After living in CO for 5 years, I think my heat tolerance is a little higher then the average northwesterner. In CO, we survived weeks of 100 plus temps without air conditioning–although the evenings were much cooler and easier going then the hot nights of late. I feel thankful, daily, that I am not in my third trimester nor do I have squalling, brand new, infant. In fact, the more I think about it, the happier I am that my kid is showing up in November…despite the hassle birthday parties will be for this kid (as a summer baby, my celebrations were always held outside).

The hood is strangely quiet, most likely due to the shock of high temperatures and the muffling of outside noise with our fans. A large bust went down last Friday where 15 high level gang members were rounded up along with all their weapons and drugs. This cheered me. Like sea turtles hatching from eggs, everyone in the south end seems to be flocking to the water. If you drive down Lake Washington Blvd, scores of cars line the various parking lots and streets as badly bikini clad women and shirtless men crowd the various shores. Inflatable rafts, smalls boats, and a handful of flustered geese fill the water. I noticed that all of the playgrounds are empty…

‘Baby Schlag’ or ‘Wolfgang’ as we alternately call him has rewarded me with a series of bizarre visuals: I can see him move beneath my skin. This occurs mostly when I lay on my back. My entire navel shifts briefly as a swimming foot splashes by or a fist juts out. Last Friday my husband felt him for the first time. (It’s true: My yoga teacher says this visual stimulation is largely for the partner’s benefit). I’ve experimented with poking my stomach to get a response, which works only occasionally. Usually Wolfgang will respond twice to my pokings before lying still, a swift kick in the nearby vicinity before growing bored with my antics. “He’s just like you,” I told Josh, “He refuses to perform on command…like when I try to get you to dance the Robot and you say, ‘not by request.’” As with all the latest and greatest perks of pregnancy my response to fetal movement was at first shock, awe, and now resignation. Sometimes Baby Schlag kicks so hard I interrupt my own sentence to exclaim, “Wow! Dang…”

Despite the 100 degree temps I still went to my prenatal yoga class last night. It turned into some sort of bizarre Bikram Yoga (or ‘Sweaty Yoga’) experience. Only four of us turned out and the teacher gave us wet towels to wrap around our necks. I removed my shirt and shamelessly practiced my asanas in a sports bra and shorts. It was nice to feel uninhibited around other pregnant ladies about my belly. Later that night I went to a ‘Welcome Back From Grad School in London” party for Rachel at a painfully hot bar. Our legs were sticking to the unbreathable vinyl seats and I quickly sucked down glass after glass of cold water. I became the star of the Pregnant Show a few times, entertaining the ladies with the secrets and humors of pregnancy. A celebrity in a totally different and remarkable way. One gal tried to compare the awe of pregnancy with the awe of performance and I quickly shut her down (not even comparable, honey). After escaping the bar, a handful of lady friends surrounded me and placed their hands on my belly. Underneath 3 pairs of hands, Wolfgang immediately responded and rewarded everyone with a series of artful flips and kicks…it was really nice.