I think that Atlanta is about as Southern as Florida. Which is just to say that it is not. But at least it is good to know that there are pockets outside of Atlanta where Southern heritage is celebrated and Sherman is hated still.

Only two more months until my baby girl arrives...or maybe a little less. I have been in search of bows for her hair...Such a hard thing to find. Who would have imagined...

Isn't it funny that before Peanut arrived I was scared to pieces of having a little hellion when he started walking...Things actually get easier the older he gets. And parenting is more rewarding. What an awesome feeling it is every time that he brings me a book and plops down into my lap for me to read it to him...or when I catch him with a dust rag wiping down the furniture with Mommy when I dust. I can't wait to have two babies. I have no fear but that they will love each other. But for all of the horror stories I hear, I loved having my little brother. Who else would have let me play like Barbie was GI Joe's mommy? My only concern is that I will have to be careful to make sure that he isn't too rough with his little sister in his enthusiasm to hold and see the new baby.

Some day when I am dead and gone...Hubby will find himself a wilderness woman. She'll scrub her face on a rock in a murky stream. And fry him up a mess of crickets for dinner. She'll go a month between shaving her legs. And her favorite colors will be tan, red, and camouflage (...did I spell that right?)... She won't need a bathhouse when she camps...just a shovel and a corn cob. And she will laugh at the thought of a shower on vacation. She'll put on extra weight in the winter for insulation against the cold...and until she loses it again...she'll be his shade for sun in the summer. She'll be able to tree a squirrel better that any old hound dog. And she'll boss his butt around with a voice louder and more harsh than any man's. And I am going to sit up in heaven and laugh at him. And think about all of the times that he called my form of survival camping in the wilds of a campground for 1 night max "campering." It most definitely is not "campering" to fight off bugs all by yourself in a dirty bathhouse. It is a scary fight for survival...

Hotlanta

I am in Hotlanta now. Except for this week...but that's a long story. Renting out a house is no fun...especially in the days before it is rented.

I am scared that my babies will grow up talking like Yankees...or midWesteners - which is the preferred "American" dialect these days. Not that I have a Southern accent...but I always had such high hopes for my little ones. Everyone in Atlanta that I have heard speak, speaks just like a durn Yankee.

A few things that I have learned from moving...
1. Never hire movers... what a pain in the heinie!
2.Spanish soap operas are so much cooler than American soap operas...and the talk shows are so much more entertaining...even if you don't understand 90% of what is going on.
3.Throwing away what feels to be 1/3 of all of your earthly belongings to move is dramatic, traumatic, and a little empowering. I feel as if my soul in lighter now. Don't ask me why.

It all happened so fast...I am not even sure who knows that we are gone and who doesn't. By the way...I am trying to convince baby girl to make her debut in 10 weeks. Pregnancy is no fun anymore when it lingers on.

Oh...here is just one reason that I am convinced that I have the smartest baby boy in the universe...Hubby came home the other day when I was cleaning the back bedroom. And Peanut was playing with his toys in the livingroom. He came and got me when his Daddy was trying to get into the door (we have one of those locks that can only be unlocked from the inside...). He walked to the doorway of the bedroom, pointed tothe door, and said "Dada." I asked him if his Daddy was home and he started walking to the door. I had never heard Hubby knock at the door because the fan was running in the room with me. Thank goodness for my smart little boy...

Did you know that they charge $10 to see a cow eat grass here? Just as soon as I get a little bit of land, I am going to put a cow on it and start raking in some cash. Yankees who conglomerate down South are just plain stupid. Can you imagine what they would pay to see a chicken?