The Latta Family

We have been traveling up and down I-85 the past few days and while on the road, we have some seen some interesting folks.   Like this one: I mean, really dude?  The real question here is: does canoeing really make him horney or is that a reference to a movie?  And, according to my computer, "horney" is misspelled.  Is that on purpose, or is he driving around with this bumper sticker misspelled to be ironic, or because he doesn't have a clue?  I think the sexy lady in the left corner is super cool too.  I bet this guy picks up all kinds . . . of ladies cruisin' in this truck. The other truck we saw, was even more interesting and yet too frightening to actually take a picture.  As the truck passed us, I happened to notice the stickers.   I commented to Doug, "Yikes! What's up with that car?!"  He said, "Yeah, the license plate on the front was pretty weird too, it said, "Cannibal."  WHAT??????  Doug sped up to pass him, so I cou

I've started this blog before and abandoned it because I didn't have enough evidence and I didn't know how to write this without people thinking I am being politically incorrect, a jerk, or insensitive.  But the more I think about it, the more clear it's becoming to me.  Here's my disclaimer: I am not being a jerk to anyone. I don't mean anything I say to hurt feelings. Lately I am starting to think I am either: turning into an old fart or a Special Needs person.  I am developing some very rigid personality characteristics.  They say the longer you teach in the Special Needs area, the more you develop their characteristics.  So maybe I'm not an old fart. Evidence #1: For awhile at the beginning of the school year, I ate lunch in the cafeteria where I could keep an eye on my students.  I have since stopped, they're high school students, they deserve independence. Although, they don't really have it because there are several administrators in there

Andrew was asking some hard questions tonight.  Thankfully NOT the "Where do babies come from?"  "Is Santa real?" variety!  They were more thought provoking like, "Who is the person who has been the meanest to you?" (Doug- he fluffs the covers after I'm burrowed down in them, and then lets in huge wafts of cold air and I have to get them all settled again the way I want them.  It's quite an ordeal)  "Who's been the nicest?" (Doug again.  He puts up with a lot) and then finally, "What is the most generous thing you've ever done?"  I immediately thought of this one particular time . . .  except then I answered Andrew with, "Huh. That's a hard one, because what may have been really generous to me, may not have been to the other person."  So I explained with this story. I was in maybe 8th or 9th grade, which meant my sister was in maybe 3rd or 4th grade.  I am 100% certain my sister does not remember this sto

It's a good thing I can laugh at myself.  I mean, it frequently puts others at ease, but mostly I put my own self at ease.  Like tonight.  Doug's out of town.  He traveled on a charter bus with 45+ teenagers and 6+ adults to Louisville, KY for the National FFA Convention. Last night I said, "Doug do you have any idea how much I HATE the National Convention." "Yes, Kate.  I know." "But do you know why I HATE the National Convention?" "Yes, dear.  I know you hate it because the Boogey Man is going to come get you, while I'm gone." "YES!  That's exactly why!  Plus this year is even worse because it's over Halloween!!!!  And that means I'll have to give the dog one final walk, in the dark, on Halloween night, all by myself!!!!!" "I'm sorry dear."  (I'm pretty sure he's not sorry at all.  His tone of voice indicated that he thinks I am over reactive and dramatic, as if you can imagine that

You should know, I have blogs that roll through my head all the time.  But it's only the really good ones that I share.  Or not. Before you read any further, you should know this blog is not going to be appropriate.  At all.  It is not.  If you're not comfortable with talking about masturbating- stop now.  If you think this topic is hilarious- read on.  You're in for a . . . treat.  ;-) My parents have had a bummer week and called me to entertain them (uhhh, what could my parents and masturbating possibly be doing in a story together?!  Read on, it's not scary, I promise!).  I happily obliged. I entertained them with stories of their grandchildren first, and then I remembered the Special Ed teacher meeting I went to on Tuesday.  I had to share that story because it's too funny and it definitely entertained them and you too. I was not happy to be at this meeting. I mean, it was after school for one thing.  The other thing is I was massively delayed in letting m

I personally think I have the best teaching gig.  I don't really have a curriculum that I have  to follow. Therefore, I have the ability to be creative.  That is one thing about the direction of education in the last decade, there is hardly no creativity allowed.  Especially at the elementary level- they're teaching what the district tells them and how the district tells them to teach it.  They want consistency.  Remember that when you're complaining about what your kid is learning- the teacher isn't choosing that, the teacher is being directed to do that.  So anyway. . . back to the purpose of this email (that was just a side tangent).  I am supposed to teach my students life lessons, which means we get to cook.  We LOVE to cook!  Last year we cooked weekly.   We got started back this week.  When I asked the kids what they wanted to fix, someone said "Sloppy Joe's!"  and everyone enthusiastically agreed.  I can't remember ever eating a Sloppy Joe, but

The brain is so weird.  The way neurons fire is so random.  You just never know the direction your thoughts are going to go. I was standing in the kitchen this afternoon, fixing myself a snack.  A peach in cottage cheese.  Man do I love a fresh, juicy peach in some cottage cheese.  It brought me back to right after Alexa was born.  For weeks after she was born I had the most absurd craving for fresh peaches in cottage cheese.  I thought it was the most fantastic thing EVER! This memory made me wonder, why was it after I had a baby that I had these intense cravings?  It made me think I must have needed the protein or something.  Which made me think, why?  For reasons I will not get into, I did not breast feed my children.  This lead to a memory from after Andrew was born. A few days after I had Andrew, I became a "bit" engorged with all the unused milk I had.  Someone said that I could relieve the discomfort, by putting frozen cabbage leaves inside my bra.  Folks, Rolai

I was watching NCIS one night this week and a character on the episode was complaining about the fact that kids don't get to have unsupervised play time anymore.  I have no idea what the rest of the episode was about, but I remember that line.  It's true.  Which is good and bad. Once baseball was over this summer, Andrew became depressed.  He didn't have exposure to constant friends.  He was stuck with sporadic play dates with friends, and me and his sister.  (I'm pretty sure Alexa and I are not all that fun to an 8 year old boy).  Then one evening, there were some kids having races up and down our street.  We knew about the kids, but quite frankly my previous experiences with them were odd and as a result, I have not encouraged a friendship. The first time we met them was when Andrew was 4 years old. Randomly one afternoon, this boy shows up in our driveway wanting to play.  Turns out he lived on our street.  So, Andrew and this boy played in the yard, and then dri

I decided today I'm going to change my tune.  I'm going to try really hard to be "the glass is half full" with Alexa.  We had a bit of a rough, late afternoon.  And while I was sitting on the couch, trying really hard not to lose my temper while I ignored her antics, I got to thinking, "I never say or think anything positive about Alexa."  For real.  How many negative Facebook posts have I made?  Today, every encounter I had with an outside person commenting on something positive about her, I came back with a negative experience.  The other day someone asked me, on a scale of 1- 100, how hard was Alexa, I said, "99."  There was no hesitation.  Andrew and Alexa were both present for that discussion.  The more I talk about her negative qualities, the more she will live up to them.  I'm going to practice reverse psychology- on her and myself.   It's time.  I mean, I started a positive behavior system with her that works- some, I need to change

Last summer my crew and I were at the beach with some good friends, when the adults all agreed, "You know, this whole vacation would be a lot more fun without kids!"  Then we said, "Hey, it'd be even more fun if we went somewhere super cool!"  So we planned an all inclusive vacation at an adults only resort, with a swim up bar. When I told people Doug and I were going to Mexico they were always surprised.  We don't vacation much and I'm not much for leaving my kids.  Quite frankly, I'm surprised I did this too. Before we went, I had a million concerns: some sort of national crisis that would shut down airports and I wouldn't be able to get back to my children, I'd get sick (not Bubonic Plague sick, Strep throat sick) and there wouldn't be an on site doctor and I'd have to feel awful the entire time, I'd forget something important, my parents would get sick, my children would get sick, I'd be terribly homesick for them, etc.

I have to take a bit to brag about Andrew today.  It’s my blog and I’m allowed to brag about my kid.  Plus, I want this to be part of his memories.  One day when he’s old and he wants to swap “war” stories about awesome things he’s done- this one is going down in the books.  I’ve talked about how Andrew’s playing baseball this summer.  He was lucky enough to be chosen to play for our rec league’s 7u All Star team.   He loves this part of baseball.  He loves palling around with the boys.  He loves playing the games.  He loves practice.  He doesn’t hate the practices where they run bases almost the whole time.  He doesn’t hate the tournaments when they play 3 games back to back.  He just loves baseball and being part of a team.    Tonight his team won the Western North Carolina State Tournament for his age division.  Talk about a proud parent moment.  I mean, to be part of a state winning team?!  Not everyone can claim that.  I certainly can’t.  Not only was he part of t

Obviously I'm lucky for my parents in lots of ways, but especially today! This weekend is Andrew's All- Star State Tournament.  We did this last year, in the thriving metropolis of Marion, North Carolina.  You've never heard of it?  Don't worry, the only thing you're missing is a good bbq restaurant and an ice cream place. This tournament is not for the weak.  Last year, Andrew's team played in 106 degree heat. Surprisingly it wasn't that bad.  The parents all worked hard to keep the boys hydrated with lots of water, Gatorade, and wet rags we kept in a cooler.  Alexa lived off Jell-O, water, and yogurt.  It was like Heaven for her.  Not only was the heat oppressive, but . . . you're there for the long haul.  You're watching/playing 2 games back to back.  It's no easy feat to watch/play 2 games back to back like that.  Plus, the pressure of . . . if you lose two times, you're out.. Especially if you've never done it before.  Now that A

Recently the New Kids on the Block, 98 Degrees, Boy Band summer concert came to Charlotte.  My sister and I were texting about it.  We agreed that, while neither of us were that into those bands, we felt like we were missing out on something fun.   It's hard to believe that I wasn't that in to those bands, my family won't believe it.  They've always made fun of my horrible music taste.  Ok, some of my choices aren't that great (Britney Spears for example), but mostly I just have weird taste.  I will jam out to Black Sabbath and then the next song I'm singing along to the Indigo Girls.   When I was in first grade, I was in love with . . . Neil Diamond.   This Neil Diamond.  The one with the sparkly shirt and satin scarf.  I wanted his record for Christmas.  I probably listened to it a thousand times.  "Cracklin' Rose" and "Song Sung Blue" are 2 of my favorite songs- still, to this day.  Back then I loved "America" too.

The other day I read a post by my favorite blogger,  The Pioneer Woman .  I just love her.  First, her style of writing is hilarious.  Second, she lives out in Oklahoma on a cattle ranch, and her husband often describes the work they do.  It fascinates me. So the other day she wrote a post about the differences between she and her husband.  I love when she writes about her husband.  She reminds me of . . . myself.  She feels psychotically competitive with her husband- like I do with Doug.  He always beats me, but I have these lofty dreams of one day defeating him. She appreciates some of the same physical characteristics about her husband, that I do of mine.  And she has a good sense of humor about him. Her post got me to thinking about the difference between Doug and I.  I got inspired.  So here's what I've got: 1. Doug is a worker.     I am not.     (for example, say- one kid is at camp, and the other is down for a nap.  I would probably lay    down to take a nap myself

Some of my most fabulous parenting moments, I have stumbled into accidentally. I stumbled into a genius one recently. On the last day of school, we went to the library.  Andrew stocked up on his current favorite series ( 39 Clues-  for anyone in the middle to upper elementary level- is fantastic.  Boys, and girls, will both like it. It's basically a scavenger hunt with lots of adventure, but a little information about famous, important historical figures thrown in as well. They're well written and exciting), and Alexa found a few books too.  One book that has become our current favorite, and I will probably buy, is "When Sophie Gets Angry- Really, Really Angry . . . " by Molly Bang. From the first moment we read it, Alexa loved it.  I read it every night and at least once during the day too. It's about Sophie having to share a toy with her sister and she doesn't want to.  She has a temper tantrum, and the book describes how Sophie deals with her anger.  

I don't really do New Year's resolutions because . . . the actual new year is in August.  I make my resolutions then: I'll cook healthy dinners for my family all year, I'll make sure Andrew has a healthy, cool lunch with a special note in it everyday, I'll never get behind on paperwork, my lesson plans will be ultra creative and awesome everyday. I also do summer goals: I'm going to exercise like a beast!  I'm going to keep my house perfectly clean.  I'm going to provide quality, life enhancing experiences to my children every day. This summer I hope my goals are a little more realistic.  To try and keep me honest- I'm making them public. Here goes: 1. Try to keep the junk food at a minimum, by planning for snacks and breakfast (my two weak moments of the day) 2.  We won't be slugs on the couch. 3. Andrew and I will read 4 out of 7 days for 30 minutes. 4. We will practice random acts of kindness, I have a list . . . somewhere. 5. We

Today a student delivered a present to me.  I love it!  One particular part of the gift I love is a small, simple bracelet.  Typically I do not like jewelry with words on it.  I think the words tend to be cliche'.  However, these particular words (which normally would be very cliche' to me) are a perfect mantra for me this summer.  One of my summer goals is to chill out. I don't mean lay around and do nothing, I mean, be less intense.  It's not all schedules, routines, and planning ahead.  It's not freaking out because my kids are driving me crazy with fighting, demands, and life in general.   One of the words on the bracelet is "peace."  Perfection for my summer goal.  I aim to have inner peace and tranquility.  It's a lofty goal for me, but . . . I can work on it. I failed miserably tonight. We went to get Andrew back from Nana's, where he's been the last couple of days.  I've missed him terribly (Doug wonders how I will leave my chil

Doug's always said, "Our kids are not going to have horses!  They're a money pit!!!"  He bases this on observations. People believe me- never say never with your kids.  NEVER.  Don't say, "My kid won't act like that!" or "My kid won't do that."  or "My kid will never like that."  Those words are the kiss of death!  I said, "Alexa will never like princesses."  She loves princesses.  I'm using them as bribery for potty training.  So Doug saying, "Our kids are not going to have horses . . . " well he did it to his own self. We went to see Aunt Janet's new horse today.  When we told Alexa we would go see Moonshine, she was so excited!  She was gonna see Aunt Janet's and Abbie's (her cousin) horse!  When she got there, Moonshine was trotting around the pen.  Alexa was a little nervous, she got over it quick. When Aunt Janet asked if she wanted a turn riding, there was no hesitation,

Ever since Alexa arrived on our scene, Andrew has claimed that a little brother would be better.  I have been unable to convince him that sometimes little brother's can be real pain in the rear ends too.  He's insisted, a little brother would be WAY better, until last night . . . Last night we went with our rec league to the Charlotte Knight game.  There were lots of parents, coaches, and kids that we knew.  We sat in front of a couple of brothers from another team.  They were 8 years old and . . . maybe 6?  The little brother was bugging the hell out of his big brother.  He wasn't doing anything, that any other little brother has never done before.  At one point, he was dropping ice cubes down his big brother's shirt.  There was a LOT of tattle tailing going on.  I was laughing.  (Other kids misbehavior is always funnier than when it's your own kids.) At one point, Andrew leans over and whispers, "Man, they're doing a lot of fighting!"  I replied,

Folks, I must really like the way my foot tastes because I sure do eat it a LOT.  The other day a lady stops to talk to me about Alexa's curls.  She thrills my vain, shameful soul and says, "I just love her sweet curls!  I just want to touch them!"  I smiled and said, "I understand.  I love them too.  However, I am fully prepared for her to break my heart one day and cut them, or color them some weird color, or some other atrocious act."  The lady smiles understandingly, and points to a teenaged girl standing next to her with teal colored hair, "You mean like this?"  Doh!

Thirteen years ago, I doubt Doug and I imagined a rainy Sunday morning with kids racing around the house with Hulk hands, screaming and tackling each other, sticky with syrup from our waffles at breakfast.  On this day 13 years ago, Doug proposed.  Lord, it took him forever.  I don't know why- I prove continuously how delightful I am.  ;-) We had dated for well over a year.  Again, I don't know what the hold up was.  I knew within two weeks of hanging out with him, I needed to look no further, he was It.  Looking back, I am glad we dated for awhile.  We both knew what we were getting into.  We knew I was a neat freak, Doug . . . not so much, we knew how each other grieved (or did not- in my case), we knew how we handled stress, we knew how we made big purchases (I buy immediately, Doug takes over a year to decide). As far as I know, the biggest surprise after we got married was, I was not a morning person.  Doug wakes up & loves life.  He wants to have deep conversations

Andrew has recently begun to act more aggravating than I am capable of sanely dealing with.  Alexa will be playing quietly (really) and some random, testosterone driven compulsion will over take him, and he'll run in and scream "BOOOOO" at her, until she's screaming like a banshee and then he'll walk away as though nothing just happened.  Alexa will jump up and run in to tattle on him, "ANDREW SCARED ME!!!"  (thanks- I couldn't tell- by the abrupt and violent end to our peaceful moment).  Or yesterday evening I was bending over planting some plants and he sneaks up behind me, and smacks me on the rear.  (I have perhaps confessed before, we're a bottom smacking family, the trouble is- Andrew is starting to smack hard.  It really hurts.  Smacks that hurt, are just simply unacceptable.  Smacks for fun . . . totally cool.) This morning Doug was sitting on the couch eating his cereal.  Andrew ran to the couch, just before Doug sat down, knocked th

One day last week Andrew informed me he needed to start wearing a cup when he was at practice or games.  I feel like this topic, is one for his father.  I am no expert on what constitutes wearing a cup or what situation demands a boy to wear one.  I know it is recommended, but let's face it, this generation has no fun for all the safety precautions we're always taking for them.  I suggested Andrew talk to his Dad about it.  I don't know if he did or not, but I am guessing he did not.  For whatever reason, we happened to have a spare cup just laying around (actually it was in Doug's coach's bag.  I had to buy it last spring, in case the tournament Andrew was playing in, insisted on him wearing one).  Andrew discovered it on Sunday and has been driving me crazy with it since. He spent the better part of the afternoon saying, "Hey Mom, throw this ball at me, so I can see if this cup works!"  WHAT?!!!  Who does that?!  Ok.  I know who does that.  Boys.  No

As I was fixing dinner tonight, I was thinking back on all the dinners I've fixed since Friday and became a bit mortified.  I am so mortified, I'm going to blog about it- and hope my mother and mother in law don't read this post, plus a few other people.  They'll be appalled.  And rightfully so. In the spring, we're like lots of people: busy.  School work is mounting as end of the year responsibilities pile up for teachers.  Doug has several extra curricular activities.  Andrew has extra curricular activities.  There's school programs and celebrations.  Oh yeah, yard work, cleaning the house, laundry, parenting . . . the list goes on.  So in the spring, I have to be willing to let things slide a bit.  I am not willing to let the house slide, I can't stand for it to get messy and disorganized.  I don't let the laundry slide, I hate giant piles of laundry, plus waking up to find I have no clean underwear.  I don't let the yard slide . . . too much.

There is no possible way for me to make you understand how much my class, myself, and the assistants LOVE this field trip.  We start looking forward to next year's prom, on the way back from today's.  Let me explain what it is: the Key Club from one of the school district's high school's; plans and puts on a prom for seven of the high school Special Needs classes throughout the district.  It ends up being about 70- 80 Special Needs students.  They hire a dj, a local church allows us to use their fellowship hall, they decorate, and serve us lunch.  We get there about 10am and leave around 12:45.  It is quite honestly my most favorite 2 hours and 45 minutes of the year, and I am not alone.  It's awesome from the moment they walk in the classroom that morning.  They are so cute to each other.  They rave about how good they each look, and brag about their cool tie, nice dress, or new haircuts.  I like to sit back and just listen to them on this morning. It sort of h