Laresa Watkins

An Oxymoronic Drive

Oct 16, 2015

The kids and I had a hysterical drive to co-op this morning.  Not hysterical in a roll-on-the-floor-laughing sense, but in that I was hysterical by the time we arrived at our destination.

My new car is set up with bluetooth that connects automatically to my phone when I get in the car.  The kids love playing music that we have downloaded to my phone.  We don’t have too many options, but they like what I have.

Charlie’s favorite song is the “Darth Vader Theme Song” while Maddie enjoys “Today is the Day” sung by the Women of Faith praise team. Nice, huh?

This morning they were arguing over the phone and whose music we were going to listen to, so I made the rule that one of them could play a song the entire way through, then the other could play a song the entire way through.

So our 25 minute ride went:

Dum, dum, dum-dum, dum, dum, dum, dum, dum, duuuuummmm-  Imagine us speeding ominously down the dark and lonely backroads. Charlie pulls his hoodie over his eyes and we sit in silence. Then the cheerier-

Today is the day, you have made! I will rejoice and be glad in it!- Maddie and I sing the words to this song at the top of our lungs, until-

Dum, dum, dum-dum, dum, dum, dum, dum, dum, duuuummmm. Again, silence from the backseat, as the sad string orchestra fills the car. I speed up a little.  Then-

Today is the day, you have made! I will rejoice and be glad in it! We immediately cheer up to sing this song again.

And this went on and on until we arrived at the church.

The phone stayed in my pocketbook for the ride home.

This post is part of my series for #Write31Days.  To see more, click the image below: 

Just Write 31 Days theme pic


Sorry to Embarrass You…

Aug 13, 2013

Today’s daily prompt is titled “Too Soon?”  and is asking if there are some topics that are off limits when it comes to writing humorously (  I know there are.  For instance, you wouldn’t want to give a funny account of a funeral and you certainly wouldn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings.

There have been several blogs lately written by different parents about things concerning their children that would be off limits because they didn’t want their children to be embarrassed.  This made me think, do I need to think more carefully about what I post, or about the pictures that I post?

You know, our children will one day read these blogs that are currently so popular.  I hope that Charlie and Maddie will at some point in the future read this blog-it has taken the place of our family scrapbooks! What’s more, their friends or future spouses might read this blog, and do I want to write anything that might be embarrassing to their future selves?

Our days are filled with hilarity.  The kids are so funny to me.  Their little voices and facial expressions crack me up, and quite honestly if I don’t find our everyday situations funny, I will probably go off the deep end. Being a stay-at-home mom of a 2 and 4-year old is great, but it is hard.

After much contemplation on this subject, I decided to leave a description of Charlie’s early morning dance party to Flo-rida’s “Wild One” in his Spiderman undies out of this post.  Too bad, because the pictures were so cute. But his future girlfriend doesn’t need to know about that, does she?

I decided to illuminate you on some of the conversations that the kids and I had today.  I feel so enlightened after the conversations, and I know you will, to.

The first convo took place in the car on our way to the vet:

Charlie: Mom, how do cats miss ya?

Me: I don’t know, Charlie.

Maddie (trying on sunglasses): Look at me, Mom!

Charlie: Mommy, does Daddy like Aqua Pods?

Me: I don’t know, honey.

Charlie: Will you call him when we get home and find out if he likes Aqua Pods?

Me: Yes.

Maddie: Look at me, Charlie!

Charlie: Holy cow, look at that tree!

Maddie: Roll my window down!

Me: Wow!

Maddie: Roll my window up!

Charlie: Is 28 the biggest number?

Me: Biggest out of what?

Charlie: Is 25 a bigger number than 58?

Maddie: Roll my window down!

You get the picture, right?  It is only by the grace of God that we actually get anywhere that we are going.


Amazingly enough, our lunchtime conversation topped that one:

Charlie: Look mommy, I made a shark with my sandwich and a chip.


Maddie (about halfway through her sandwich): I need to pee.

Me: Well, go pee.  You know where the bathroom is.

Maddie: Don’t eat my food, okay?


Me: No one is going to eat your food, Maddie.

Charlie: I can wipe my butt.

Me: I know, Charlie.  That’s great.

Charlie: How did you know?

And so our days go on and on.  To the future Charlie and Maddie: I hope this isn’t too embarrassing to you. But realistically, if this is the worst embarrassment I expose you to, I won’t have done my job as your mother.  The world is embarrassing, and I am just preparing you for it.  Sorry if it’s too soon.





Blueberry Pie and The Honor System

Jun 25, 2013

My Husband and I both had to work this past Saturday morning.  Luckily, we were both done by lunchtime and when I got home, he said he had a surprise for me!  Yay! I can usually figure out what his surprises are, but this one really had me stumped.  We got in the car and headed to wherever the surprise was.  We ended up in the next town over, Pilot Mountain.  He was taking me blueberry picking!  There was this cute little blueberry farm that he had driven by on his milk truck route and he thought I would like it.  Of course I would!  I love doing stuff like that!  So, we pull in and there are 2 people there, none of whom work there.  We just grab a little bucket and start picking.  It was hot, but we had a lot of fun eating berries and throwing them at each other!.  When our bucket is full, we head back, but there is still not anyone in sight that works there.  Well, there is a table set up with scales, plastic bags, a metal box, and a piece of paper.  The paper says “The Honor System:  You pick them, weigh them, put them in a bag, and leave your money in the box.”  So we did!  I thought that was pretty cool!

Apparently, I was tricked because, little did I know, Johnny had been wanting a blueberry pie, which I have never made before.  Of course, I wasn’t going to tell him that.  And it turned out freaking fabulous!  So, here is my recipe.  I apologize for the measurements.  I tend to not measure things.  I just guess and add and pour, but I will try to get as close as possible.

4 pounds of blueberries!

4 pounds of blueberries!

These were some big berries!

These were some big berries!


So to start, if you are using fresh berries, you need to wash them of course.  I assume everyone knows this, but I also forget that not everyone has blueberry farms 15 minutes from their house.  If you buy them from the store, I would recommend washing them anyway!  Now, I’m not going to get into the pie/sonker/cobbler thing (that’s a whole other blog) but, I had just bought a deep dish pie crust and I really wanted to use it, while I really felt like the blueberries would work best in a sonker/cobbler setting.  I filled the pie crust with blueberries.  I really don’t know how many it was, but if I had to guess, I would say 6 cups.  Next, you mix together 1/3 cup sugar, 1/4 cup light brown sugar, and 1 tablespoon cinnamon.  I just poured that over the berries inside of the pie crust and kind of tossed it around until all the berries were coated.


Next step is the topping.  This is just a crust, you could use another pie crust if you wanted, I just didn’t want to go that route with this one.  I melted 6 tablespoons of butter a mixed in 1 cup of flour and 1/2 cup of sugar.  I also added some cinnamon and quick cooking oats to it, just to be fancy.  (Reminder:  I don’t measure, so what I am writing on here is just a guess of what I used.)  Mix everything together until it is pasty.  It shouldn’t be runny.  More like a cookie dough.  You kind of have to drop it onto the top of the blueberries in the pie crust as evenly as you can.

That's what it looked like before it was cooked.

That’s what it looked like before it was cooked.


Bake at 350 for 45 minutes.  You can’t cut it immediately, it needs time to set up.  This pie is so good!

Finished Product!

Finished Product!




Sometimes I let him do what he wants.

Sometimes I let him do what he wants.


That’s why you shouldn’t cut it immediately.  But, he was going to terrorize it anyways!  It was a great Saturday!  I also got a new planter from my Dad and got my chicks and hens planted (This is what I call that plant, although I have heard several other names.  I do know it is one of the only plants that I can successfully multiply!!!)

So cool looking!

So cool looking!






Driving While Mothering

Sep 5, 2010

Charlie and I were cruising down I-40 a few days ago on our way back from visiting family out of town when I noticed a car speeding up behind me.  The car whipped around us, slammed on brakes, and moved into the exit lane.  When Charlie is in the car with me I have no patience for bad driving, so I was just fuming.  Then I saw the sign of mothers everywhere-the shade in the window.  My anger quickly subsided as I realized that there was a child in a carseat in the back, and the driver was just trying to drive, feed, soothe, and complete other tasks required of a mother on the road, just like me.

Every stage of motherhood has its challenges when it comes to operating a motor vehicle.  Mothers of infants, for example, should probably not be allowed to drive until their child sleeps through the night.  Someone who has had only 3 hours of sleep has no business driving a golf cart, much less a car!  I remember several times when I could barely keep my eyes open until I made it home.  At this point of motherhood, we are only shells of our former selves, and our licenses should be temporarily suspended.  But then who would take the baby to its doctor’s appointments and go to the store to buy diapers and food? We must stumble on…

Then comes the toddler with its many demands and need for attention. I can’t help but turn around to look at Charlie and marvel at his cuteness or hand him a cracker or pinch his toe.  On top of the basic distraction of simply having a toddler in the car, you have the added element of the occassional tantrum.  Now that is a tough one.  Yesterday I just kept turning the radio up to try to drown Charlie out when he wouldn’t stop screaming because he couldn’t reach his sippy cup that he had moments before thrown in the floor!

I have seen my sister-in-law struggle while chauffering her 5 and 9 year-olds around.  They are constantly demanding that she put in a new DVD or fast forward or rewind what they are already watching, change the track on the CD they are listening to, or tattling on each other for hurt feelings.  She is amazing-she can drive, work a sound system, talk on the phone, and sing along with the church children’s Christmas program soundtrack all at the same time! Some things just come with experience, I suppose.

Then there are the poor mothers who have turned into passengers while their teenagers are driving.  I can’t even imagine the horror.

We should have flashing lights or have to paint our cars yellow to warn people that we are driving with children and we are crazy!  Us mothers of infants have those handy pull-down shades to let others know that there is a child in the car, and some moms even put up the “Baby on Board” signs, too.  Now, if you see one of those you better just pull over until the car is only a spot on the horizon-that woman is trying to tell you to watch out!

Lord, just watch over us all!


**December 2014**  Now that I have 3 and 5-year-olds, I need to add an extra stage of mothering which is quite possibly the worst of all: the chauffeur.  This is the mom who is late dropping the kid off at school or dance or karate or baseball or something.  They are DANGEROUS, people!  These moms are desperate to get somewhere on time for once, JUST ONCE!  They will speed and cut you off and forget to use the turn signal.  If you look in your rearview mirror and see a minivan on your tail and notice a woman with wild-looking hair and eyes in the drivers seat, just move over and let her pass.  

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