The Latta Family

You should know, if you don't by know, I am a weird person and I am cheap, sort of. I hate to spend money, except I will spend a bizarre amount of money on socks and hair products.  I mean- it's not really a bizarre amount- or maybe it is. I don't know.  The thing is- for someone who thinks $20 for a shirt is too much money- but thinks $15 for a pair of my favorite socks- is perfectly ok, is a bit mixed up.  I don't like to spend $20 on a shirt, but will gladly spend $30 on good conditioner.  WTH? Really?  Yes.  I'm a woman.  I make no sense.  It's my prerogative.  I am quirky.  What can I say? Alexa and I love to go to a store: Ulta.  I remember bringing her to Ulta for the first time when she was two years old.  Her hair was just starting to grow and I decided she needed good shampoo.  No department store shampoo was good enough for her hair.  For whatever reason, that particular day she also carried a pocketbook with her.  Many women stopped to make over m

If you notice that I am more quiet than usual, just assume it's the only way I can prevent myself from eating crow, putting my foot in my mouth, etc.  Honestly!  Things always sound so much funnier in my head.  I rarely take into consideration, how it will actually sound coming out of my mouth, and in other people's heads. If only I would . . . I wouldn't feel the lingering twinge of embarrassment, or buy $30 conditioning masks for my hair.   Here are two prime examples. This first example, is actually funny.  I mean- I felt bad at the time, but honestly . . . it's funny.  So . . . here I was in Wal Mart looking for Nose Strips for Doug.  This is before Andrew . . . so at least 10 years ago, but possibly longer.  There was a gentleman also standing near me.  We were both intently studying the Nose Strip options.  There were many.  I was there to replace the first set I had purchased. I had purchased the wrong size.  The gentleman near me, reached for a package of si

Let me tell you the story about this mug.  First, Doug hates this mug.  HATES it.  I feel certain he feels the same way about this mug, that the mom in "A Christmas Story" felt about that leg lamp.  I also feel sure, this mug is probably going meet its demise, accidentally, of course.  Which will bum me out.  I love it. My husband (that I love), and I went out- sans kids- to do some Christmas shopping.  We stopped by a Christian book store and received a coupon; if you spent a certain amount of money, we could receive a free mug.  Wouldn't you know- we did.  So I picked out a mug.  This mug.  This mug, that when I went to make the purchases, Doug refused to stand at the register with me, because he was embarrassed that I was buying such a lame mug.  I tried to find another mug, because it is a little silly, but honestly this one was my favorite.  I love the size of it.  It's big and chunky.  I love the handle and its position on the mug. I also really like the cur

I hate Christmas decorating.  There.  I said it.  Actually . . . truth be told.  I don't really like Christmas all that much.  There are parts I love.  Christmas Eve.  I like when we're sitting around all together eating our weird dinner, watching a movie together.  I like right after the kids go to bed and there is such a feeling of excitement for the next morning.  I like Christmas morning and the joy on my children's faces (especially this year- it's gonna be good!).  I like being with our families. I like 2 weeks of school off.  Yep- I added that.  I like Christmas movies and music.  I like how my house feels so cozy.  I can't wait to sing Christmas hymns or take cold walks looking at Christmas lights. I don't like the pressure. The pressure to have the best Christmas card, mailed out with our perfectly photographed and coiffed children.  I don't like the pressure of finding the perfect Christmas present. I don't like spending money, nor do I like

Way back 8 months ago, we finalized plans to go to Disney World.  Like the genius I am, I planned for us to take our first trip, with experienced Disney friends.  I am self-aware enough to know: planning ain’t my thang- chicken wang.  Sooooo, I asked our favorite travel friends, who are experienced Disney folks, if we could tag along the next time they went.  Thankfully they said we could (besides the fact it really helped us navigate our trip, we just had a really fantastic time). My friend did a great job staying on top of me to make reservations, buy our tickets, and research rides and shows we wanted to do, so she would be able to FastPass stuff we all wanted to do.  I would NEVER have done all of that on my own.  It’s SOOOOOO overwhelming.  Before we left for Disney, we were certain that this trip was the only one we were doing.  Doug called it our Two-Fer trip: we’re one and done .  (hahahaha that Doug.  He’s so funny.)  Since we’re only doing it once, we felt like we h

Kids.  They're a total mystery.  You think you have a handle on them, everything is going just like it should, when out of a nowhere  . . . BAM!  Crisis!!!!! I assumed Alexa would be the difficult one.  The hard one.  The one that required more parenting. And she's certainly had her moments, but frankly when it comes to discipline. . . she's not all that hard.  I just have to tell her I'm disappointed and make a sad face at her and . . . "BLAHHHHHH"  it's tears, and throwing herself down on the nearest object (or floor) and then we kiss and hug and it's over- (I am fully prepared for this to change).  Not Andrew.  His has to build and build and build and then suddenly it all has to come to a ginormous head, and I have to be Psycho Mom, with my guns blazing, handing out over- the- top, harsh punishments. Here's the situation.  For the past year we've been dealing with Andrew not applying himself like he should and could in school.  It's

I took Alexa with me on a walk.  I had originally planned for this to be a calorie burning walk, but I hadn't spent much time with her tonight, and so I brought her with me and the dog.  If listening to Alexa talk, burned calories, I could easily eat a guilt free ice cream sundae. Here are some of her reflections, in no particular order. 1. Gracie took care of her business pretty quickly into the walk.  Alexa exclaims, "Ewwww, Gracie's poop stinks!!!"  I said, "Well, Alexa- yours does too.  So does mine."  She says, "Yeah, Dad's and Andrew's does too.  You know, everybody (big gesture to the nearby houses) in our neighborhood has poop that stinks!" 2.  "Oh no!  This rock is away from it's family!"  So she picks up the rogue rock that has gotten away from "its family" and puts it back in the drive.  A few steps further and she says, "Oh!  This rock has gotten away from its family too!"  A few steps furt

I think I've told you this before, but when I was younger (heck- she still does it, when my siblings are being particularly annoying- not me though- I am never  annoying) my mother used to say, "I hate kids!"  Now that I am a mother, I know what she really meant, "Doggone, aggravating, pain in my rear end- KIDS!!!!!" Alexa, Doug, and I finished off some cookies in secret- while poor, deprived Andrew slaved over his vocabulary sentences one evening not too long ago, I figured I owed him a treat (in fairness- he has no idea he missed out on the cookies- as it was done in secret).  So, when I ran to the grocery store for the 50th time that week, I picked him up a treat of his choice: a Hershey bar. Since I told him I hoped rats wouldn't eat his face off for leaving trash around his room recently, he's been doing a great job getting all his wrappers and trash up in his room.  Except tonight- instead of getting the Hershey bar wrapper in the trashcan- he

Hello.  My name is Kate.  I am a control freak.  Rigid, drill sergeant, unrelenting, uncompromising control freak. Only about the things I care about though.  Don't bother me with things I don't care about, because then I become overwhelmed, flustered, and irritated. Good luck figuring out what I care about and what I don't. The things I do care about, look out because it's my way or the highway. It's starting to be a problem though.  Thank God I can laugh at myself.  It doesn't stop me from being rigidly controlling, but I can laugh at myself about it- sort of. Here are some examples: 1. Last year at Christmas we were packing up and putting away the Christmas decorations.  We use a fake tree that sheds it's needles.  It's like having a real tree, without all the good smells.  Doug decided he was going to "help" me vacuum.  I, unfortunately, had a cruddy vacuum and there was a very specific way one must go about vacuuming.  First, you had to

I'll share Doug's parenting wobble first.  That's just the kind of wife I am.  ;-) In case you are not aware- Doug is coaching Alexa's t-ball team this season.  Little anecdote about Alexa's t-ball prowess:  Her t-ball field is directly next to the softball field.  The softball teams have decided they need music to warm up.  The other night they were warming up, while Alexa's team was playing.  I looked over and she was dancing and singing so intently, she didn't notice the ball go right past her.  She didn't notice one of the other out fielders run up near her, get the ball, and throw it in. She had a game today.  Our association allows 2 coaches to be in the outfield with the players, to help keep them focused and "offer helpful suggestions, about how to handle a play."  Doug was in the outfield next to Alexa.  Around the 3rd inning, when it was our turn to go into the outfield, she says, "Mom- can't you come out there with me?!&

I discovered coffee a few weeks ago.  My dad and grandparents have always drunk it. My mom was a later on in life drinker (hahaha!! . . . that could be many things, but in this case, just coffee).  My brother and sister drink it.  I've always liked the smell of it.  I've always thought the idea of a toasty hot beverage was lovely, but then I tasted it, and P U K E!!!!!!  It was awful and gross and disgusting!  Oh sure, I could have done a cappuccino, frappuccino, or some other coffee confection- but if I was going to have a glorified milkshake, I might as well just have, well, a milkshake because I know I like those! People have suggested that I should drink coffee because I am NOT a morning person.  At all.  I can get up, get moving, and be productive- but do NOT try to interact with me.  I co-taught with a lady for a couple of years.  After 4 semesters of working together, we finally co-taught in the afternoon.  At the end of the semester, she said, "You know- I used t

Four years ago, I brought this baby to a t-ball field. I brought a stroller, a carrier, a diaper bag full of diapers, wipes, bottles, and formula.  I held her a lot.  I remember standing and rocking and holding her.  I also remember changing a lot of diapers.  Seven months later and a new t-ball season, I brought this cutie pie to the t-ball field: I think I brought a blanket, a diaper bag full of toys, puffs, diapers, and wipes.  I think I held her a lot and bounced.  Six months later, I brought this funny girl:  Time passed and I brought this girl, that would head butt the concrete, until her head bled, when she didn't get her way.  I brought a wagon full of toys, snacks, and entertainment, in addition to the diaper bag and all that gear.   Even more time passed, and we moved to a new field where her brother cried and struck out and said he'd never play again.  She thankfully had stopped head banging the concrete, and even would talk to people- sometim

I have stinky car issues.  I always have.  The other day we got in the car and O.M.G!!!!!  I thought something literally crawled up in there and died.  It was awful.  We had to drive with the windows open. Since I am experienced with stinky car issues, I am getting pretty "stinking" smart with how to deal with them. It all started back in high school.  I am NOT complaining about my high school car because: I had one, I didn't have to pay for it, the gas, or the insurance on it.  So- I am not complaining. However- the year and model of the car, enhance the story.  I had a 1981 Mercury Cougar.  It was 13 years old.  It had a LOT of miles on it.  The ceiling was coming down on me- and was stapled to the roof.  It looked a lot like this, except I think I remember it having 4 doors. Oh man, the things I did in that car.  If my mother is reading this- she should prepare to be shocked.  There were holes burned into the carpet behind the driver seat where I attempted to smo

Alexa got a new big girl bike for her birthday a few weeks ago.   Lord, she's been a maniac on that thing.  I won't lie- I have hovered a bit, because I am afraid she'll wipe out and then never get back on it again.  Plus, she's got my "grace" with Doug's affinity for accidents, she's a disaster waiting to happen.  So anyway, she's really improving on it and she LOVES to go fast!  She also likes to turn her head and talk to us- which results in a wild veer off into the grass, then her legs fly out to the sides and she's shrieking, "HELP!!!"  (I'm no help, because I laugh- every single time!) The other day we were walking the dog, Alexa was riding her bike, and Andrew was running up and down the street, dribbling the basketball.  He suddenly says, "Alexa, wanna race home?!"  So they go tearing off down the street.  Half way down, Alexa stops turns to me with the saddest face and says, "I can't beat him! My feet

There is a very friendly, kind, neighborly older gentleman who lives in my neighborhood.  He's the kind of neighbor you like to know is around because he knows all the gossip.  Who's moving, who's staying, who's got troublesome teenagers, who's got a husband in and out . . . you get it.  He's like the neighborhood watch. He's also . . . really really talkative.  Like I said, he's a very nice man, but . . . I am ashamed to say, I avoid him like the plague.   Once he gets going . . . you cannot get away, until he's updated you on all the neighborhood drama, like "Mrs. Claus is moving away, which is a good thing, because I've been mowing her lawn for the last 8 years.  I don't mind, but my wife tells me I need to start slowing down.  I don't think I do. I mean, I might be 75, but I forget and think I am 60.  That's why I walk everyday, it keeps me young.  Plus you know I go bowlin' a couple of days, and then of course, I go to t

I have this one re-occurring nightmare.  It's not often.  It's not even all that scary.  However, if I have it . . . then I wake up with a racing heart and an uneasy feeling. The dream goes like this: I am lost in Charleston, SC.  I'm trying to get somewhere (the destination is always different), and I'm late.  If you've ever been to Charleston, then you know- there are like a hundred different ways to get to your destination. The trouble is, I always pick the route that takes me over the scary bridge. I try so hard not to pick that one, but it seems like every time, I manage to get the scary bridge.  It's a 2 lane bridge, with tons of traffic.  There is no barrier between the two narrow lanes of traffic heading in opposite directions.  There is also no barrier to keep you from going off the side. And of course, it's a really steep uphill.  Like- 100 stories tall.  It's like a roller coaster- but in your car, on a high up bridge, with scary traffic and

The other morning I was listening to a radio morning show, discussing the most popular “Guilty Pleasure Songs” based on a recent survey on Spotify.  I was in Heaven while they played clips from all the songs- because they were all my guilty pleasure songs too!  “Apple bottom jeans, boots with the fur . . . “  Classic.  Anyway, this evening I was driving home in some serious traffic congestion.  We had 2 cars: the boy car and the girl car.  The girl car decided to entertain themselves by having a “Sing Along Party to . . . Princess Songs!!!!!!”  It got me to thinking about what guilty pleasures I have with each of my family members.  Alexa: 1. I can be totally silly and girly with her.  The girlier- the better.  Want to do crafts?  Only if there’s lots of glitter and pink and purple.  Want to go for a bike ride?  Only if we put on all of our prettiest jewels.  Something isn’t quite right?  Throw yourself on the floor in an emotional heap!   2. I can sing along to princess songs

I never used to understand what that phrase meant, until recently.  There's a war that goes on in my house.  I bet it goes on in yours too.  It's called . . . "The Clutter War."  I might win a battle here and there, but overall, I am losing the war.  Miserably.  I am a Feng Shui person, living with pack rats.  All of them.  Even the dog (she's just as bad as the kids about leaving her toys all over the house). At one time I thought Alexa would be my partner in this war against clutter.  She's a complete disappointment. She's one of the worst offenders of the group!  I find her stuff EVERYWHERE!!!  She likes to just kick her shoes off right as she walks in the house- right in the middle of the doorway. The other day I thought I just might lose my mind- but before I went on a cleaning rampage, I photographed the clutter to share it with you: This is my mantle- covered in 4 year old birthday party supplies, and material to make a blanket for my nephew,

I met up with a college friend earlier this summer and she put words to many things I had been feeling lately, but hadn't thought of the words to go along with them.  One of the wisest, and most true things she said, was the biggest trouble she faced as being a parent, is that her introvert self, was forced to be somewhat of an extrovert. I understood her completely. Well, somewhat so. I'm not a complete introvert, I'm a teacher.  I like to be the center of attention in my classroom. I like being the entertainer. However, once I leave school- I require downtime. I require a significant amount of time to unwind and gather myself.  As my children get older, I am forced to be more extroverted- not only because they require more interaction with me, but also because we hang out with their friends and families a lot more now. Doug is under the misguided impression that during the summer, I lay around all day and do nothing.  This is somewhat of an issue for us every summer.

I was finally able to convince Andrew that Harry Potter is AWESOME and we have been listening to it for the last few months.  It's taken us awhile to get through the first two.  However, I finally figured out that we can listen to it on cd's we get from the library.  Oh how lovely it is to listen to the reader's British accent for chapters at a time.  It has most definitely sped up the process for us (I love JK Rowling, but she's really detailed and I would get tired of reading before Andrew was tired of listening).  I LOVE listening to this with Andrew. I love experiencing it through his eyes. Andrew and I had taken the dog for a walk along one of the local greenways the other day and after frolicking in the creek, he comes to me and says totally out of the blue, "I know Harry Potter is fiction."  The part of me that wishes Harry Potter is real, and that I'll be getting my letter from Hogwarts any day now, was a bit sad for him.  The boring, teacher, ad

I must warn you, this post is going to be NEGATIVE.  Negative Nancy invaded my house and wrote this. Do you know what the fun cart is?  You don't.  Probably because you realize that thing is straight up from the Devil Himself and there ain't nuthin' fun about that aggravating pain the a$$ and so you are smart enough to never use it.  That didn't clear it up for you?  Here's a picture. Ooooh.  The "Fun Cart." I HATE the "Fun Cart."  H. A. T. E. it.  Alexa LOVES it.  When she sees one, she runs screaming to it, "IT'S THE FUN CART!!!!! YEAH!!!!!"  Why do I let her use it?  Because she's spoiled rotten.  The whole time I am pushing that horrific thing through the store, I am cursing it silently in my head.  I am thinking sarcastic comments about it. Why do I hate this type of cart so much?  There hard as pooh to steer, for one thing.  It's a whole body work out. Try turning that thing around a tight corner, or try to

After my brother was born, my grandmother came to stay with us for a week or so, while my mom adjusted to a newborn.  I don't remember a whole lot about that visit, but I do remember 2 things: she introduced me to "Days of Our Lives" which paved the way for my mom continuing to let me watch it (and then watching it for me, and updating me when I got home from school.  I was 11 years old.  What was my mother thinking?!), and she made me the BEST most fabulous, special dessert.  I'm feeling particularly nostalgic about this dessert this summer, because this is the first summer I can't call and thank her for introducing me to such a wonder. What the heck is that loveliness?  It my friends, is a peach parfait.  While the ingredients are simple, the brands used, and the amounts are pretty specific.  First you need perfect peaches.  Dice them up.  Next you need a special glass.  Then you need Breyers Vanilla ice cream.  It absolutely must be Breyers, and vanilla be

I have debated on whether this is an appropriate spot to say I'm taking a new teaching position.  After thinking about it, I decided I wanted people who I worked with to know, but it felt self absorbed to send it in an email because what if people I thought would care, don't care at all?  Then how did I decide which people would actually be interested?  Then I decided I would just put it on the blog, because I have a lot of guilt about this decision and maybe by putting it "on paper" I would come to terms with it. So . . . yes I changed schools and jobs.  Why?  It seemed like I really liked my job. I do. I did.  However, there was one part of the job I didn't like. Last year it became more and more apparent.  I was totally isolated.  I was an island unto myself.  My students were self contained, and so was I.  The loneliness was too much.  I walked into my classroom every morning at 7:20am and that's where I stayed until 2:55pm.  I didn't have a planning

I had a big list of movies that I was going to watch this summer.  What have I watched . . . "Walking Dead." What am I a bit obsessed with?  "Walking Dead."  What is the best show and I can't get enough of?  "Walking Dead"- obviously. I have no idea what has attracted me about this show.  Typically I'm more of a . . . Hallmark Channel sort of girl.  I like the happy ending.  I like the love.  I like the . . . clean characters.  From the first episode, "The Walking Dead" caught me and I couldn't quit it.  It's rare for a show to maintain my attention for as long as "The Walking Dead" has.  I think some of it is the characters.  Particularly two. Michonne, who I am planning to be just like.  I am going to use those kattans and take out some serious zombies.  Those zombies won't want a piece of me.  The other character I love, is Daryl.  What do I love about Daryl? So much. But particularly his arms.  What?!  Yep.  Hi

You have heard me reference Lovey a time or two on Facebook and here on the blog.  It's time some questions were answered about ole' Lovey.  What is Lovey? That square blanket with the ribbon tags is Lovey.  Oh Lovey, how we love you.  You have been the soother of all emotional and physical troubles.  You have calmed the beast, aka Alexa, when no one or nothing else would or could.  You've been around for awhile:  Here Lovey is with Alexa when she's around 1 year old Here's Lovey when Alexa is around 2 years old (they're watching fireworks) Here is Lovey on the first day of 3 year old pre-school Alexa got Lovey from a lady we went to church with.  It was an almost instant attachment.  Lovey has been through the ringer.  About 6 months ago, Doug went to check on Alexa before he went to bed, and discovered she had one of the ribbons wrapped around her finger- almost cutting the circulation off (thank goodness he went in!).  He cut all the rib