I can no longer trust my own ability to judge temperature. This is especially bad for David since I'm the one who gets him dressed every morning. Lately, he is just as likely to end up in sweatpants and his winter coat on a warm day as he is shorts and a t-shirt when it's cold and wet.
Usually, it's the cold I can't feel.
I sleep with the window open, and if I can get away with it the fan is on, even though it's 40 degrees out at night. If I don't, I wake up several times a night in a sweat after dreaming that I'm being suffocated by mutant moles (those things just freak me the hell out).
It's not that I didn't expect this, I knew it was coming. When I had Bre (in November in PA where it actually gets cold) I was running my air conditioning all. the. time. So what if it was snowing? All the better actually because then I could go sit in the snow and cool down.
No, the problem isn't me.
The problem is my husband.
Because despite having been through this before, despite clearly remembering all the nights he slept in the guest room because our room was too cold for his poor delicate skin (freakin' wear pajamas and sleep under the covers then!), he just didn't think we'd have to go through this again.
Because I'm pregnant in the summer and therefore it cancels out that whole over-heated thing?
I had the air conditioning on for about 30 minutes just to cool down while I was making dinner.
He chose this moment to tell me that he had turned the heat back on.
I threatened to run naked down on our street.
I think I got my point across because the heat is now off.