The Latta Family

So while I was typing the compulsion post, I thought of adding to that post about how I can't stand clutter, but then I thought that topic deserves it's very own post because there's a very good reason.  So, 10 + years ago, Doug and I bought our first home.  It was 3 weeks before we were married. We only looked at one house- this one.  I got here about 5 minutes before Doug and I knew before he walked in the door, "This is the house for us."  See, when I decide about something- I decide.  I knew after dating Doug for 2 weeks, he was The One.  That was it.  I was done.  I needed to look no further.  I was the same way about this house.  It was perfect.  I was done.  I needed to look no further.  It was perfect.  It was- and is.  I loved it because: the backyard was already fenced in for the dogs, there was a garage, a wired storage building, a big yard, it had a crawl space, it was close to town and stores- but you didn't feel like you were close to town, pl

I have 2 major compulsions.  They're things I must do.  I am pretty sure everyone has something weird that they must do, so you understand where I am coming from.  Here are mine: 1. Ironing.  I must iron all of Alexa's clothes.  The only thing I do not religiously iron is her pajamas.  Everything else, I iron.  T-shirts, knit dresses, jean shorts, all ironed.  I don't know why I do this, because within minutes of them being put on her- she's gotten milk, food, or dirt on them, but at least they're not wrinkly.  I iron carefully around the decals on her shirts, I make sure her pleats are not creased in the wrong spots.  Doug laughs at me, especially during the school year, when I am complaining that there is such a HUGE pile of ironing (because I have to iron 5 pairs of khaki pants and 5 plaid, buttoned shirts every week!).  I have no idea when I'll finally look at her clothes and go, "Eh, this is not worth it anymore."  I imagine it'll be sometim

Last night I took Doug out on a surprise date (in honor of his birthday) to our very favorite steak restaurant.  I love steak.  Love it. I could NEVER be a vegetarian.  Couldn't do it.  I love the flavor, the texture, the process of chewing a good steak.  I love steak.  I know beautiful, calm bovines are being killed for me to enjoy my dinner.  I just don't think of that.  Cows in the pasture are different than the cows that are killed.  That's my story and I am sticking to it. I am a simple steak girl- but a snobby one.  I prefer a tenderloin cut. I just need to sprinkle my tenderloin with a bit of salt and pepper and put under a broiler, and then put some sauteed mushrooms on top of my steak with lots of pink- and I am set to go.  (my mouth is watering just thinking of this) One year my mother gave me- what is turning out to be one of my favorite presents- a big beef tenderloin for Christmas.  I know, I know.  Beef tenderloin- for Christmas?! Beef tenderloin is a lu

I cannot believe a year has gone by. This has been a super fast year.  In some ways I am glad- glad to get past the collic, the neediness and my inability to meet whatever that need was.  In some ways I am sad.  She's my last baby (unless something really goes wrong).  I am already missing the stage when she'd nestle up in my neck.  I thought sitting on the couch holding her would never end, now that it has . . . it might be nice to have it back for an evening.   However, here's a little story about this day, a year ago . . . Doug and I showed up at the hospital at 8am, right on time for me to be induced. So they started pumping the Pitosin and around 11:30- I said "That's it, I must have my epidural."  I was starting to approach the "writhing in pain." that my doctor said I should have to be sure I was progressing.  So . . . the drug doctor (whose title I cannot spell) comes in and starts going through her whole spiel.  Doug's standing there

I am a terrible gift giver.  I hate the present part of birthdays and Christmas.  The stress to buy the perfect gift is too much- especially since I HATE to shop.  Yes.  I hate to shop.  The only stores I go to are Target and Harris Teeter (grocery store- for my out of state friends).  Truly.  Don't worry I do some damage to the old bank account by just going to those stores.  I find shopping overwhelming with all the choices there are.  If I find something I like at one store- I second guess myself and think I'll find it somewhere cheaper.  Where that somewhere might be- I don't know as I don't like to shop and quite honestly I am too lazy to go searching for something that I could find somewhere cheaper.  So then I find I haven't made a decision.  By the time I say- I'll just go get what I found at the first store- it's gone.  Or the other thing that happens to me at my children's birthdays is I imagine a product out there that I want.  I assume

Lately I've been getting some pictures of Alexa that are so similar to ones I have of Andrew at a similar developmental stage.  So let's play- which baby.  Which baby is Alexa and which one is Andrew?  1 2 3 4 5 6 7  8 

Here is an example of something you should not say to your wife, when you get in bed with her- after returning home from being gone all weekend.  Damn crabs!!!!!  Here's the story.  Doug went fishing with his dad this past weekend for a long weekend.  He came home Monday evening around 5:45. When he walks in the door he is walking with a very pronounced limp.  Oh jeez.  (serious eye rolls here)  So I ask him- "What happend?!"   He tells me a tale so . . . un-Doug like, it's a little funny. Apparently Monday morning as they were getting ready to leave, Doug decided to try and catch some crabs- the kind that live in the water, not the kind you catch from a scantily clad woman that charges for services rendered (hahahaha).  So he's standing on the bank of the lake with his net and . . . somehow falls in.  In all the commotion of unexpectedly getting in the water- he doesn't know how he hurt his knee.  But he apparently strained or sprained his knee- as it

Andrew and I have a struggle.  It's not something we argue about loudly.  No one is stomping off, yelling, slamming doors, screaming I am the meanest mother in the world.  It's actually a very subtle struggle.  I don't know that Doug even realizes we have this struggle.  It's over stuffed animals.  I bet you're asking yourself- "Seriously?  Stuffed animals?  What could the struggle be over them?"  Well this is me- and I have issues.  I hate stuffed animals.  To me they're clutter, dust collectors, space taker uppers.  I hate clutter.  (there's a whole other struggle against clutter between Doug and I- but that's a whole other post all together).  If I allowed it- Andrew would sleep with all of his stuffed animals, bean bag, John Deere pillow, stuffed animal pillow, and NC State pillow.  I can't allow it.  I have asked myself why?  It's not my bed. Why do I care how much junk is in there with him?  I don't know. I just do. I have

Alexa discovered my m&m hiding spot this afternoon!  I don't think Andrew even knows I have such a thing.  He's 6 and she's not quite 1.  Doug came home and ate lunch today.  Alexa's crawling around the kitchen getting into her favorite cabinets.  She discovers the m&m's.  I am watching her out of the corner of my eye, I see her glance around, carefully put her hand on the m&m bag, she stops.  Glances around again.  Puts her hand back on the bag, and then Doug catches her.  He gives her the "No, no Alexa!"  and she snatches her hand back, her hand flies up to her mouth and she goes, "oooh."  I wish to Heaven I would have had a camera to video tape her.  It was absolutely priceless, but I do have this video I managed to catch a little later.  She is her mother's child.

Alexa is a girl who can clearly handle her own.  Last week when we were at my parents, we went to the The Children's Museum in Greenville.  It was a pretty cool children's museum (although honestly I haven't found one I don't like).  So Alexa and I were hanging in the area that was designed with the 5 and under crowd in mind.  She was playing in this area where they had these little cubby holes that you could slide a door back and forth and look at pictures of farm animals.  She was really engrossed in this area.  She sat here in this one spot and slid the door back and forth several times.  Suddenly this little brute of a girl (ok not really- she was actually a regular girl about 2 years old or so) shoved my sweet, helpless, little baby out of the way so SHE could look at the pictures!  I debated on how to react, and decided I wanted to see what Alexa would do.  She kind of cried/ whined, looked at me, realized I was waiting to see what she was gonna do.  Then she pu

You need a little background info before I get started.  We're a butt smacking family.  It's true.  If one of us bends over, it's a target that must be hit.  We can be in separate rooms and instinctivily know that someone is bending over- and their butt must be smacked.  We're a tough loving family, what can I say?  So yesterday Doug had a prime opportunity and he took advantage of it.  Suddenly he says, "Where the butt?" I am confused.  The article "the" threw me off.  Did he mean, "Where's your butt?"  In that case, isn't he the greatest?!  Confirming what I hoped was happening with the running- my butt was shrinking.  I decided to play it coy. . . "What?" So he repeated himself, "Where's the butt?"  Playing it coy obviously didn't work. So I say, "Huh?  I have no idea what you're talking about!"  (I'll make him spell it out, my butt is getting smaller.) He says, "The but

This past week my two favorite, small friends and I went to visit Grammy and Poppy (AKA- my parents).  We were BUSY!  We visited with Aunt Kelly and Uncle Jonathan and Great Grammy, challenged everyone to a Just Dance 2 competition on the Wii, played, went for a walk, went to the Greenville Children's Museum, played some more, ate good food (one morning for breakfast we had pancakes with Pioneer Woman's Berry Butter, topped with berries, and topped that with Pioneer Woman's Maple Cream Sauce.  If you've never had Maple Cream Sauce you should.  There are not words for how completely divine it is.), read Pippi Longstocking, played, watched Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 1 (The kids were in bed for this adult treat), went shopping, went for a walk on the Cottonwood Trail, got ice cream, went to lunch at McDonalds, took several baths in Grammy's big jacuzzi tub, played with Andrew's friend from across the street on the Slip and Slide and in the blow up p

I have to say, I just love Alexa, Andrew, and Doug.  How could I not?  They're cute (or handsome), funny, smart, entertaining- the list could go on and on.  But here are some things that I have been particularly loving lately. Doug- I love that I can share my observations with Doug when I am people watching, and he doesn't tell me to behave myself, karma will get me, or that I should be kinder.  I love that he helps me find other people to observe that I might have missed.  I love that I can be myself, voice my thoughts (that aren't always nice) and he's not telling me to behave myself.  Oh sure there's way more I love about him, but that's definitely one thing I really love. Here's the tractor Andrew- I love that he knows- almost instinctively- how to press Doug's buttons perfectly.  Andrew can make Doug mad- simply by teasing him.  They can be sitting together watching NC State play football and suddenly Andrew will say- "I don't like

Every year for . . . I don't even know how many years now, we done the same thing on 4th of July.  I love this tradition.  It's one of my favorite traditions.  Every year, Doug gets up super early (and we all sleep a bit longer- except for this morning), goes to church and with the other men in the Men's Club- fixes a wonderful breakfast, saves us our spot on the parade route, we show up, eat breakfast, meet up with friends, socialize with all varieties of people, go to the carnival that the Boy Scouts organize across the street, and then come back and watch the parade.  I love this.  It's so perfectly American!  It's small town- and Indian Trail is not as small as it used to be.  The parade has antique tractors, sports teams, beauty queens, veterans, and varieties of businesses.  Here are some scenes from the parade today:  Andrew coming off the big slide.  Andrew trying his hand at the dunking booth Sitting on the back of Dad's truck waiting

Andrew woke up on the WRONG side of the bed apparently.  For whatever reason- everyone woke up early this morning (and let me assure you- from the moods that both are exhibiting- neither should have woken up early.) Alexa and I are sitting on the couch, I am watching the end of the local morning news.  I have- as silly as it sounds- been looking forward to watching this segment because the weatherman had a silly skit he was doing and the regular newscaster was back from maternity leave.  I was hoping she would share a picture or story of the baby.  Andrew walks into the room and screams, "Boo!"  at Alexa to scare her (his favorite past time is 'helping' Alexa improve her startle reflex), which gets Alexa all riled up and . . . needless to say I missed the last 10 minutes of the news -the only 10 minutes I had really wanted to see.  Oh well.  Then he sits down next to us- and wants to watch something he wants to watch.  And when I say, "Hold on- I want to see . .