Dear Weather ...
I think I can safely speak for people in fickle climates everywhere when I say this: make up your damn mind.
It's mid-October right now, and you apparently can't decide whether to be balmy and summer-like or breezy and crisp. Because one day it's like eighty degrees, and the next day I'm in boots and a sweater with a hankering for chili. And on the occasions when I've been browsing Pinterest and have found a fun new way to tie a scarf so maybe I'll finally look fashionable? You throw a kink in my plans like, "Nope! It's tank top weather, bitch."
Don't even get me started on the indoor temperature, Weather. In the morning I need the heat on. In the afternoon I need the air conditioner. When I think, "I'll cool the house off by sleeping with the windows cracked," it's practically Arctic in here by 6 a.m. and I wake up with a sore throat. WTF.
And how can I (appear to) be a good mom when I have no idea how to dress my kids in a weather-appropriate manner? Between the summer shorts and the long sleeves and jeans, my laundry basket overfloweth. I JUST WANT TO PUT AWAY THE SUMMER CLOTHES, OKAY?! I'm tired of dipping into storage totes to retrieve clothing I thought my kids would no longer need.
If we were in a relationship, Weather, we'd be one of those couples who fights publicly on Facebook and then unfriends each other and changes their profile to "Single" and makes their status something like "Good riddance to that dead weight!" and then a few hours later it's updated to "Engaged" with a picture of us kissing, #blessed and #soinlove.
I'm tired of the ups and downs.
Bottom line, Weather, I'm gonna need you to stop being a capricious asshole and commit already. You're really getting in the way of my wardrobe of comfortable, fat-roll-disguising hoodies.