I am dangerously close to turning into the kind of person who hates summer. It’s been so hot the last couple of days that I’m about to lose my mind. If I had more energy I’d do a rain dance or sacrifice a goat to the rain gods or something. One thing I know for sure, the next time I have a baby it’s going to be me, not Olof, who plans the arrival date. I never want to be nine months pregnant in the middle of summer again!