Last night we had cereal for dinner. It's that hot.
I started out with grand plans for a summery dinner, but after the few minutes of standing over the stove, dripping in sweat, miserably hot children whining to swim, sticky baby crying to be fed– I decided enough was enough.
It was the best decision I made all day.
Today, I write from my spot in the kitchen, the fan blowing directly onto my face. No oscillating. Just full-on breeze.
We're in a two-day stretch of heat advisories and record-breaking temps. I'm watcing the hourly forecast again. I just need to know how much longer I have to survive.
But this morning, despite the fact that the temperature inside the house is about the same as the temperature outside of the house, some work still had to be done.
Normally, I pretty much hustle through a lot of these tasks. But this morning, the chant in my head was to slow down. My motivation was to stay cool, but I noticed the slowing down also began to change my state of mind.
I'm often racing to accomplish the things that are just a part of my every day routine. As if there's something more or better or more important awaiting me. But most days, this is the better. This is the more. This is the more important.
I can't believe I'm uttering these words, but today, I'm kind of grateful for this heat wave. For the forced slowing down. For the reminder to relax the pace at which I move through my day. Because these tasks and routines and the people I do them for, are my something more.