AN APRIL HEATWAVE AND FIVE REASONS WHY I HATE IT

So we're in the midst of a British heatwave, and as we all know they don't last long, blink and you've missed it. In fact as I sit here, typing away, with my aloe-vera bathed skin, I'm certain by the time anyone gets around to reading this post, there will be rain against the windows and clouds in the sky. It is England after all. I'm not usually one for sunbathing in England, hanging around in beer gardens or even remotely attempting to lap up the sun. Of course I adore the days that bit more when the skies are blue and the temperatures sitting nicely above twenty, but I much prefer those days to appear on holiday and not on my own home turf. Call me a bit of a bore, but I don't particularly enjoy a British heatwave.


The weather in the UK isn't predictable, even within each season you never fully know what to expect. Just this month we've had both rain, snow and shine, it's probably got a deeper connection to global warming but it feels as though mother nature is messing around with me. I can't really remember when winter started, it's been that cold, for that long. I longed for sunshine, I truly did, with the whole of Britain I joined in the collective call for sunnier days and lighter evenings - and I stand by it. Now we can venture out post tea-time, with the boys to the park, it's great and we all feel the benefit for it. But there's a few things that niggle away at me and make me remember just how unsuited we truly are for hotter climates in our own country.

1. The night sweats.
Ah yes, something I thought I'd waved goodbye to after I glided out of the postpartum period with Patrick. Wrong. The surprise summer sun making an early appearance has meant I have not swapped out the duvet for a lighter tog, and the stubbornness in me knows as soon as I do we'll see snow falling from the sky - it's really not worth it. So instead I sweat, yes gross. Bedtime is uncomfortable, sticky and hot. Sure a fan could be used but is the whirring sound any less irritating than the humidity? What's the lesser of two evils? On holiday it's rarely an issue thanks to air conditioning, but here at home, I resemble a hog roast in a duvet.

2. Midday Surprise.
We've all been there, heading out to work or a day out with your coat, jumper and jeans on, only to discover by 11pm it's the hottest day on record so far. Yet at 8am you were debating whether you would need de-icer for your car and cursed yourself for not picking up the extra cans whilst they were on offer. It's the worst kind of day and I'm always caught out. It usually involved a replay of the above, except in daylight hours. Running around like an overworked camel in the desert, staring enviously at people wandering the streets in strapless dresses and sandals, who were somewhat more prepared than you.

3. Make-up no more.
Any form of facial cosmetics in the heat is just a no no. It isn't going to work, no matter how many fixing sprays you use, by the end of the day your make-up will be as visible as it was before you applied any. It's a fruitless effort but it still doesn't stop me trying every single time. My eyes might stream behind my sunglasses from the toxic mix of Collection mascara and sunshine, but I'll still reapply it, go hard or go home right?

4. Sunburn
There is absolutely no escaping it. I'm pretty in denial about the sun in England being strong enough to burn, which even as I'm writing, I know is ridiculous. I might apply sunscreen once in the morning, and though I'll happily and thoroughly re-apply it to the boys all day long, I seem to miss myself out of the equation. And oh boy do I feel it come bedtime, out comes the aloe-vera and the reminiscence smell of holidays to taunt you of your foolishness. I'll never learn.

5. Wildlife
I'm not a huge animal lover, so sue me. Of course I'd never wish any animals ill means, and I am the first person to ask if it's ok to stroke a dog that walks past, but I'm not really at one with nature. Bugs, insects, anything that can move faster than me (pretty much the entire animal kingdom) is not high on my list of loves. There's nothing to set the fear of god into you quicker than the sound of a buzz, frantic turning to locate the source and then the mad dash, or swat - pick your weapon of choice. It's harder when you're a parent, it's ingrained into you to be brave, but I can't follow up on the 'stay still and it wont hurt you' motto that I preach to my children. If a bee comes for me I'm running.

So whilst I adore travelling, and would always head for sunnier skies over snowy slopes, I'm just not that fond of British summertime, or more precisely, the heatwaves. Give me ice-creams on the beach, under a parasol in the costa-del-sol anyday over the hot and sticky East Midlands. Britain might be cut out for it's summer days, but I don't really think I am.