<b>By Pamela Brownstein</b>

When I discovered my due date was August 7, many people expressed sympathy over my being pregnant during the summer months. I dismissed their comments, and thought, “These people don’t know; I’m stronger than that. How bad can it really be?”

Now, at 31 weeks, with my baby the size of 3 pound cabbage, I’m starting to understand why so many women lament summer pregnancies. It’s like as soon as May hit, so did my third trimester, and the two collided and the heat and extra weight nearly knocked me down. I feel like a stereotypical caricature of a pregnant lady I picture waddling around Waterfront Park before collapsing on a bench in the shade hoping no one will notice her red, sweaty face.

I don’t think it makes it any easier that my son, Wolfe, has turned from a sweet baby to a full-on big boy toddler overnight. At 16 months, he is ready to go and explore everything in the world, leaving his mom and dad in his dust, exhausted and wondering how we’ll ever be able to keep up — especially once his baby sister arrives.

I’ve already given up picking up his toys, the effort it takes just to bend over is almost comical, and in the end not worth it. A part of me thinks it’s kind of funny to see items completely out of place that Wolfe has carried around and quickly discarded: A fork in the bathroom, a remote control in a tupperware container on the kitchen floor, an empty milk carton swiped from the recycling bin that mysteriously reappears under the dining room table.

It sounds so cliché also, but he has grown up so fast, even in the last two months. While it is a lot of work to keep up with him, I know he’s at a super endearing age where he’s absorbing all the sounds and actions of those around him, and it’s really cute to watch him try to make the sound of a cow (“Moo” sounds more like a soft “boo”) or show you his belly button, which he thinks is pretty amazing.

And even though most of the time I feel like a cow myself, and just want to lie on my nice cool bed with my giant belly and let the ceiling fan work its magic, I know I need to get up and make the most of the day. Wolfe will only be this way for a short time, and already I feel like I’m letting it pass me by.

So during these next two months when the humid days of summer really start to set in, I’ll be thinking about all the other moms-to-be who are sweating it out as I chase my toddler around the beach and playground, and take comfort knowing New Bebe will be here soon.