About the time Kevin and I got engaged, people started asking us where we wanted to end up eventually. Neither of us come from the kind of families that all settle in the same city again, and we weren't really sure our parents would remain where they were after they retired, so the world was open to us. Unlike some people who go to BYU, we aren't Utah haters, but we never really figured we'd end up here. We started to answer with where we wouldn't end up rather than where we would. We would tell people we didn't want to go to the South, or anyplace more desert than Utah.
The desert requirement was nothing more than a preference in climate. I'm not good with dry and I'm not good with hot. Although I'm not good with wet hot either, my prejudice against the South was more of a cultural thing. (Warning!: Stereotypes and Generalizations to follow.) Although my family are transplants to the Midwest, I communicate with more than my share of "Midwestern nice." In my limited experience, there are no two groups of English-speaking people on this continent who communicate more differently than Midwesterners and Southerners. I had a few Southern roommates who were forever surprising and amazing me by saying exactly what they meant. I'm sure I frustrated them by veiling my meaning in layers and layers of Midwestern Nice. Also it intimidates me a little how well a Southern Bell minds her manners. I'm sure I haven't even heard of three quarters of the behaviors a true Southern Bell lives on a daily basis. I mean, really all I know is not to put my elbows on the table or lick my fingers, and I can't say I follow those rules religiously. I excluded the South from my possible settling places I guess mostly because I'm afraid I can't possibly fit in.
It's a good thing I know that the Lord knows better than I do what I need, because we're moving to Georgia next month. We found out a few days ago that Kevin will be working in Atlanta starting March 1st. I must admit I was pretty terrified at first, but as the news has actually settled in, it turns out I'm pretty excited. Although, after watching "Blind Side" last night (a film I highly recommend), I'm once again wary of impending culture shock. How will I survive in a world of Mrs. Tuohys who can say what they mean? (Time out for a quick Alena quote. The evening I found out, I had put on Alena's pajamas and was picking her up to go brush her teeth in the bathroom when I just had to give her a big hug and tell her how happy I was that where ever we go, she's going with us. She looked at me, smiled and said, "Yeah. And we're going to the bathroom!")
Anyway, if you have connections to Atlanta you'd like to share, we'd love to hear about them, especially if it's a really fabulous OB/GYN or pediatrician. We'll be needing each of those about 20 minutes after we arrive in Atlanta. (We finally found a dentist we like here if you want to swap recommendations.) Also if you want to rent our house here or buy it for more than its current market value, we may be able to accommodate you. Or if you want to clean this house after the movers come while I sit around and nurse on the floor in corners due to a complete lack of furniture, feel free. It seems to me I sat around in corners in this house nursing due to a complete lack of furniture not too long ago. Major life-changing events never come one at a time, do they? Happily, thinking about both the move and the baby boy's imminent arrival make me smile when I think about them. Miraculous isn't it, for a girl who wouldn't mind settling anywhere other than the South or someplace more desert than Utah?