It is hot here: screaming, smoking, feels-like-40-degrees-with-the-humidity hot. No, really, it feels like 40 FREAKING degrees out there.
Luckily, we have a wading pool to soak our feet in and a lovely beach nearby.
This beach, Petrie Island, is about a five-minute drive from our house. In the winter, neighbours told me how nice it was to live so close to the beach, and I was all, "Huh? The beach?? There's a beach? Where's the beach? Why is there a beach?" Now that I have felt the true wrath of an Ottawan summer -- I hope. It doesn't get worse does it? -- I see the value of the beach. I foresee many days laying in the soft sand and swimming in the water -- when it is clean, that is. This is the Ottawa River, so sometimes the E.coli count is too high, and things get shut down. Dylan is horrified by the thought of swimming in poo water, but I am more philosophical about it and think I may chance a bit of poo to cool off.
The heat seems especially hard on Finn. He can get sweaty and hot at the best of times. Forty degrees makes him a bit cranky. Poor kid. He needs an igloo and a dog sled and mountains of snow to feel comfortable, I think.

A bit of sand and cool water happens to cheer him up, though.

Little Rosemary deals with the heat in the best fashion I can think of aside from ice-cream treats: napping in the stroller.