tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-47654159658364655362024-03-13T19:49:11.364-07:00Mike, Melissa & LucyMike & Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17787710712250485489noreply@blogger.comBlogger137125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4765415965836465536.post-50789689444365174112013-04-12T09:13:00.000-07:002013-04-15T09:13:53.770-07:00Happy Birthday, Lucy!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dNCopasObwg/UWwnMaWR-EI/AAAAAAAABqw/ls2MKYOMr4E/s1600/Lucy+is+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dNCopasObwg/UWwnMaWR-EI/AAAAAAAABqw/ls2MKYOMr4E/s320/Lucy+is+2.jpg" width="212" /></a></div>
<br />Mike & Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17787710712250485489noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4765415965836465536.post-4285288092726532202013-02-12T07:37:00.004-08:002013-02-12T08:19:22.353-08:00It's a Bird, It's a Plane, It's a . . . Mini-Michael! <br />
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I can really see Mike in her in these pictures. <br />
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Especially this one:<br />
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I think we can all agree he can stop claiming she's not his now, right? Mike & Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17787710712250485489noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4765415965836465536.post-1444251564819704142013-01-02T08:11:00.000-08:002013-01-02T08:14:13.120-08:00The Worst Wife EverI may be the worst wife ever. <br />
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Back in November, I heard that Kristin Chenoweth would be coming in concert for New Year's Eve. <br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zi8lF0lu3vM/UORVVIZcrsI/AAAAAAAABno/9x53wWhrj4A/s1600/Kristin_Chenoweth.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zi8lF0lu3vM/UORVVIZcrsI/AAAAAAAABno/9x53wWhrj4A/s200/Kristin_Chenoweth.jpg" width="191" /></a></div>
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For those who don't know who Kristin is (you must be living under a rock, but okay, I'll still tell you), she was the original Glinda in <em>Wicked </em>in 2003, but I've been a huge fan of hers since she made her Broadway debut in 1997's <em>Steel Pier. </em></div>
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She's just amazing. I own every ablum she's ever recorded (4 solo albums, not to mention original cast recordings). </div>
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Needless to say, I was <em>dying</em> to see her show. <em>Dying.</em> </div>
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So much so, that I may have told Mike that if he didn't get me tickets for Christmas, I would be serving him with divorce papers the next day. And he knew I could (I know people). </div>
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I know! I'm the worst wife ever! (Let the judging begin.) </div>
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I wasn't really serious, but that's how bad I wanted to go! </div>
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Keep in mind this was back in November. </div>
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All through December, leading up to Christmas, I badgered Mike with my request. Every time he would ask me what I wanted for Christmas, I would say, "to go see Kristin." And he would laugh and tell me it wasn't going to happen. I secretly hoped that he was kidding. </div>
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Then the show sold out. </div>
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Crap. Now what?! What if he really didn't get tickets?! I told myself it wasn't really a big deal and I would still live even if I didn't get to see the most talented person that I idolize perform live. </div>
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Well, come Christmas morning, Mike handed me an envelope to open.</div>
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And my mom and sister said that I burst their eardrums with my scream. </div>
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Turns out, he had bought the tickets back in November. </div>
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Yes, he had taken all that flack from me for more than a month, just to surprise me on Christmas. </div>
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And I felt horrible for the threats I had made. (I know, I know! I'm the worst wife! But that's okay, because I have a great husband who makes up for it (suck up much?).) </div>
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New Year's Eve finally came and we headed up to The Eccles Center in Park City. (A side note: I <em>prayed and prayed</em> that it wouldn't snow that day, because if you know me, my biggest fear is being in the car in the snow. I was so worried that we would have to miss Kristin because we wouldn't be able to drive up the canyon. It snowed the morning of New Year's Eve, but by the time we left, the roads were mostly snow-free.) </div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Pxuw4Jn_eRU/UORYRrFctdI/AAAAAAAABos/DawLAWpIFtQ/s1600/Me+and+Mike.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Pxuw4Jn_eRU/UORYRrFctdI/AAAAAAAABos/DawLAWpIFtQ/s200/Me+and+Mike.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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This is us, waiting for the show to start (Mike refused to turn around for the picture). </div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-R9DoF4u2Ku0/UORX-spj5cI/AAAAAAAABoE/_81jomyeNTw/s1600/Kristin+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-R9DoF4u2Ku0/UORX-spj5cI/AAAAAAAABoE/_81jomyeNTw/s200/Kristin+3.jpg" width="150" /></a><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UNl91rE6Ev8/UORYACBvc7I/AAAAAAAABoU/5W2bfZGN0iI/s1600/Kristin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UNl91rE6Ev8/UORYACBvc7I/AAAAAAAABoU/5W2bfZGN0iI/s200/Kristin.jpg" width="150" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sf16TpWooJY/UORX_eE4KpI/AAAAAAAABoM/dRgj-76vQ6o/s1600/Kristin+5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sf16TpWooJY/UORX_eE4KpI/AAAAAAAABoM/dRgj-76vQ6o/s200/Kristin+5.jpg" width="150" /></a><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OkIN2sNB89s/UORX9IzDi4I/AAAAAAAABn8/MNbaovu3V38/s1600/Kristin+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OkIN2sNB89s/UORX9IzDi4I/AAAAAAAABn8/MNbaovu3V38/s200/Kristin+2.jpg" width="150" /></a></div>
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I cannot even tell you how great the concert was! Kristin looked absolutely beautiful! </div>
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Mike was surprised that I was a "wahoo" girl. I even toned it down because I didn't want to embarrass him, but had I really "wahoo-ed," I would have been without a voice the next day. </div>
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And even Mike had to agree that Kristin puts on a great show. She really knows how to connect with her audience. </div>
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(Another side note: To the people of Utah: REALLY? You're going to a concert on New Year's Eve. Yes, it's 2 degrees outside. But do we have to dress in jeans and Ugg boots?! (Kristin even commented on how "casual" some people were dressed, but she was kind and said it worked.) I seriously do not understand this. Why do some people think it's okay to dress like that for the theater?! (Ask Mike, my biggest pet peeve is people who don't dress up to go the the theater.) UGH!) </div>
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(Another, another side note: At one point, Kristin invited 2 people on stage with her to sing "For Good" from <em>Wicked</em>. We were sitting too far back for me to be picked (bummer). One of the girls (who said she was 14) was wearing a dress that barely covered <em>anything</em> and NO tights. BARE legs. Remember, it's 2 degrees outside. She wants to dress like a hooch, fine, that's her decision, but WHERE IS HER MOTHER TO AT LEAST MAKE HER WEAR A COAT IN THE FREEZING COLD WEATHER??????? (We saw her walk into the theater, and she, and her two other bare-legged hoochie friends, were not wearing coats.) If Lucy <em>ever </em>walks out of the house like that . . . no . . . Lucy will never walk out of the house like that. Period.) </div>
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Anyway, it was so much fun and Mike is the best husband ever for indulging me and putting up with my screaming that night. </div>
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I know. </div>
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I owe him big. </div>
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Huge. </div>
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Mega-huge. </div>
Mike & Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17787710712250485489noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4765415965836465536.post-91785735917257077922012-12-18T08:01:00.002-08:002012-12-18T08:01:46.517-08:00The Problem With My Generation . . . <div style="text-align: justify;">
This past weekend I was unfortunate to witness the growing problem with my generation and peek into the future (and be utterly dismayed) at what the world is coming to. </div>
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At our annual Ward Christmas Breakfast, one of the best ladies in our ward stepped up to the microphone and proceeded to discuss the tragedy that occurred in Newtown the previous day. She was holding back tears (and me too) as she read a letter her sister had written asking for letters, pictures, donations, anything to reach out to the families of the tragedy and show them love, kindness and support. </div>
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And I could barely hear her.</div>
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Not because the microphone wasn't working or she wasn't speaking loud enough. </div>
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But because parents were letting their children run all over the gym, yelling, screaming and completely disrespecting what was going on around them. </div>
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Now, I'm not saying that I'm in any way a perfect parent (believe me, I KNOW I'm not perfect when it comes to Lucy, as it's been pointed out to me on several occasions), but when I was a kid there was NO WAY my parents would've let me run around and be noisy while there was a program going on. </div>
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Why does this happen then?</div>
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Because parents today simply don't care. </div>
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My generation feels that they are entitled to anything and that their kids are special and deserve to do whatever they want. </div>
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In short, we're spoiled rotten. </div>
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Which, in short, is making our kids spoiled rotten. </div>
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Entitled, entitled, entitled! </div>
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We are so afraid of hurting our children's feelings and being their friend that we don't realize we are depriving them of the most essential parts of growing up, which, at times, includes disappointment. </div>
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It's like that saying that I've read somewhere (probably Pinterest) that says "I'd rather raise a kid who knows what losing feels like, than a kid who gets a trophy for simply participating." (Or something like that.) </div>
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Frankly, I'm scared to death that I'll be the same way and give in completely to whatever Lucy wants (at times, I already do, but only because she's 1, and I pick my battles with her). But if I ever see her being disrespectful in a sacred situation, you can bet she'll get what for! </div>
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Now, there are those out there who probably disagree with me (good thing only 2 people read this blog), but I don't care. There are few things that I'll stand on a soap box for, and this is definitely one of them. Kids need discipline! But so do parents. </div>
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I weep for the future. </div>
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And now a picture to brighten your day: </div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4gIBBr4bWcw/UNCQie4P8PI/AAAAAAAABnQ/H2cZ6PQ5weg/s1600/Bath+Time+11-30-2012.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4gIBBr4bWcw/UNCQie4P8PI/AAAAAAAABnQ/H2cZ6PQ5weg/s200/Bath+Time+11-30-2012.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
Mike & Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17787710712250485489noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4765415965836465536.post-1725237012316372402012-10-26T09:20:00.002-07:002012-10-26T09:25:29.113-07:00Update on Lucy's JIAYesterday, Lucy had a follow-up appointment at Primary Children's regarding her JIA. <br />
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She loved the toys in the waiting room. <br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pKXaUdOKiJA/UIq2t0xgYYI/AAAAAAAABmk/ao6HxzQc968/s1600/Lucy+at+PCMC+2+10-25-2012.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pKXaUdOKiJA/UIq2t0xgYYI/AAAAAAAABmk/ao6HxzQc968/s200/Lucy+at+PCMC+2+10-25-2012.jpg" width="150" /></a><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6g71pxIyU-k/UIq2woSF18I/AAAAAAAABms/FhASJ-kpRj4/s1600/Lucy+at+PCMC+10-25-2012.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6g71pxIyU-k/UIq2woSF18I/AAAAAAAABms/FhASJ-kpRj4/s200/Lucy+at+PCMC+10-25-2012.jpg" width="150" /></a></div>
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What she <em>didn't </em>love was the poking, the prodding, and the stretching that the doctors did to her. <br />
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It has been determined that Lucy's JIA is not getting any better with the treatment she is on and we must move to the next step. <br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-K1kp_96dM5g/UIq21A4-0EI/AAAAAAAABm8/_AIm-f0RxNE/s1600/Lucy+at+PCMC+3+10-25-2012.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-K1kp_96dM5g/UIq21A4-0EI/AAAAAAAABm8/_AIm-f0RxNE/s200/Lucy+at+PCMC+3+10-25-2012.jpg" width="150" /></a></div>
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So, on November 5th, Lucy will be put under complete anesthesia and given injections into both her knees and her left ankle (oh yeah, it's spread to her ankle now). </div>
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I had thought that Lucy was getting better. She was walking a little bit more than she had before we started treatment. But, once the doctors watched her walk, they told me she must be in a lot of pain. </div>
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They say that this treatment will really help her and she should be pain-free for 6-12 months (or maybe longer!). Which would make her even happier (a <em>happier </em>Lucy?! Not possible!) </div>
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We just really hope and pray that it works! <br />
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In happier news, we were blessed with a new great-niece and a great-nephew this past week. Congratulations to Ashley and Rusty on Baby Claire and to Chris and Kelli on Baby Tyler! Mike & Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17787710712250485489noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4765415965836465536.post-60642752185631907662012-09-05T09:01:00.003-07:002012-09-05T09:02:57.814-07:00Lucy The Limper<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Your daughter has Juvenile Idiopathic Arthritis." </div>
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<em>What?!</em></div>
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Juvenile Idiopathic Arthritis. </div>
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Juvenile = child. </div>
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Idiopathic = unknown.</div>
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Arthritis = the reason my beautiful 16-month-old, who literally ran before she started walking, can't walk anymore. </div>
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Lucy has been limping around for about 6 weeks now, so, after being seen by doctors, x-rayed (fun), and poked and prodded with needles (more fun), they have determined that she has Juvenile Idiopathic Arthritis (JIA). (Don't look it up on Wikipedia, it will only scare the beejeeus out of you.) We originally thought it was just her right knee, but it turns out, it's both. And we have to keep a close eye on her, as it could still spread to her other joints. But we caught it early, so the probability of it causing permanent joint damage is minimal. </div>
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So, besides the fact that my beautiful little girl will always have this condition (although symptoms after treatment may recede and become dormant until she reaches puberty (we're really hoping and praying for that)), she will have to have eye exams every 3 months for the rest of her life, because JIA can cause eye swelling and blindness. </div>
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Turns out this is a pretty rare disease. Only 80-90 children in 100,000 are diagnosed with JIA. </div>
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We've started her on prescriptions to manage the pain and swelling, so hopefully, we can resolve her problems with those, otherwise more drastic measures will have to be taken. </div>
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With treatment, the doctors have assured me that she can still lead a normal life, it's just a matter of finding what treatments work for her. </div>
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So . . . even though this is not an ideal situation, it could be <em>much </em>worse. (The words "cancer" and "leukemia" were thrown around at first. And the word "heart-attack" could have been applied to me.) </div>
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Through all this Lucy is still our smiling, happy girl. </div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aMl1VWZLT-M/UEdyEUIlFHI/AAAAAAAABmQ/Xmuu53mTsvk/s1600/Waiting+at+doctors.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aMl1VWZLT-M/UEdyEUIlFHI/AAAAAAAABmQ/Xmuu53mTsvk/s1600/Waiting+at+doctors.jpg" /></a></div>
Mike & Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17787710712250485489noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4765415965836465536.post-13499914883510211052012-07-09T07:49:00.001-07:002012-07-09T07:51:57.030-07:00Lucy has learned to smile for the camera: <br />
<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NlPXSBIfiLY/T_rvDznoxgI/AAAAAAAABls/8g3cKBc1n7U/s1600/Lucy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NlPXSBIfiLY/T_rvDznoxgI/AAAAAAAABls/8g3cKBc1n7U/s200/Lucy.jpg" width="150" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OKB203nSSl4/T_rvG0lc_cI/AAAAAAAABl8/O6ERF1Ss0Vk/s1600/Funny+Lucy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OKB203nSSl4/T_rvG0lc_cI/AAAAAAAABl8/O6ERF1Ss0Vk/s200/Funny+Lucy.jpg" width="150" /></a><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-s16V0_5ubPc/T_rvC9-KwGI/AAAAAAAABlk/iKjIryzYOWI/s1600/Cheese+2!.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-s16V0_5ubPc/T_rvC9-KwGI/AAAAAAAABlk/iKjIryzYOWI/s200/Cheese+2!.jpg" width="150" /></a><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-v_6Sw2_4M9I/T_rvEmC247I/AAAAAAAABl0/ITt-PLkMWGE/s1600/Pretty+Lucy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-v_6Sw2_4M9I/T_rvEmC247I/AAAAAAAABl0/ITt-PLkMWGE/s200/Pretty+Lucy.jpg" width="150" /></a></div>Mike & Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17787710712250485489noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4765415965836465536.post-38686879386149542032012-06-25T16:06:00.001-07:002012-06-27T07:52:00.834-07:00Lucy's First Trip to the Zoo<div style="text-align: justify;">
Lucy's first trip to the zoo. </div>
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<em>Ta da!</em></div>
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My friend was kind enough to have a birthday party at the zoo a few weeks ago, so we went. </div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SXZgDeYwl0o/T-jt12pmpNI/AAAAAAAABlI/szcvrjcPJcM/s1600/Mike+&+Lucy+looking+at+Elephants.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SXZgDeYwl0o/T-jt12pmpNI/AAAAAAAABlI/szcvrjcPJcM/s200/Mike+&+Lucy+looking+at+Elephants.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hWGSQmqIwEg/T-jt1F_9THI/AAAAAAAABlA/FFpJVEyD9rM/s1600/Mike+&+Lucy+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hWGSQmqIwEg/T-jt1F_9THI/AAAAAAAABlA/FFpJVEyD9rM/s200/Mike+&+Lucy+2.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Q8sDVD-FR8Q/T-jt2hECDFI/AAAAAAAABlQ/FJfHS1s_UoA/s1600/Mike+&+Lucy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Q8sDVD-FR8Q/T-jt2hECDFI/AAAAAAAABlQ/FJfHS1s_UoA/s200/Mike+&+Lucy.jpg" width="150" /></a></div>
Lucy experienced her first ice cream cone: <br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IdktSSaFMGs/T-jtzZC2kdI/AAAAAAAABk4/pcpPD-ZfYeg/s1600/Lucy's+First+Ice+Cream+Cone.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IdktSSaFMGs/T-jtzZC2kdI/AAAAAAAABk4/pcpPD-ZfYeg/s200/Lucy's+First+Ice+Cream+Cone.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
Duh, she loved it. <br />
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Who wouldn't love ice cream on a hot summer day (I feel sorry for the lactose intolerant, especially when it's 100 degrees out)? </div>
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Looking back over these photos, you'll notice there are no animals in any of them, and, let's be honest, that means they could have been taken from anywhere. Guess you'll just have to trust me that we really did go to the zoo. </div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IeXuv0fEJuA/T-jt3ltAsUI/AAAAAAAABlY/d1oGyGhpss8/s1600/Mike+and+Lucy+from+behind.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IeXuv0fEJuA/T-jt3ltAsUI/AAAAAAAABlY/d1oGyGhpss8/s200/Mike+and+Lucy+from+behind.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>Mike & Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17787710712250485489noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4765415965836465536.post-45817235860657306552012-06-15T09:16:00.003-07:002012-06-15T09:16:40.716-07:00For Dads Everywhere:<div style="text-align: justify;">
“Spread the diaper in the position
of the diamond with you at bat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then
fold second base down to home and set the baby on the pitcher's mound.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Put first base and third together, bring up
home plate and pin the three together.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Of
course, in case of rain, you gotta call the game and start all over again.” </div>
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</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">~
Jimmy Piersal, on how to diaper a baby, 1968<o:p></o:p></i></div>Mike & Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17787710712250485489noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4765415965836465536.post-46287752382595334672012-05-29T08:09:00.001-07:002012-05-29T08:11:27.222-07:00Memorial Day 2012<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
For Memorial Day, Mike made me go to the Cabin. </div>
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<br /></div>
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Where it snowed:</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zJvdryljPHc/T8TkhcPiE_I/AAAAAAAABj8/2Iy2FwSHTJk/s1600/photo+(2).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zJvdryljPHc/T8TkhcPiE_I/AAAAAAAABj8/2Iy2FwSHTJk/s200/photo+(2).JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
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We saw bison:</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Dazv2ga5ccU/T8TkkAnQgOI/AAAAAAAABkU/6tJP9gMmduI/s1600/photo+(8).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Dazv2ga5ccU/T8TkkAnQgOI/AAAAAAAABkU/6tJP9gMmduI/s200/photo+(8).JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
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And this van that made Mike laugh: </div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rBvPs_e0Vqg/T8TkjVI8Q8I/AAAAAAAABkM/wSNxotirBuQ/s1600/photo+(6).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rBvPs_e0Vqg/T8TkjVI8Q8I/AAAAAAAABkM/wSNxotirBuQ/s200/photo+(6).JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
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(It's from the California University of Pennsylvania.) </div>
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Lucy ate twizzlers:</div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_6NlizWdT2k/T8Tkimc0g9I/AAAAAAAABkE/W42JI6ePjVs/s1600/photo+(4).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_6NlizWdT2k/T8Tkimc0g9I/AAAAAAAABkE/W42JI6ePjVs/s200/photo+(4).JPG" width="200" /></a><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MSe5S0O4oHw/T8TklgRNdxI/AAAAAAAABkk/Zyd2mE4ZIWU/s1600/photo+(10).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MSe5S0O4oHw/T8TklgRNdxI/AAAAAAAABkk/Zyd2mE4ZIWU/s200/photo+(10).JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
And saw a waterfall: <br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mG35-xqunpo/T8Tkk8dwWrI/AAAAAAAABkc/4TDUjxMjf8s/s1600/photo+(9).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mG35-xqunpo/T8Tkk8dwWrI/AAAAAAAABkc/4TDUjxMjf8s/s200/photo+(9).JPG" width="200" /></a><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QjaHLuA62hA/T8TkmJwNBfI/AAAAAAAABks/KJ4q4Ut7cvI/s1600/photo+(12).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QjaHLuA62hA/T8TkmJwNBfI/AAAAAAAABks/KJ4q4Ut7cvI/s200/photo+(12).JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
We watched a lot of movies (mostly horrible - even for my tastes (thanks, Justin)). And played a rousing game of "Spoons" and "Jenga." <br />
<br />Oh, and Lucy threw up. (We should probably keep that little fact from Patty & Mike. Oops.)<br />
<br />But she's fine now. Mike & Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17787710712250485489noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4765415965836465536.post-20471807066266320422012-05-15T12:43:00.001-07:002012-05-18T15:59:02.440-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br /></div>Mike & Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17787710712250485489noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4765415965836465536.post-4018583293598985352012-04-23T08:41:00.003-07:002012-04-23T08:49:07.400-07:00Lucy's First Football Game<div align="justify">We took Lucy to the Utes Red & White Game this past weekend. <a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gRY9tcQvlGU/T5V4wfQf_NI/AAAAAAAABio/6l3NkSAAPD8/s1600/Lucy%2Bat%2BRed%2B%2526%2BWhite%2BGame%2B04-21-2012.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5734622474945952978" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gRY9tcQvlGU/T5V4wfQf_NI/AAAAAAAABio/6l3NkSAAPD8/s200/Lucy%2Bat%2BRed%2B%2526%2BWhite%2BGame%2B04-21-2012.JPG" /></a> She was really good and only got a little sunburned on her arms (despite my slathering of sunscreen). </div><br /><div align="justify">This will be the only time Lucy will come to a football game until she's old enough to sit by herself and pay attention (this is mainly for selfish reasons, as I watched her the whole time and barely looked at the field). </div><br /><div align="justify">Lucy loves to be outside.</div>Mike & Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17787710712250485489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4765415965836465536.post-55381903294802956892012-04-18T08:23:00.001-07:002012-04-23T08:51:05.326-07:001st Birthday PartyWe took Lucy to see Allen (or Dr. Freestone) and learned the following things about her:<br />She weighs 20lbs (that's with all her clothes and shoes on). Which puts her in the 32% for weight.<br />She is 29 inches tall (again, that's with her shoes on). Which puts her in the 47% for height.<br />Tall no longer! Guess my short genes are starting to kick in.<br />(I could have killed the nurses that day - since it was her 12 month appointment, Lucy had to get some shots, 6 shots to be exact, and since I went alone last time, I made Mike stay in the room with her by himself (pretty mean of me, but I could still hear her screaming outside). Well, come to find out, they forgot to give her one shot, so they had to poke her again. She screamed and kept looking at me like I'd betrayed her. Stupid nurses.)<br /><br /><p><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 134px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5734623944215564930" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-U049It9wBu0/T5V6GAtrEoI/AAAAAAAABi0/mdVFONVQ8CU/s200/Lucy%2527s%2BFirst%2BBirthday%2BInvite%2BIdea.jpg" />My mom threw Lucy an awesome 1st birthday party (complete with most of our family). <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5734618237285820370" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PB8OR6QH8MY/T5V050vl59I/AAAAAAAABhs/0898OTF2DbA/s200/301804_10150795097945189_577925188_12051842_438812293_n.jpg" />She even made Lucy an adorable tutu for her to wear. She also printed out a bunch of picutures of Lucy and made a timeline of her life so far. It was adorable (is my mom the greatest, or what?)! </p><br /><p>I "helped" make the cake for Lucy to tear apart (that's why it's the leaning tower of birthday cake). <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5734618733615877554" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KkjTSCQ6Vzk/T5V1Wtt5jbI/AAAAAAAABiE/ugJBmbbEKBk/s200/524150_10150795102355189_577925188_12051867_8995039_n.jpg" />We tried to get her to dive into the cake, but she was more interested in the candies and the frosting. <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5734618767946009154" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-w156O7di74E/T5V1Ytm1ykI/AAAAAAAABiQ/08_ene6VoJM/s200/540164_10150795104005189_577925188_12051875_1188599147_n.jpg" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5734618692464705986" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VWd7Nm5je24/T5V1UUasgcI/AAAAAAAABh4/EQ6v4nN4TOg/s200/292590_10150795104945189_577925188_12051878_1618390008_n.jpg" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5734618814738623138" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YkFnKVmXMIg/T5V1bb7EaqI/AAAAAAAABic/2jz1m4NU_F4/s200/549238_10150795105985189_577925188_12051880_150611066_n.jpg" />I had specified "no gifts," but nobody listened to me, so Lucy got spoiled rotten! </p><br /><p align="justify">Grandma Kay made Lucy a beautiful red sweater and when the other grandkids saw it, I believe there was a discussion about how come the rest of them didn't get sweaters and it was obvious who the favorite grandchild was now (uh, duh). </p><br /><p>She also got some toys, books and clothes. The girl is seriously spoiled. </p>Mike & Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17787710712250485489noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4765415965836465536.post-17956185002901572812012-04-12T10:14:00.004-07:002012-04-12T10:21:21.331-07:00Happy Birthday, Lucy!<div align="justify">It's hard to believe that at this time 1 year ago, Mike and I were sitting and waiting in the hospital (and waiting and waiting and waiting) for our little girl to be born. We didn't have a name picked out and we really had no idea what we were in store for. </div><br /><div align="justify"></div><br /><div align="justify">Lucky for us, we received the best gift anyone could have given us - a perfect angel. <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5730564681826301858" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g4RRQKzKmIU/T4cON16n96I/AAAAAAAABfw/ad3JHPLgnSI/s200/100_1519.jpg" /></div>And a year later, she's still an angel.<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5730565212914571218" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OktRK5ZY9M0/T4cOswX719I/AAAAAAAABf8/gzetqjvDeBc/s200/Lucy%2B04-12-2012.JPG" /><br />(Mike took this picture this morning. Still in her pajamas, no bath yet, but she's still beautiful.)<br /><br />Happy Birthday, Monkey!Mike & Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17787710712250485489noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4765415965836465536.post-80117533961120458752012-04-12T08:13:00.013-07:002012-04-12T10:13:32.300-07:00Day 9: 30 Things in 30 Days<div align="center"><u>9. List 10 people who have influenced you and describe how.</u> </div><br /><div align="justify">1. My parents. <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 157px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5730552778605074802" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-kYGvnjriOkg/T4cDY-9iGXI/AAAAAAAABfA/g8uDxhxhSEI/s200/157351_1303576172_230960_n.jpg" />For obvious reasons if you follow this blog. </div><br /><div align="justify">2. President Gordon B. Hinckley. <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 149px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 160px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5730550453359222914" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Jqv-SdKvgHo/T4cBRovuIII/AAAAAAAABeo/ZlScZD1qz1w/s200/President%252BGordan%252BB_%252BHinckley.jpg" /></div><br /><div align="justify">President Hinckley did a lot for my family while he was alive. His counsel really helped cement my testimony. </div><br /><div align="justify">3. My sisters, Aimee & Jennifer. </div><br /><div align="justify">(Couldn't do one without the other, right?) Oh, hell, do we fight and yell. But we're sisters, that's what we do. They both drive me completely crazy (and I'm pure joy and sunshine 24-7, right?), but they are always there for me. No judgment (well, maybe a little judgment). (And strangely, I have no pictures of my sisters.) </div><br /><div align="justify">4. My friend, Missy. <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5730547583013883906" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-87S7OMIIyKk/T4b-qj4EEAI/AAAAAAAABeQ/Uuk1K5JwBzg/s200/Steel%2BMagnolias%2B2010%2B019.jpg" /><span style="font-size:78%;">(Sorry, Miss, the only picture I have of us is when we were both wearing horrible wigs!)</span></div><br /><div align="justify">Missy is the kind of person who just makes you happy to be around. She is the most sincere, loving person I have ever had the honor and privledge to know and I'm so happy that I can call her my friend. I hope she won't mind me divulging some private details, but Missy is not able to have children, and I've never met a person who deserved to be a mother more than she does. She's the reason that Mike and I decided to stop being selfish and to become parents. Plus, her totally awesome husband sounds just like Elder L. Tom Perry. </div><br /><div align="justify">5. My counsin, Malinda. </div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 134px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5730548324884333874" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-a4wh3lR3l1U/T4b_VvjwxTI/AAAAAAAABec/mrv4DgSKbYY/s200/Malinda.jpg" /> <br /><p align="justify">Malinda is an incredibly amazing person. She's literally been through hell and back and she's come out the other side with strength, amibtion and faith (and with two beautiful kids!)<br />6. Marilyn Monroe. </p><br /><p><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 135px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5730535449821037954" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-EqwyXUZlOWU/T4bzoUNdxYI/AAAAAAAABeE/zz7KOZ1RNHI/s200/Marilyn.jpg" /> Marilyn said, " Your clothes should be tight enough to show you're a woman, but loose enough to show you're a lady." Absolutely true. I wish more girls out there would follow this advice and realize they don't need to have all their, <em>ahem, </em>assets on display for the whole world to see. </p><br /><p>Plus, she was a size 14 when she made <em>Some Like It Hot </em>and she was still considered a sex icon.</p><br /><p align="justify">7. My nephew, Tyson. <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 166px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5730552253518443714" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iCgld0a_yRg/T4cC6a3H9MI/AAAAAAAABe0/PNVjAXFEZ8g/s200/Tyson.jpg" />Tyson is 10 years old. But he has a very tender heart and is such a good big brother to his brother and sister and a great cousin to Lucy. He always makes sure everyone is included and never lets anyone feel left out. Plus, we've recently learned he has a killer singing voice (we should probably really encourage that, Aimee!) </p><br /><p align="justify">8. My aunt, Linda. <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 114px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5730554618622089042" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IumvbwhrfbQ/T4cFEFjxl1I/AAAAAAAABfM/CpHqXWhFQXA/s200/Linda.jpg" />Linda has been through a lot in her life (and I'm still learning new things about her everyday). She has experienced great loss. I don't think she loves anything more than she loves her children and her grandchildren. Linda was baptized a member of the church at the same time as my mom, but she was never active until a few years ago. She is the reason I know that families are for eternity. And Lucy LOVES Aunt Linda. I mean, <em>LOVES </em>her. To the point of making Grandma jealous. Lucy always runs straight to Linda any time we see her. We can't figure it out. She senses how great Linda is. Plus (and no offense if he reads this), anyone who can live with my Uncle Marshall is assured a place in heaven! </p><br /><p align="justify">9. My (Mike's) niece, Heather. <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5730560094356137570" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XHAfMzPBkR0/T4cKC0QgZmI/AAAAAAAABfY/xw5nE8TzcA8/s200/Heather.jpg" /> Heather is the spokesperson for following your dreams! She recently returned to school to pursue a degree in dance and I couldn't be prouder of her (or more jealous that she gets to dance for 6 hours a day). She decided that was her dream and she went out and got it! </p><br /><p align="justify">10. Lucy. <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 148px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5730562003743790882" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GW4DXfd4Xyk/T4cLx9R_1yI/AAAAAAAABfk/S71HOhnOTro/s200/Lucy%2B-%2BMountain%2BAmerica%2BContest.jpg" />Being a mother is the hardest, most gratifying thing I have ever done. She has made me whole. </p>Mike & Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17787710712250485489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4765415965836465536.post-86037229527768797202012-04-11T08:07:00.001-07:002012-04-12T10:22:24.489-07:00Day 8: 30 Things in 30 Days<div align="center"><u>8. What are 5 passions you have?</u></div><br />1. Books.<br /><span style="color:#dbb7ff;"></span><br />2. Shoes (duh.)<br /><br />3. Lucy.<br /><br />4. The theater. Yes, please.<br /><br />5. Audrey Hepburn. Love, love, love her!Mike & Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17787710712250485489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4765415965836465536.post-68332442902641776812012-04-10T09:10:00.003-07:002012-04-10T09:27:29.204-07:00Day 7: 30 Thing in 30 Days<div align="center"><u>7. What is your dream job, and why?</u></div><br /><div align="justify">It's amazing how life changes you. </div><br /><div align="justify">5 years ago I would have said my dream job was to be an attorney (no thank you; I'd rather not be bitter and mean and treat people like dirt). </div><br /><div align="justify">10 years ago I had a crazy pipe dream of going to New York and auditioning for Broadway shows (Ha! I definitely don't have the talent for that). </div><br /><div align="justify">I can't believe I'm saying this, but now the only thing I want in the whole world is to be a stay-at-home mom and be able to be with Lucy everyday. </div><br /><div align="justify">And if you'd asked me what my dream job was 5 years ago (or even 1 year ago) there's no way I would have said stay-at-home mom. I thought I always wanted to work - but now I would give my right arm to be able to stay with Lucy. </div><br /><div align="justify">Literally. You can have my right arm! Cut it right off! I won't complain or miss it! Hugging Lucy might be a bit more difficult, but I'll take it if it means I don't have to miss any more of her life. I'll gladly become a one-armed woman!</div><br /><div align="justify">I envy those moms who are able to stay home with their kids. I know a lot of them out there don't even appreciate what they have. You are so lucky! Be grateful that you get to experience the tiny moments each day with your child. You get to see milestones that us working moms miss. You don't have to worry about your child not knowing who their "momma" is. </div><br /><div align="justify">Alas, for me, it is just a dream job that will probably never be fulfilled. </div>Mike & Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17787710712250485489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4765415965836465536.post-752168175123406592012-04-09T09:29:00.002-07:002012-04-09T10:47:06.346-07:00Day 6: 30 Things in 30 Days<div align="center"><u>6. What is the hardest thing you have ever experienced? </u></div><br /><em>Pass</em>Mike & Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17787710712250485489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4765415965836465536.post-32551870703397237762012-04-08T08:43:00.000-07:002012-04-09T09:15:09.296-07:00Day 5: 30 Things in 30 Days<div align="center"><u>5. What are the 5 things that make you most happy right now?<br /></u><br /></div><br />1. Lucy<br />2. Lucy<br />3. New shoes<br />4. Mike<br />5. Lucy<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5729434205954995874" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Le6yGdJe0Lc/T4MKDfHrdqI/AAAAAAAABd4/JIO2LezmIDc/s200/Lucy%2Bwith%2BDiet%2BCoke%2Bcan%2B03-31-2012.JPG" />Mike & Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17787710712250485489noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4765415965836465536.post-45166928742727312162012-04-07T08:18:00.001-07:002012-04-09T08:42:39.946-07:00Day 4: 30 Things in 30 Days<div align="center"><u>4. List 10 things you would tell your 16 year-old self, if you could.</u></div><br />1. Study harder.<br /><br />2. Lighten up. Don't be so judgmental.<br /><span style="BACKGROUND-COLOR: #dbb7ff"></span><br />3. You will be friends with Mary and Angie for a very long time. Appreciate them.<br /><br />4. Speaking of friends, get rid of the dumb blonde one. She does not treat you right and will eventually rip your heart out and stab you in the back. Dump her NOW.<br /><br />5. Take a few risks. <br /><span style="BACKGROUND-COLOR: #dbb7ff"></span><br />6. Your sisters are great.<br /><br />7. Some day you <em>will </em>marry a wonderful man. <br /><br />8. Take more pictures of your grandparents. They won't be around forever and you will miss them immensly.<br /><br />9. Keep dancing.<br /><br />10. Yes, he's gone. It will be hard and you will still miss him, but it will get easier. You still won't be able to sing "Called to Serve."Mike & Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17787710712250485489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4765415965836465536.post-9409393900536190542012-04-06T08:08:00.004-07:002012-04-06T11:54:32.328-07:00Day 3: 30 Things in 30 Days<div align="center"><u>3. Describe your relationship with your parents</u>.</div><br /><div align="justify">I don't think there is anything I could say that could convey the feelings of love, respect and devotion I have for my parents. </div><br /><div align="justify">My mom is bascially my best friend and lately, I'd say that my dad is Mike's best friend (they'd probably both deny it, though). </div><br /><div align="justify">My dad survived being the only male in a house full of girls (not an easy task, I'm sure, especially at certain times of the month). </div><br /><div align="justify">Funny story: About 10 years ago, we were all at my cousin's wedding in Las Vegas, and they were passing out champagne for the toast. Well, being the goody-two shoes that I am, I had never tasted alcohol before, so I tried one teeny-tiny sip (it was nasty, by the way). My dad was so disappointed in me and gave me a big lecture on how he was so proud that he had never tasted alcohol in his entire life. Oh, the shame that I felt! (I HATE disappointing my dad.) Well, come to find out - when he was on his mission, he and his companion decided to try to make home-made rootbeer and . . . (can you see where this is heading?) they brewed something a little stronger than rootbeer in their Brazilian apartment. THE HYPOCRITE! AND ON HIS MISSION! Guilt be gone from me! </div><br /><div align="justify">My dad is an extremely spiritual man (despite his "rootbeer" incident), and gets choked up on several occasions. He's the reason we say we can't read the phone book without crying. I really love that about him. </div><br /><div align="justify">Especially since I married a man with no heart.<br />Bazinga. </div><br /><div align="justify">My mom. </div><br /><div align="justify">I still apsire to be just like her. </div><br /><div align="justify">She is the most creative, wonderful person ever (if you follow pinterest - she can make anything on there and I'm sure most everything was her idea to begin with). </div><br /><div align="justify">I'm so lucky that if I can't be with Lucy during the day, at least she's with someone who loves her so much. I think she said "Grandma (Oh-ma)" before she said "Momma." </div><br /><div align="justify">I often say that Mike and I work because Mike is just like my mom and I'm just like my dad. (Again, Mike will probably disagree, but it's true).<br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 157px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5728305249475078994" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-r8491xdb3EE/T38HRkf3q1I/AAAAAAAABds/TJzsaUZlkvs/s200/157351_1303576172_230960_n.jpg" /></div>There's a lot more I could say about how wonderful my parents are, but the believe this gush-fest has gone on long enough!Mike & Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17787710712250485489noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4765415965836465536.post-82410523543389313952012-04-05T08:13:00.006-07:002012-04-05T08:25:42.802-07:00Day 2: 30 Things in 30 Days<div align="center"><u>Describe 3 legitimate fears you have and explain how they became fears</u><br /></div><br /><div align="justify">1. Driving in the snow. And not just me driving in the snow. Being in a car while it's snowing scares the beejeeus out of me. Me + snow = NO. </div><br /><div align="justify">I'm not really sure where this fear came from. Although I do have a memory of being in the backseat of my parents car and us trying to get up "Horsley's Hill" during a blizzard, and me trying not to panic as we were sliding closer and closer to the nearby bottomless gully.<br /></div><br /><div align="justify">2. Committment. This one (obviously) isn't a fear anymore considering Mike and I have been married for almost 6 years. But back when I was single and working for a divorce attorney - there wasn't even money in the world to make me consider getting married, as all I was seeing day after day was the destruction of the family and the hurt (and whining) that divorce causes. No, thank you. (Just shows how smooth Mike is!)</div><br /><div align="justify">3. That something bad will happen to Lucy. I still sneak into her bedroom at night to make sure she's breathing. <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5727936952927731890" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Fo3qroQNSyQ/T324T48XQLI/AAAAAAAABdg/8OAoG9eKglM/s200/Lucy%2BSleeping%2B2.JPG" /></div>Mike & Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17787710712250485489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4765415965836465536.post-27887862838757258772012-04-04T11:03:00.008-07:002012-04-04T12:20:34.068-07:0030 Things in 30 Days<div align="justify">A friend of mine put this on her blog, and I think I'm gonna try it too.<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 180px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 178px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5727626071043392930" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5V7vVwAz5DI/T3ydkLrOxaI/AAAAAAAABdU/3RzJY6k7kZQ/s200/30%2Bthings%2Bbutton.jpg" /><a href="http://cherishinghopesanddreams.blogspot.com/2012/01/30-things.html"><span style="font-size:78%;">http://cherishinghopesanddreams.blogspot.com/2012/01/30-things.html</span></a><span style="font-size:78%;"><br /></span><br /><div align="justify">I have full expectations that I'll fall behind or not do some, but I'm gonna give it my all.</div><br /><div align="justify">Prepare to learn new things about me (outside the fact that I have a teeny-tiny obsession with shoes). </div><br /><div align="justify">Today's Thing: </div><br /><div align="center"><u>List 20 Random Facts About Yourself</u></div><br /><div align="justify">1. I am a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (you know, the Mormons). </div><br /><div align="justify">2. My favorite color is purple.</div><br /><div align="justify">3. I am the middle child of 3 girls (now <em>there's </em>an excuse to use the "middle child syndrome if I ever heard one). </div><br /><div align="justify">4. I still claim to be 21 years old and hate my birthday. (Just my birthday - I fully support and celebrate others birthdays.) </div><br /><div align="justify">5. If I could go anywhere in the world I would pick New York City (never been, <em>dying </em>to go).</div><br /><div align="justify">6. I am a HUGE Yankees fan. The reason I am a Yankees fan? Two words: Derek Jeter. <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 94px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 123px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5727622948536219890" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rH3XlnOuyVA/T3yaubbgePI/AAAAAAAABcY/VeZW27Unrj4/s200/New-York-Yankees-Logo-iPhone-Wallpaper-Download.jpg" /></div><br /><div align="justify">7. I love pancakes.</div><br /><div align="justify">8. I used to be allergic to chocolate. It would give me migraines and still does to this day if I eat too much of it. But that doesn't stop me from eating it. </div><br /><div align="justify">9. I work in a building that is over 100 years old.<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 83px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 142px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5727623305773018802" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wqk0rtp62c0/T3ybDOPZbrI/AAAAAAAABck/7HPp0nVK9Xs/s200/YD4L2247web.jpg" />10. I get at least 3 papercuts on my hands a day. </div><br /><div align="justify">11. I can play the guitar. (By "play" I mean I own a guitar and can pick-out about 5 songs.)</div><br /><div align="justify">12. I am a HUGE Broadway geek. (True story: last night I'm in the car with my parents and they are telling me about a production of <em>Bye Bye Birdie </em>they recently saw. So, I started singing songs from the show. My dad asks how I know all the words to all the songs. Duh. <em>Has he met me?!) </em>I think Mike is worried Lucy will know more Sondheim than The Cure. </div><br /><div align="justify">14. Notice how I skipped #13, that's because I'm superstitious. My daughter was born at 11:02 at night on the 12th because I refused to have her born on the 13th. </div><br /><div align="justify">15. My dream role is Elphaba in <em>Wicked </em>(along with 99% of every other girl in the theater). But I would gladly be Diana in <em>A Chorus Line</em> (will never happen - I'm too white). </div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 171px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 176px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5727624259993420034" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lyEHLc7XLvM/T3yb6w_RQQI/AAAAAAAABcw/3PVmqyBEw8w/s200/elphaba-green-witch-design.jpg" />16. I started taking dance classes at the age of 3.<br /><br /><div align="justify">17. Mike and I met playing "Spin the Bottle." And no, we weren't in Junior High. </div><br /><div align="justify">18. My favorite movie is <em>Breakfast at Tiffany's. </em>I definitely identify with the "mean reds."<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 136px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5727624692793060914" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--I43PSbM57Y/T3ycT9SvrjI/AAAAAAAABc8/zCI8sdQHlTw/s200/orig-12748671.jpg" /></div><br /><div align="justify">19. I always have a song running through my head. Currently it's Beyonce's "Best Thing I Never Had." </div><br /><div align="justify">20. I detested football until Mike converted me. Now I love it (well, some of it). <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 149px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5727624898620462690" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KreyHwboHAc/T3ycf8D0lmI/AAAAAAAABdI/4aTi9YcK_BE/s200/imagesCAY943BF.jpg" /></div></div>Mike & Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17787710712250485489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4765415965836465536.post-32027240943814720192012-03-27T15:59:00.009-07:002012-03-27T16:14:17.702-07:00My Best Things in Life . . .Aren't "things." <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5724715600239692930" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ObD4AtJEqVU/T3JGgfBsjII/AAAAAAAABa4/HlDwFJ6l3II/s200/Lucy%2Bin%2Bpurple%2Bdress.JPG" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5724719055236774834" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Eqykw_nv5aw/T3JJpl5MO7I/AAAAAAAABcA/v1Zp1xx4Bh8/s200/Kids%2Bat%2BCemetery.JPG" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5724718544941283570" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-U6qPNZgnFi4/T3JJL45Q-PI/AAAAAAAABb0/56soKNhQb9w/s200/Lucy%2BReading.JPG" />To quote an over-used cliche.<br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5724718450086196226" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tcKx0PQgD-o/T3JJGXiDNAI/AAAAAAAABbo/lRLWQgJB884/s200/Lucy%2B%2526%2BMike%2BSleeping.JPG" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5724715540740166306" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HHhvxFuKEaQ/T3JGdBX50qI/AAAAAAAABas/PoOeEK_Bdvk/s200/Lucy%2Bin%2Bpurple%2Bboots.JPG" />Although, I would count shoes as one of the best things.<br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 133px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5724716365589752386" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dh1hRVFtDM8/T3JHNCLXqkI/AAAAAAAABbE/U0sYZvMVH-g/s200/imagesCAR2UEQI.jpg" />And chocolate cake.<br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 160px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5724716816930139490" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6UQ-p4_Yqx0/T3JHnTjTbWI/AAAAAAAABbc/k6BF60cDLnY/s200/200512-r-chocolate-cake.jpg" />Mike & Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17787710712250485489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4765415965836465536.post-86136873290192754992012-03-05T09:10:00.011-08:002012-03-05T11:57:26.691-08:00Big Hair and Valentine's Day<div align="justify">As those who know me know, I am against Valentine's Day. </div><br /><div align="justify">Quite frankly, I think it's the stupidest holiday ever created. </div><br /><div align="justify">I don't really understand why it's even a holiday. </div><br /><div align="justify">However . . . </div><br /><div align="justify">This year, since it's no longer just the 2 of us and nights out are few and far between, I decided to suck it up and embrace all the nauseated-ness that comes with Valentine's Day (gag me now). </div><br /><div align="justify">Which means I gave Mike this:<span style="color:#dbb7ff;"> <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 140px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5716466450519156306" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TpVPWSGsSYA/T1T38xmh5lI/AAAAAAAABZk/Y31dBdOuJKg/s200/CandyBouquet.jpg" /></span>And in return, he took me to see this: <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 124px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5716467002866429346" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-A1vXgMsPl0k/T1T4c7QYbaI/AAAAAAAABZ8/3sl9mFh8REU/s200/Marquee.jpg" /><br />Boo-yeah! It was RAD! (To quote some venacular from the '80's.) </div><br /><div align="justify">Now, being only 21 years old, I, of course, was not alive when the songs in this show first came into circulation. But Mike was. And I thought he'd be excited to see a musical with songs from Poison, Guns N' Roses, and White Snake. <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5716493337928492114" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LmREkiw7K0Q/T1UQZ1AdZFI/AAAAAAAABaI/-SA96Qzkjno/s200/Stage.JPG" />He was slightly put off by the Starship and REO Speedwagon numbers. I think he groaned loudest when they started the opening bars of "We Built This City." (Can you blame him?)</div><br /><div align="justify">So, we're sitting there, having a grand time (I'm singing at the top of my lungs and head-banging with the rest of the audience (Mike just sat there)), when . . . </div><br /><div align="justify">Let's just say we could smell him before we saw him.</div><br /><div align="justify">I don't know if he was trying to combat the greasy, dirty, smelly image that the rock stars of the '80's tended to put off, but the actor who played Stacey Jaxx came strolling right by us - and he was wearing so much cologne, we could still smell it by the time the show was over and it lingered until we left. Bleech! <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5716496831733794818" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2J1tsFPTgF8/T1UTlMcjiAI/AAAAAAAABaU/dk-4oSomwco/s200/Cast.jpg" />And we both agreed that the girl who played Sherrie wasn't that great. </div><br /><div align="justify">But all in all, it was so much fun (definitely NOT a show for kids - there's some swearing and Sherrie becomes a stripper (I think Mike enjoyed that part the most))! The show definitely has some flaws (the book isn't all that coherent and it makes fun of itself as a Broadway show way too often), but if you were a child of the '80's (again, I'm too young), it's a riot!</div><br /><div align="justify">I was most disappointed in the audience: I didn't see a single leopard skin tube-top or a head of big, crimped hair in the whole crowd. </div>Mike & Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17787710712250485489noreply@blogger.com2