The heat is gnarly. One hundred degrees in Denver means, even up here in the hills, it’s 90. The kids are sweating in school in shorts, and it all feels extreme coming so late in the summer. Everyone is lethargic. My plants need an extra drink.

I spent the day in Denver, despite the heat. Met my mom for errands at Target and Sprouts. I miss the routines of buying in bulk, of buying local—it’s hard to do this in the mountains. (Obviously, Target wasn’t about local wares, but the hope of some early fall items on the shelves.)

After running around the suburbs, we hit the movie theater. One of my favorite mom-daughter traditions is seeing a matinee and calling popcorn our “lunch”—always with plain M&Ms. Mom hadn’t seen Barbie yet, so I saw it again. Loved it just as much. She loved it too, and it was fun to talk about these elements of womanhood with her, like equals.

After, I had just enough time to grab a sparkling water and head up the mountain to pick-up kids. I had to run the air conditioning and I felt guilty idling in the pick-up line.

We raced home and I changed to make it to my Monday night yoga class—I hadn’t been in weeks. I caught up with the instructor, whom I consider a friend. I sweat my way through a grounding flow, and I honestly didn’t like doing it but was glad to have done it at the end of the class.

I got home just in time for family dinner, and then I helped with homework. Only the first week of middle school advanced math and I’m googling things to help my child. (Insert wide-eyed emoji.)