The Latta Family

Somehow turning 40, seems like a bigger deal than turning 30.  Turning 30 didn't really fret me too much.  I'm not really upset that I am turning 40 next year.  I'm not trying to reverse the clock, consider plastic surgery, Botox my lips, have a midlife crisis, or other stuff like that. I think it seems like a big deal because I actually remember when my parents and their friends turning 40.  I remember thinking my parents were such adults (except for when that People magazine picture of Patrick Swayze diving into his pool, and supposedly a very specific part of his anatomy was sticking out of speedos.  I remember the Mom's sitting around laughing about that for awhile).  I don't think they laughed when people said, "Balls." (however, after recalling that Patrick Swayze event, they probably did, and I just didn't notice). I don't remember them being as dorky as I sometimes am. They seemed mature and responsible. Of course. . . they were my parent

I won't lie, this week has kicked my tail.  On Tuesday, I thought I had worked 2 days in one.  On Wednesday- I knew I worked 3 days in one, and today . . . well today, I am ashamed to say, today was exhausting.  I took a nap.  I ate peanut butter and jelly on toast, with chocolate milk for dinner. It kicked my tail so bad, that I fed my kids sandwiches with chips, and chocolate milk for dinner. I didn't have the energy to do anything else. Oh, sandwiches aren't so bad?  How about those sandwiches were made on white bread.  Yep.  Go ahead.  Judge. You know you want to.  I would. White bread is from the devil.  Why do we even have white bread in the house???  Doug used it in the breakfast casseroles he fixed for the FFA's faculty breakfast earlier this week.  The slices were leftover.  Andrew thought he was getting a treat.  White bread is a treat.  Bless him. I hope I step my game up tomorrow- and don't feed my kids sandwiches on white bread. This reminds me of

Every now and then I have a blood sugar drop.  It almost never happens, but when it does I become a raging, irrational lunatic. It's the most unusual feeling.  I feel so out of control, and ready to lash out verbally & physically at anybody.  I am waiting for a fight.  Seriously- I would be willing to brawl with anyone- I don't care how much bigger or more experienced at fighting they might be.  I could take them.  Try me. It happened tonight.  I left school, picked up my groceries, got Alexa, came home, walked the dog, put up the groceries, and then straightened up, while Alexa and I hung out.  Well, 5:30pm comes and goes.  I'm hungry, but Doug & Andrew are coming home with pizza, so I am going to wait.  I realize- when the dog starts really nagging me- what?!  It's 6:03!!!  Where the heck is Doug?!  I'm hungry! So I feed the dog.  I get the plate outs, the drinks ready, and try to call- no answer.  Now it's 6:15.  What the heck?  I call again.  Sti