The Latta Family

I have recently learned that Alexa loves Target.  As long as she can peruse the store to her heart's delight, she's completely delightful there.  She loves the Dollar Bin section, all the end caps around the cash registers, nail polish, the girl's clothing department, whatever.  Going to Target has become something that she and I like to do.  Here's an instagram view of our trek through the other day.  The Dollar bins used to be our favorite section, but the card section may have replaced that. She LOVED the card section, after she found the sound cards.  We hung here for 20 minutes. 

So a LONG time ago (11 years and 2 months) we moved into this house.  About a month after we moved in, I had Doug doing yardwork.  What can I say, I'm a tough overseer (I say overseer, because mostly I suggest things, participate a bit- and let Doug do the bulk of the work.  He's so much better at it than I am, which is my story and I am sticking to it).  The first thing we did was create a landscape area outside the living room windows.  During this project we transplanted a hydrangea bush.  For the next 9 years that stupid, stubborn bush refused to bloom.  Absolutely, and completely refused to bloom. It grew and grew and had the most lovely green leaves (probably from all that lovely fertilizer I put on it). The spring we had a contract on our house and were packing up to move out of it- the doggone, spiteful thing bloomed.  Only two little blooms, but they taunted me everytime I looked out the window at them.  They were winking at me cheekily.  I know it.  Well we certainl

I need to put a warning on this post, so that before you read this, you know: a middle school boy wrote this.  It was definitely not me.  I would never be so immature.  I saw this cool wreath for the front door on Pinterest, and decided it would be perfect for my house!  (if you don't want to read the version written by the middle school boy, check the link that I got this idea from: http://pinterest-project.blogspot.com/2012/04/swing-batter-batter.html .  This girl is surprisingly mature.)  The project begins like this: Me (to Doug): Hey, I saw this really cool idea on Pinterest, will you do it? Doug: (eye rolls, sigh of disinterest): What is it? Me: A wreath for the front door made of baseballs!!! Here look at this cool picture: Doug: (more sighing, but he went to the building and got a drill).  Hey, do you want me to bring in the bucket of clean balls or dirty balls?  (hahahahaha) Me: Dirty balls, definitely (hahahahaha) because then it looks more authentic, but let'

I could not have picked a worse time for Andrew to learn a lesson the hard way, since I am on a No Chocolate Challenge and in no way capable of handling this stress without some Dove Dark Chocolates.  I have resorted to beer in place of chocolate. I love Andrew.  He's one of the sweetest, most well behaved kids.  He's funny, he's smart, he's athletic.  He's great at getting Doug's goat.  He's a disorganized MESS!  Has been forever.  I foolishly assumed at the first signs of disorganization, that I was organized and controlling enough to combat his tendency towards disaster.  Well, guess what, I was WRONG!  Go figure, I am biting my words, when it comes to my children.  Lately I have realize that I do ABSOLUTELY everything for Andrew.  Seriously.  The kid shows up at the table and a meal or snack magically appears in front of him.  His book bag is alway ready, organized, cleaned out and ready for him every morning.  His towel, laundry, and room are picked