Virgin Islands 1970, originally uploaded by blondemom.

Who is this mystery couple of international intrigue, circa 1970, and is it possible that this woman could have given birth to a fabulous baby girl (hint, hint) the previous summer?

Are they extras for a James Bond flick?

Speaking of extras, need any for the Osmond family reunion?

Can you tell I am having fun with my new printer slash scanner slash copier toy from Kodak?

(Which I plan on revealing more about next week during a big Thanksgiving giveaway!)

Oh, and 1971 called. I have your comforter and Yosemite Sam alarm clock.

p.s. Jess at Oh, the Joys wrote a lovely post recently about old family photos.

We took the girls for a Sunday afternoon drive in the country recently to the hubby’s grandmother’s farm. Although there weren’t yet any tomatoes, we came home with some fine homegrown squash and potatoes. Now Grandmother Jen passed away several years ago, but the farm is still in the family. It’s a bonafide Middle Tennessee with an old barn and an outhouse and a front porch with an worn wooden glider and a croquet set that the hubby remembers playing with as a boy. The old house sits empty, the flowerbeds are overgrown and the porch is quiet, but there is still homegrown goodness on the land. My father-in-law’s cousin plants a heck of a garden every spring and we usually drive up a few times every summer because the magnetic force of homegrown tomatoes is too great to resist.

We went on a squash hunt and Miss A insisted on running in between the rows of plants with a strand of purple beads in one hand and a pink Cinderella flip phone in the other because apparently she was expecting a very important call and she also needed to be able to accessorize with just a moment’s notice.

As we were leaving the garden, this old weathered chair caught my eye. I couldn’t really get a good shot of it unless I took a few steps on to someone else’s property. So I did. Some things just on the edge of your peripheral vision beg to be admired and photographed, even an old country chair.

My mother is building a beautiful new home less than 10 miles from us. I’m very excited as we will no longer have to trek up the interstate for a visit and the hubby and I can drop the girls off and go to dinner drinking on a whim!

Yesterday I took Amelia to daycare for a few hours while Caitlin and I ran errands. A Wal-Hell trip was on the agenda, and I figured I’d have a closer grip on sanity if I didn’t take both girls. I was proven right as later in the day I took both girls to the movie rental store and Amelia decided that she just wasn’t going to be bothered with the whole being buckled in her car seat thing. Good times.

Caitlin and I stopped by my mom’s new home to see the progress. Everything is falling into place nicely, and I especially love the kitchen. I know that’s puzzling as despite not being a great cook, I do love kitchens. Her cabinets ended up being more of a light tan than the antique white she was looking for, so she ordered a different shade of countertop–sort of a coppery, leather looking type finish.

Oh. My. Lord.

I took one look at those handsome, come hither countertops and it was all I could do to not run my hand lovingly down them and chain myself to a drawer pull. My first thought…”WOW, these would not show any dirt or fingerprints or coffee or red wine drips or yogurt flingage!” My imagination went wild with the possibilities!

We’ve been in our house six and a half years and our white on white on white kitchen (as in white cabinets, countertops, and appliances) is looking a little dingy. We didn’t have kids when we bought the house and I was just thrilled that it had been remodeled, as our house was built in the late 1960s. The white color scheme in our kitchen didn’t seem to be a problem back then, as our only kids at the time were our two dogs, Bailey and Jack, and I knew they wouldn’t be dancing on the countertops with their muddy paws any time soon.

Lately I’ve found myself with home wanderlust and looking at homes for sale online, even though we are at least a few years away from buying a new, or new to us, home. I’ve even taken to stalking homes in our neighborhood as they go up for sale, because the property value keeps going up, which bodes well for us if that trend continues. I’m going to try not to lust after my mother’s new home too much, but there’s something about the smell of paint fumes that is intoxicating. And as long as our house doesn’t know I’m cheating on it, I think I can get away with flirting behind its back.

The first stop on our Easter road show was lunch at my mother’s house followed by dinner at the hubby’s parents. My sister-in-law brought our nephew Connor, who is just 3 and a half weeks old. My brother-in-law stayed home with our 2-year-old nephew who was not feeling well.

The girls were completely enamored with their sleeping boy wonder cousin. He was curled up in his infant car seat carrier on the floor, sleeping peacefully under a blanket and occasionally grunting and squishing up his face as he concentrated on pooping while sleeping, which is a talent that babies have. I mean really, when else in life can you enjoy uninterrupted slumber while pooping? Once you have to walk to the toilet and wipe your own bottom the responsibilities and realities just start to mount and the next thing you know you’ve got a mortgage and Sears is mailing you warranty reminders on all your major appliances.

Any way the girls gathered at his feet. They were completely enthralled with him, especially Caitlin who was not shy about shushing Amelia and placing her hand over Amelia’s hand while she whispered instructions. “Don’t wake him up! Just touch his blanket! Don’t touch his face!”

Amelia got up and disappeared for a minute into the kitchen. I assumed she had grown tired of big sister bossing her around, but she came back bearing gifts for baby Connor. She started tossing packs of candy on him from her Easter basket while he slept. Despite all this girly showering of affection, he continued to sleep. Despite being pelted with fun size packs of M&Ms and Starburst candy by Amelia, he continued to sleep. Oh to sleep that soundly.

I bet he was dreaming of two pretty little girls, a blonde and brunette, sitting at his feet, watching him lovingly and showering him with candy. No wonder he was sleeping so well, sweet boy.

Our new nephew, Connor, arrived Wednesday!
Isn’t he a cutie? The cheeks…oh my Lord…THE CHEEKS!

Caitlin was so excited about meeting her new cousin. She helped me give him a little bit of a bottle. Amelia said “Connor” and “Baby” and jumped and climbed on every surface in the hospital room.

I have to say the mama hormones kicked in while I was holding him and I had to repeat, “No more babies, no more babies, no more babies.” But they sure are wonderful to hold.

I am Dora’d out.

We had a great family party here at the house yesterday for Amelia. The nicest surprise was that my oldest sister, my brother-in-law, my 21-year-old nephew, and his girlfriend were able to stop in as they were driving home to Michigan from their spring break trip to Florida. Caitlin was completely fascinated with seeing her “big cousin.”

I ended up opening all of Amelia’s presents with Caitlin’s help. Amelia didn’t really seem too into the gifts, but was more excited about having company and eating cake. She did, however, love the Dora trike we got her and the weather was perfect yesterday for trying it out on the back patio. She also got clothes, Dora tennis shoes, books, a monogrammed tote bag, and a fun Dora chair and Dora bathtub toy that Caitlin also loves. If the girls wake up tomorrow and suddenly hate Dora, we’re in big trouble. Amelia was passed out at 7:30 last night.

Yesterday reminded me of our wedding day in that I felt like the entire party went by in a blur and when it was all over I felt like I never really talked to anyone for more than 30 seconds. The dogs were very well behaved and didn’t protest too much to being shut out in the back yard although our neighbor’s rat terrier decided to try to crash the party by barking at the front door repeatedly. I also was able to let go of my paranoia that everyone was noticing the ground-in dog hair in our carpet. Besides, it really blends in well. I did light a tea light candle before everyone came over, though, as our house is very dog friendly. Cough.

My sister-in-law still hasn’t had her baby but I bet we have a new nephew any day. She did try the famous labor inducing eggplant parmesan recipe yesterday that Lindsay Ferrier at Suburban Turmoil also has touted, so we’re all waiting the big news. Between our 2-year-old nephew, our 21-year-old nephew, and Amelia, we already have three March cousins in the family and my oldest sister is a March baby, too.

We received a very unusual gift from my brother for Christmas. He gave us a Kiva gift card so that we might help fund a small business in a developing country, from Bulgaria to Togo. If you visit the Kiva website you can choose a business to sponsor and help the world’s working poor make strides toward economic independence. You can also opt to receive email journal updates from the business you’ve sponsored. A Kiva loan typically lasts for 6 to 12 months. As loans are repaid, you get your loan money back and you may then choose to sponsor another business (or you can choose to get your money back and simply withdraw it.) My husband is a small business owner and it can be pretty unpredictable and tough to get started, even in the best of circumstances, so I cannot imagine the hurdles an entrepreneur in a developing country faces.

So while I was adding things to my Amazon wish list and getting sucked into the typical consumer driven urge to acquire more “stuff,” my brother found a unique, alternative way to give on many levels. He told me before Christmas he’d given us a “gift that keeps on giving,” and he was right.

Here’s a link to the Kiva page that tells how you can spread the word (I’ve added a Kiva button to my sidebar.)

Added 1/11/07: I just received an e-mail journal update from the woman in Mexico who I am sponsoring. She expresses her thanks to her sponsors and assures us she will repay the loan. It’s great to know I am helping in some small way.

And thanks to Laura for linking to Kiva!

My retired dad, aka my own personal manny, has been in sunny Florida for over a week, but now he’s back and just in the nick of time. He’s entertaining Caitlin for the day and he’s already made a post office run for me. I believe lunch at O’Charleys and a matinee (maybe “Happy Feet?”) are on the agenda. Dude, I want to be four again!

Any way, here’s a little ditty, dedicated to my daddy. (Yes, in the south you can be 37 and still call your father “daddy.”)

My Manny’s Back (sung to “My Boyfriend’s Back”)

Papa went to the Redneck Riviera
And my baby girl got pneumonia
And, when I needed a Santa’s helper
He said he’d be right over

(Hit it…)

My manny’s back and he’s gonna run some errands
Hey la, hey la, my manny’s back

He goes by Papa and he’s tight with Santa
Hey la, hey la, my manny’s back

That’s all I can think of…this mama’s going to take a much needed nap while Amelia is asleep. Well, scratch the nap. She had a terrible coughing jag that woke her and now we are playing.