I am 37 weeks pregnant, and it's usually about 100 degrees outside. Because those facts do not, in fact, happily coexist in any universe, my time outside is extremely limited these days.
As in, I avoid it like the plague.
When I do venture outside, it's usually done grudgingly and quickly, with a specific (and limited) objective in mind.
One night, Beep and I set out on a mission, which was thus:
Hoist Beep onto Mama's hip
Love on Sam
Waddle inside ASAP
Planting one on Sam
Horsehair-y faces are easily washed clean (eventually)
A little hand loves well
A big hand loves, too