Heat, Homework, and Bullseyes: Surviving Summer One Day at a Time

Some weeks seem determined to test your patience, and this one certainly qualified. The summer heat arrived with full force, turning everyday life into an endurance challenge. By Thursday, I could honestly say that I had very little energy left. It wasn’t just work or family or the weather—it was everything together. Even sitting in my home office felt like being inside an oven.

Janita immediately noticed my lack of enthusiasm. She asked how I was doing, and I admitted that it was simply too hot. Outside, the temperatures kept climbing, while inside my office the only thing standing between me and complete misery was a tiny fan sitting beside my laptop. It did its best, creating just enough of a breeze to remind me what real wind used to feel like. Of course, what I really wanted was proper air conditioning, but like many homes and schools here, we simply don’t have it.

Thankfully, the weather forecast offered a little hope. Next week promised cooler temperatures, somewhere around twenty-two degrees. That suddenly sounded absolutely wonderful. After several days in the high thirties, twenty-five degrees almost felt like winter.

Janita laughed when I said that twenty-five degrees would already be enough for me. I had been enjoying my own weather from inside her swimming pool. The water was already over thirty degrees, which sounded almost unbelievable to me. I joked that anything colder made me scream, while I couldn’t stop thinking about how nice it would be to simply jump into the water whenever the heat became unbearable.

The heat had also changed life for my children. My daughter had started school later in the morning because her classroom happened to be the coolest room in the building. Her teacher decided to teach only the most important subjects before letting the children cool off by playing with water or quietly finishing homework. My son was even luckier. Instead of staying until mid-afternoon as usual, his school dismissed everyone around lunchtime because the classrooms had become far too hot. I couldn’t blame the schools. Most of them don’t have air conditioning either, and with morning temperatures already reaching twenty-six or twenty-seven degrees, it simply wasn’t practical to keep children sitting inside all day.

Janita thought that was one thing Germany did very well. She explained that schools in South Africa usually carry on regardless of the weather. Whether it’s a heatwave or an unusually cold day, the children still attend their normal classes. At most, parents receive a message reminding them to pack extra water bottles. She wished her local schools would sometimes shorten lessons the way ours do.

In fact, one of my son’s friends had already told me that his school had reduced every lesson from forty-five minutes to only thirty because of the heat. The children jokingly called it their “heatwave timetable.” It sounded like a sensible solution to me.

Friday would be an even shorter day for my son because his class was visiting the mayor at the city hall. They would meet an hour earlier than planned and finish before lunchtime. Not a bad way to begin a weekend.

Despite all the adjustments, I could feel my energy disappearing every single day. I admitted that I had considered cancelling our meeting because of the weather. The only thing motivating me was knowing that afterwards I could finally escape into the swimming pool.

Unfortunately, before I could enjoy the water, there was still bread to bake.

Making sourdough bread isn’t as simple as putting dough into the oven. First I have to prepare the sourdough starter with flour and water and then wait for it to become active before mixing the final dough. Janita suggested I simply buy bread instead, but the nearest supermarket was still several kilometres away, and although I had asked my husband to buy some while collecting my son from school, he had completely forgotten.

Sometimes life has a wonderful sense of humour.

During our meeting, both of my children briefly appeared to say hello. My daughter had been disappointed the previous week because she hadn’t been able to greet Janita, so she made sure not to miss the opportunity this time. My son, on the other hand, was much more shy. It was the first time they had met, and although he politely introduced himself, he quickly disappeared again.

The conversation gradually shifted from the weather to something much more personal.

Janita asked whether there had been any moments during the week when I felt I desperately needed a break.

I laughed.

Every single day.

Although we had only recently returned from holiday, I already found myself wishing for the next one. Two whole months until the end of August suddenly felt like forever. Between work, family life, the constant heat and the lack of sleep, every day seemed to demand just a little more energy than I had available.

The nights were probably the worst part. Even with the windows wide open, there wasn’t the slightest breeze. The air simply stood still. We had only recently moved a fan into the bedroom, and even that small change helped me sleep a little better. Before that, it had felt impossible to get any proper rest.

We also compared school holidays. While our children would only begin their long summer holiday at the end of July, Janita explained that South African schools were just beginning their winter break. Their long summer holiday arrives in December instead, when they experience their hottest weather. We laughed about how strange that sounded from each other’s perspective.

The conversation even wandered briefly into snow. I admitted that I don’t particularly enjoy it. The children love building snowmen and playing outside, but someone still has to shovel the driveway afterwards. Unfortunately, last winter the snow arrived after Christmas rather than during the holidays, which seemed like poor timing.

Fortunately, not everything during the week revolved around work or weather.

Darts continued to provide a welcome escape.

On Monday and again on Wednesday evening I played exceptionally well. One of my fellow players had jokingly announced that he needed a victim to beat. I happily volunteered.

Instead, I won.

After the match he jokingly told me to “get the hell out,” which only made everyone laugh even harder. During another game I had claimed I couldn’t hit anything properly before immediately landing a perfect triple twenty. Naturally, nobody believed my complaints after that. We teased each other throughout the evening, and although the games only relaxed me a little, they were exactly the kind of social break I needed.

Towards the end of the lesson, Janita asked whether I found it easier to help other people or ask for help myself.

Helping others is easy.

Asking for help is much harder.

I realised that I often prefer doing everything myself because I don’t want to burden anyone else, even though I know that’s not always the healthiest approach. Sometimes that’s a strength, and sometimes it’s definitely a weakness.

That led us into a conversation about family life. If family balance were a game, what would the rules be?

My first rule came immediately.

Nobody talks to me until I’ve had my morning coffee.

After that, I admitted something every parent probably understands. I wish the children would simply help around the house without being asked repeatedly. It would also be wonderful if mobile phones weren’t permanently attached to their hands. My son often walks straight from the dining room to the bathroom with his phone still in his hand, and once he’s home, it’s all too easy for him to disappear into his room with his PlayStation, his phone or his Nintendo Switch.

Janita suggested changing the Wi-Fi password until the chores were finished. We’ve tried similar ideas before, but lasting change isn’t always easy.

One thing that worries me more than untidy bedrooms is that my son doesn’t naturally talk about problems. Since changing schools he has become slightly more open, but often I only discover that something happened after another parent or a teacher contacts me first. When I ask him directly, I sometimes receive nothing more than silence.

Janita reminded me that perhaps that’s simply part of his personality. We can’t predict the future or control every situation. We can only support him, be patient and hope that, with time, he becomes more comfortable talking about difficult things.

She was right.

Like the weather, some things simply cannot be controlled.

As our meeting came to an end, Janita smiled and reminded me that I had bread to bake and a swimming pool waiting for me. I couldn’t argue with that.

Some weeks are exhausting. Some weeks leave you counting the days until the next holiday. But they also remind you that a small fan, a successful darts match, a few laughs with friends, a conversation with someone who listens, and the sight of your children coming home safely are sometimes enough to carry you through until the cooler weather finally arrives.