The Latta Family

Doug and I are just a "little" competitive with one another.  I have no idea why.  For the most part, he's smarter than I am, more athletic than I am, and stronger than I am.  That doesn't exactly leave me in a good position to win often, but what I lack in those areas, I more than make up for in sheer determination to beat him.  I don't just want to beat him, I want to DESTROY him.   We are Trivia Crack addicts.  I LOVE Trivia Crack.  Actually- I LOVE playing Doug at Trivia Crack.  If we went back and counted all the many games we have played with each other, I have won more.  This is the only thing I can beat him at.  I attribute my liberal arts college education: Art History classes, English classes, and my love of Pop Culture are no match for his sports knowledge. On Tuesday he beat me.  He destroyed me: 6-1 in 2 rounds.  I got a very rude text from him to let me know: "Get some of that 6-1 in the first round!!! Who's you...

Alexa proves all the time- why she's the last child.  I mean- mostly she's the last child, because that's our plan, but she's also the last because: 1. I'm almost 40 years old. I'm tired. I didn't know infants could be like Alexa.  I didn't know 2 year olds could be like Alexa.  I know now.  I'm too tired to go through that again.  I can't be guaranteed I'd get an easy going infant and a less temperamental two year old. 2. I know colic is real.  Before Alexa- I foolishly thought it was a made up ailment by over dramatic mothers.  Karma showed me how foolish I was.  I got my payback.  No worries. 3. The Terrible Two's were . . . terrible.  It's frightening to consider going through that again. 4.  And most of all:  she's a DARE DEVIL. Today, she came and showed me a stuffed animal that I had forgotten about.  I thought it was weird that she had it.  I hadn't seen it in years, but . . . who knows, it could h...

When Doug and I first got married, we did a TON of projects together.  Landscaping, painting, kitchens, flooring, etc.  The worst project was by far the tile project.  We are typically not one for screaming fights. . . however, tile unfortunately, brought the psychos out of us.  When we finished that dreaded job, we figured out the problem: Doug is always the foreman, and I am the go-fer (you know, go- for this tool, go- for that board, etc)- except for tile.  It was a confusing moment. Doug didn't have the patience to be the foreman, and weirdly . . . I did.  So while we struggled through a role reversal, we fought. Since we've had kids, we haven't done projects like we used to. Obviously we have less time, plus the house was kind of how we wanted it, although we are in discussions for some more projects coming up- (none will be tile, and if they were I'd pay somebody to do it and it would be worth every stupid penny). We're talking about doing something...

This one is sort of for my parents, but feel free to read, because it'll entertain you as well. This all started way back in high school.  See, I wasn't the most motivated student.  I wasn't flunking out or anything like that, but I hung out in the "B/C" area.  Looking back (and realizing how smart I am now) I probably could have done way better- if I would have been just put forth some effort. Pretty much the story of . . . lots of high schoolers. So anyway, one day I arrive at the dinner table and I make a big announcement.  It's a very dramatic moment because that's what I did back then (not now.  Now I am never dramatic.  Hardly ever.). I announce with excitement. . . "I have a new hobby!" I pause dramatically, and my parents and siblings sit with baited breath waiting (or rolling their eyes- whichever). "My new hobby is studying!!!!!" I was for real- at that moment.  It was my new hobby.  There was a pause, and my parents laugh...

Friends of elementary aged males, does your son say, "Twenty One?" A lot?  There's this whole sequence he would go through: What's nine plus ten?  Twenty One!  Or on the way home from church today Alexa would say, "Andrew- jump out of the car!" and wait until Andrew responded, "Twenty One!" He's been saying it for a week or better.  When I first heard him saying this stupid phrase, I ignored it. Then I started wondering . . . WTH?!  Why does he keep saying this, and more mysterious, Doug seemed to have some knowledge about the phrase.  When I asked about it, Andrew couldn't explain it, and Doug sort of shook his head, but didn't offer up any kind of explanation.  Several days later . . . I started to get sort of paranoid about it.  In a government conspiracy sort of way.  My theory behind the stupid phrase seemed far fetched, and unlikely . . . yet . . . what if?   (my theory was that it was some sort of secret boy language and they w...

I remember when Andrew was 4 years old, I cried one day when I was putting sunscreen on his face. I was pretty pregnant at the time.  I assumed I was excessively hormonal and that's why I was crying, like a weirdo. His face was just so sweet,and his cheeks were so smooth. Pureness, in soul and spirit, were shining through. I know now, it wasn't hormones.  I know it's just me feeling sad that my children are growing up, as I find myself looking at Alexa and feeling sad that she's turning into a "big kid."  Why does she have to??????  I mean- I know it's the natural progression of life, but it sucks.  Alexa is so stinking sweet and wonderful, why does she have to grow up and go to kindergarten next year????  She's my last baby, (although I was offered a 1 year old when I went to pick her up at daycare yesterday. I was willing to take that baby, who was obviously struggling.) It's crazy to think that a few years ago I had this cute little P...

Doug and I are parenting like a boss tonight!  Andrew came home aggravating his sister- like a boss. At one point, Doug looked at me and said, "I'm about to knock your son out . . . like a boss!"  Like the bosses we are- we took care of the aggravating problem.  Turns out . . . when your parents use a "totally cool" phrase (among the 4th grade male sector) in everyday conversation- like a boss- it just ain't all that cool. The first few times we used it in conversation- like the boss we are- he was unsure of what to do. Was it funny?  Were we being annoying?  He seemed uncertain. Then we were able to insert the phrase into the conversation a few more thousand times- like the bosses we are- and he knew we were being annoying.  We can annoy him- like a boss.  He was getting mad- like a boss!  Alexa caught on- like a boss- and then we were all able to insert the annoying phrase into conversation- like bosses. I'm pretty sure we took care of that ...