thousands of little earwigs making their way into our bedroom regardless.

Marshall has camped out with us in our room all week. While the bedroom is at a livable temperature, the AC unit isn't powerful enough to cool down the entire house. He sleeps no more than two hours in the playpen we set up in the room. After that, he's in between us in the big bed. Sure, babies are generally cute and cuddly, but there's nothing adorable about a sweaty, dehydrated cranky son grabbing at his mother like an inappropriate patron at a strip club at all hours of the night. Sigh. In no time, it will be winter.

Step 2: Find a Pool
Not only do we know people with swimming pools, but luckily, they like us. Our little family has taken a dip twice in our friend's parents' pool. There, we were able to lower our body temperatures to a reasonable level and partake in some excellent barbecued suppers. Jon, the non-breastfeeder, couldn't refuse a drink or two from the impressively stocked bar. What a treat!

Yesterday, my cousin invited me to her place for lunch and some pool time at her place on the South Shore. Ugh, cross three bridges and through heavy mid-week city traffic for a swim? I didn't hesitate to say yes. We had a great time eating hot lasagna in the cooled house with Kim and her two toddlers. And swimming with the gang was a hit! Marshall dipped his head in the water with the finesse of a drinking bird toy. Kim's youngest, covered in flotation devices, bobbed in the water like a pro. And her eldest boy was a champ at making big splashes when he jumped off the ladder into the pool. Watching the bigger boys kicking about in the water and messily consuming their Popsicles, I got a little glimpse of the years to come that afternoon.

Of course, there's no better way to end a day of cooling ones body temperature in the pool than to hunt for ones missing car keys, only to find them lying on the back seat of the locked car. Ninety minutes later, the tow truck arrived and jimmied the lock. Marshall and I were on the road again and in thick rush-hour traffic. I didn't mind, really. The boy was napping in his shaded car seat, the AC was at full-blast, and Radio 2 Drive was tickling my ear drums. We were probably more comfortable in my little car than in our house, really. Vroom vroom.

Before invading anyone else's pool, we'll have to buy another pack of Little Swimmers diapers. We're all out. I am pretty sure that we'd be guaranteed blacklisted if our baby took a dump in someone's pool. Who knows how many heatwaves we'll get this summer? This is no time to make enemies!

Step 3: Visit Granny
My grandmother called me earlier today to see if I would be interested in having supper with her in her apartment in the fully air conditioned retirement complex. Would I? I packed up the baby and away we went. By the time we reached Granny's place, the car was finally cooled down.

We had a great time catching up on the latest news. Then she pulled out the photo album and we compared Marshall's mug to the baby pictures of my mom, aunt and uncle. Maybe all babies just look like alike, but I was able to see a bit of my kid in each black-and-white baby face. And then we sat down to the ultimate of suppers: hot dogs, coleslaw and vanilla ice cream with butterscotch drizzled on top. And, because my Granny said we were worth it, we uncorked a bottle of Beaujolais. Perfection.


And now, I am recapping our week of tolerating the heat in our stuffy living room. My laptop is uncomfortably hot, like a fat, sweaty lap dog. The leather couch isn't all that appealing under my short shorts. The weatherman swears the heatwave will finally break sometime tomorrow. I'll believe it when I hear the thunder clap.

Until then, I'll just keep listening to the drone of our little air conditioner.

Stay cool.