Or maybe this weather Al Gore’s fault. I think just to be safe we should go ahead blame all dudes named Al and force them to fan us with giant palm leaves and spritz us with Evian. That’s getting off pretty easy if you ask me. What I COULD do is trap them in an unairconditioned house with a grumpy, rashy, non-napping baby who screams unless he is ON YOU at all times. Of course, to make them TRULY appreciate my pain they would need to be pregnant too. And now I have an image of an Al Roker-Al Gore love child suck in my head. Even air conditioning can’t help me now.

We’re currently headed into week three of what the weathermen like to call “unseasonable warmth” which is a bit of a misnomer as the only place you could call 95 degrees “seasonable” is the surface of the sun or the fourth circle of Hell.

(I’m watching the Today Show as I write this and they’re doing a story about Yellowstone, where it is cool and shady and pleasant. Jenna Bush is on my TV wearing a FLEECE JACKET. I don’t think I’ve ever hated a member of the Bush family more than I do right now.)

The real problem with this weather isn’t the actual temperature, it’s the duration. There are generally a few days every summer in late July or August where the humidity is out of control and the heat is unbearable and half the population runs off to Walmart to fist-fight for the last of the AC window units while the other half stands naked in front of box fans reminding themselves over and over that this too shall pass. When you know you’ve only got a couple weeks to go before Labor Day you can sweat through this kind of misery.

But it is JUNE, barely the start of summer in Connecticut, and I am one of the many many residents of the North East who have no air conditioning (or any hope of getting some – our windows are the wrong size, the house is too big and leaky to do much good, we can’t afford the unit OR the electricity). This is also barely the start of my second trimester, which seems to have gotten confused with my first trimester, since it’s given me all day nausea and zapped my energy and ripped away every ounce of patience I was clinging to when it comes to handling a toddler. The best I can do right now is pray for some relief from the afternoon thunderstorms the weatherman keeps promising but never seem to appear, drink iced tea by the gallon and refuse to move any more than absolutely necessary.

Or maybe move to Seattle. I hear they don’t have this problem.

Thank you thank you THANK YOU to everyone who donated! Your generosity will help mamas and babies have healthy, full term pregnancies. Although the walk is over (and thus your chance to make me suffer personally is past), donations and volunteers are always welcome.

Our weather on Saturday was picture-perfect – low humidity, hours and hours of sunshine, warm enough for shorts, which is unusual in Connecticut in April. Unfortunately, the walk was Sunday. Not such good weather – rain, rain, and more rain, but it didn’t stop tons of people from showing up. I briefly considered leaving Baby Evan home (with E of course, not tied to a chair or something) but decided marching with my baby would be more fun. And it was, except for the fact that my stroller doesn’t have a rain shield so I hauled his chubby butt 3 miles in a backpack carrier. It was…a really good workout. And I definitely think I deserve extra credit for doing it pregnant.

Here are the pictures I took and some of my live-tweeting. I was super excited when @marchofdimes actually tweeted back!

Skeptical baby is skeptical about getting out of the car in the rain

Once I got the baby in his bubble he was warm and dry. Don't worry, it has air holes.

See? Festive!

Sarah with Baby C. She's one of my crazy hippie friends. You can tell by the baby tied to her chest.

Baby A in her Stroller Strides t-shirt. She's not in a cage, just under a bug/rain cover.

Most of our team, ready to get going! Waiting for the "official" start at 10 am was actually the most unpleasant part of the day.

"Low tide" is the nice way to say it. Although one little girl caught a whiff and accused her brother of pooping.

He says he doesn't hate babies, he's just too smart to go wander around in the rain.

Here we go! The backpack worked really well (and was the only one there) but DUDE, my kid is a CHUNK.

True story. And I tripped like 14 times.

Our fantastic Stroller Strides team!

The view from the end of Bluff Point. Nice today, FANTASTIC in good weather.

Bonus backpack feature: it has a stand so I can put him down for a few minutes. THANK GOD.

In the home stretch on the way back! I don't think walking backwards up a hill to take this picture was a wise choice, but it all worked out.

I've never been so happy to see a stupid balloon arch in my life.

And then we all went for Mexican food and lived happily ever after. Except I’m not sure I’ll be able to pick the baby up at all tomorrow. I think I’ll spend the evening researching what kind of heavy duty muscle relaxers are safe to take during pregnancy. There’s got to be some, right?

I have to say, it was a really great experience and such a good cause. I will definitely participate again next year, although I will being praying extra hard for better weather!

We’re having a little bit of rain here in Connecticut, the way Lady Gaga’s outfits are a little unusual or Tiger Woods had a little bit of a wandering eye.

Luckily we live on a hill and don’t have anywhere urgent to go, although it’s a good thing I had something planned for dinner since my local grocery store is closed and I just saw our local pizza place on the news surrounded by sandbags.

I drove down to the path where we used to walk to dog to take a look at the river and then went over to the falls to see how high the water was. Pretty high.

You can find some pictures of what the falls usually look like here, video of the falls during a normal day here, and more pictures of the flood in Connecticut here. If a bunch of the pictures look familiar, it’s because I emailed my photos to the local news station and they put them in their slideshow. I’M FAMOUS!

That island in the middle? Is not usually an island.

Usually this part of the river is barely deep enough to kayak.

On the right in the old mill they turned into condos. The leasing agent standing outside said the river had actually gone DOWN since this morning.

These falls are usually a nice quiet picnic spot

The falls from the bridge above - I got off it quick because I could feel it shaking.

The falls are called "Indian Leap". The story is one Indian tribe was chasing another Indian tribe and when they got to the falls the first tribe all jumped off the rocks in desperation. They died. Great story, right?

In New England, as soon as we get that one glorious day of warm above freezing weather everyone goes berserk with spring fever and breaks out their flip-flops and skirts and shorts and starts acting like it’s 85 degrees out. The stores put all their jeans and sweaters on clearance and start selling bathing suits and sandals (True story – about two weeks after giving birth last April I went out to buy some non-maternity jeans to wear until I fit into my old ones. It took four stores to find one really terrible, overpriced pair because everyone was selling SHORTS). No one cares that one 45 degree day in March is usually followed by six more weeks of winter. We could get two feet of snow tomorrow and half my state would still be out in their gardens planting flowers, insisting it’s just a fluke storm and summer is just around the corner.

Having lived in New England for approximately half my life (on and off) I fall victim to this false spring every. single. year. I think it’s a form of self-preservation, since if you don’t fully enjoy the few warm days we get in February and March you’ll be hiding in a dark room banging your head against the wall waaaay before May.

Since Baby Evan is a true New England baby, we took advantage of today’s springlike above freezing weather to take him to the park. I was hoping that since he walks about 75% of the time around the house he’d really enjoy a new space to run. Instead, he threw himself on the ground as soon as he discovered the joy that is mulch. E and I spent the whole time trying to keep him from shoving handfuls of cedar bark and acorns in his mouth. I guess we can add “dirt” to the list of things he probably won’t be allergic too based on early childhood consumption. Already on the list: dog hair, cat hair, lint, yarn, dust, blood, plastic, wood and stickers. Still, I would call our first park adventure a success.

He wasn't quite sure about the swing at first (or maybe he was just COLD, like E kept saying. "Do you think he's cold? He looks cold. Aren't you cold?")

But he definitely warmed up to it (OH MY GOD DID YOU SEE THAT PUN? BAM!)

I don't know if you can even see the baby over my ridiculously yellow sweater. I bought it this morning in a frenzy of pastel colors and tank tops at Old Navy.

"I don't know what just happened, but LET'S DO IT AGAIN"

SLIIIIIDE! SLIDE SLIDE SLIDE SLIDE SLIDE! SLIDING is my FAVORITE!

WHEEEEEEEE!!! (And just in case you're thinking I'm some sort of neglectful mother who's so busy taking pictures she sends her 11 month old down the slide alone, don't worry. I'm sitting on the end and there is NO WAY he's gonna get around me. My butt could keep eight kids on that slide.)

Oh did I say slide was my favorite? I meant stick. STICK is definitely my favorite.

Yes (despite this very questionable caterpillar climby thing - now with more chipped lead paint!!!) I think we'll definitely be back for more park.

Baby Evan is suffering from his first real illness, although unless there’s a medical term for “buckets of snot coming from the nose” it’s not something we could have vaccinated against. I think it’s due to a combination of  the weather change, teething, and maybe a tiny head cold. Unfortunately, his cold came at exactly the same moment he learned to army crawl at an alarming speed, so now he’s dragging himself around the house, leaving slimy trails of snot and booger-filled spit everywhere he goes. He’s the world’s cutest snail.

For the most part, Baby Evan doesn’t seem to care his nose is dripping everywhere, and refuses to allow anyone to do anything about it. He fights tissues, cloths or baby wipes anywhere near his face. Yesterday we held him down and got a few saline drops up his nose, but the level of EVIL WOMAN CHILD ABUSE TORTURE SOMEBODY HELP ME screaming and struggling hardly seemed worth it. I tried to squirt some milk in his nostrils but most of it ended up in his eye. Unless he gets sicker or starts spiking a fever, we’re going to just wait out the booger machine. I’m hoping that doesn’t mean waiting for warmer April May June weather, when the neighbors become concerned and break in to find all of us stuck to the floor, encased in slime, a horrible tableau serving as a warning to lazy parents everywhere.