The Latta Family

I may have admitted before, but I have a bit  of an issue with my imagination.  Just a small issue.  Nothing debilitating.  The problem really seems to flare up when Doug is out of town.  Suddenly, there are  werewolves  in the vicinity, or   possessed black cats .  I have made more than one phone call to my parents when Doug is out of town and something scary has raised up my hackles.  Wait . . . I call my parents?  Yes.  I call my parents.  I revert to my childhood self, and I call my parents.  No.  They don't live nearby.  They aren't going to drive an hour and a half and come save me from my imagination.   Are you wondering why I don't call Doug?  Well . . . he's not exactly helpful in these situations.  He brushes off my  irrational fears .  My parents help me make fun of myself, see the humor and unlikely event of Boogeyman busting in the house.  Last night . . . was one of those nights.  It was the perfect night for the Boogeyman to come out.  First- Doug is

I met up with a friend this morning.  We were talking about how accomplished we feel when we complete a task that would typically be a "husband" job in our house.  For example, she lives with 3 men/young men and she put the new grill together all by herself!  Whenever I use power tools I always feel like I am the bomb dot com.  I don't need Doug to show me how to use the miter saw.  I can use the drill, and even change the bits in and out.  I got this.  Last year, we came across an old wooden desk.  It's all wood.  I sanded it down.  Then when I got tired of that, I bought a safe chemical and chemically removed the stain and dirt.  Then we sanded some more and more and more and more.  Finally, this past week I put the finish on it.  Doug measured and it was going to fit exactly into the place near our tv.  I mean- not a smidge more or it wouldn't fit.  Doug is excellent at measuring.  He knows what all of the "ticks" on the tape mean.  I say things lik

Yesterday/Monday was the first day of the summer that my kids were actually together. I viewed it as the first "real" day of summer.  We had no guests, nothing special planned, it was a regular summer day. Andrew infuriated Alexa approximately 12 billion times, and she stomped to her room and slammed the door every time. Doug received a text at 4pm that I needed time away from the kids and when he got home- I would be taking it. Day 1. Day 1 I was so fed up and frustrated with them.  They were bored.  I had taken technology away (they can have an hour in the morning and an hour in the evening).  I was determined to not be the cruise director all day.  I did a few things- and then . . . they had to figure out how to entertain themselves on their own.  It's not unreasonable. I'm not responsible for their entertainment 16 hours a day. At 5:00pm they had both been sent to their rooms indefinitely. I just couldn't deal with them anymore. I had told Doug a few

Since Father's Day is tomorrow, this is a particularly relevant post about these two: I took this picture of them about 2 days ago.  They had spent several minutes watching someone attempt to devise a method to keep a door open.  They both watched the situation like it was the most fascinating movie.  You can't see their faces that clearly, so you can't see how similar they look.  But while they watched the person, I watched them.  And smiled.  They're so cute sometimes.   Later that day, Andrew and I were enjoying a treat at the local Snow-Ball Cabin (Alexa was at camp).  We were sitting at a picnic table and Andrew says, "Jeez.  Whoever built this table didn't know what they were doing!"  I had a hard time getting a good picture of this table- without Andrew knowing, so this isn't a good visual.  However- the 2nd board is lower than the 1st and 3rd board.  How many times have you sat at a picnic table and NOT noticed that the boards

I am hopefully buying a new car this summer.  HOPE.FULLY.  Doug keeps putting me off, but I'm pretty determined.  Why?  Well . . . in exactly 3 years we'll have another driver in our house.  And that potential other driver is pretty determined to drive- already.  With another driver, we'll have another car payment, and teenage boy insurance payments (which will be like a mortgage, from what I understand).  With all that to consider, we should get my car payment out of the way, so we're not going broke every month.  When you look at it that way . . . I have been thinking about this for months.  I started a spreadsheet of the cars I think I would like.  On the spreadsheet I compared each car: price, cabin size, gas mileage, engine information, and other details that are important to me.  I have done hours of internet research on each car, gathering the information, reading reviews, and marking cars off.  I'm pretty sure I know what car I want.  I've been check