all you need is, LOVE.

Have you ever had a perfect weekend? I just did. With my dad and two of my sisters. In Vegas. We ate delicious food, lounged by the pool, laughed, ate some more, got all dolled up, saw The Beatles' LOVE, lounged by the pool some more, and then hugged goodbye and went our separate ways again. Yes, I shed a few tears. It was perfect. There wasn't an ounce of contention, not a bit of drama. Just a whole lotta Love. Kinda fit, I thought.

My dad, is the bomb. Can I just say this. And if you are a Meaker girl you will get the joke behind this. If not, sorry.

But he is the bomb. He flew us all to Las Vegas, rented a convertable, put us up in the beautiful Mirage, took us to eat at AMAZING restaurants, bought us seats on the 2nd row to see Cirque du Soleil perform unbelievable acrobatics to Beatles' music. My dad knows how to treat his girls. We all felt like princesses. And he's a good sport too, totally patient while we took hours to get ready...

here's a little taste of our perfect weekend.



together again. i've missed my sisters.

we had to ride down the strip with the top down, but this also meant that we had to pile the suitcases in the back and Meghan sat on my lap. A little claustrophobic, and a numb leg. Totally worth it.

This was the most amazing straw in the world. It's like triple the normal side, you can totally sip a milkshake through it. Why has no one thought of this before? Mmmm.

Breakfast buffets, best things about Vegas. All the pastries I could eat. Ah, yeah!
Lounging by the pool. The Mirage seriously has the biggest pool I've ever seen, and acres and acres of lounge chairs, waterfalls, and palm trees surrounding it.

Outside the Beatles' shop, all dressed up for the show.
My dad found this fantastic vintage Beatles shirt. He's so hip and wore it with his sport coat and slacks to the show. My dad is a stud. He kept joking that people either thought he was our dad or really really rich. (it's Vegas after all). Ha ha, right. Well we're waiting for the show to start and the photographer comes over and asks to take our picture. My dad tells her all four of us were together, so she goes, "And who's the couple here?" HAHAHA! "He's our dad!" We laughed so hard. I think she was a little embarrassed. We should have told her we were ALL with him, wink wink.

Dinner at the fabulously delicious, Stack.

This place was so luxurious. The food was amazing, two waiters per table, a bathroom attendant to open your door and hand you a towel/mints/hairspray/or whatever else you might need, someone who comes and folds your napkin whenever you get up from your table... I could go on and on. I told you my dad knows how to treat his girls. I am spoiled.


Hanging out after dinner, waiting for the show to start.
In front of the hotel. You can see the sign for the show above our heads.

Walking on the strip, trying to get all the soda through us so we wouldn't have to go during the show. The Beatles are serious business for us.
What a stud, no wonder people thought we were with him. he he he. (Volcano at the Mirage)More moments on the strip.

Meghan is a fox.
Me in front of the hotel, check out the silk shirt Craig bought be for my trip... (i'm in love with it)

the end.

Sedona

We went camping last weekend. Fantastic. They say Sedona is one of the 10 most beautiful places in the U.S. They weren't kidding. Seriously gorgeous. Pictures, enjoy.
Setting up camp, Daddy and his helpersDiscovering a catapillar for the first time.the world's most gorgeous baby. you've just seen him. there he is.We need a bigger car, I think.Slide rock, amazing.it was a little chilly.Montezuma's CastleOne tired baby, and Mommy.

The end.

L.O.V.E.

In 2 days I will be climbing on a plane and jetting my way to Las Vegas to meet my fantastically generous and awesome father and my fabulous sisters to see this show:

the ultimate daddy-daughter date.

Beatles + Cirque du Soleil, mmmmm.

I can't wait.

ps. just in case you were wondering, if you are a Meaker you are obsessed with the Beatles.

it's pretty much a guarantee.

thanks dad. for the trip... and the obsession.

tunes

The other day while driving in the car with the kidlets, the song "Love Shack" came on the radio. I was magically transformed back to High School, at every school/stake dance. There's a great radio station down here in Phoenix that plays music like that. You know one of those stations that plays 80's 90's and today... Except they actually play the good stuff. The songs that are worth remembering from the 80's and 90's. Back in Utah the radio stations always did an 80's lunch hour and played possibly every worst song from the 80's. All the obscure ones that no one really remembers. This radio station, I like. They just throw in a song here or there from decades past and they are always good ones. Ones that make me feel like I'm actually 16 again.

But back to the other day. We were just driving in the car running errands and that familiar drum beat began. "OOOOH!" Carter yelled from the back seat. "I like this song Mommy!" I turned around, "You do?" I asked. "Yeah," he yelled excitedly and so I turned it up and sat in the parking lot so we could listen to the entire almost 5 minute song, even though we had already arrived at the store. My kids are starting to discover that they like and don't like certain music. For instance, anytime a Pink song comes on the radio, Hannah asks me to change it because, "this is the angry music." W.O.W. My four year old nailed Pink.

So a few days later it was Saturday and I was cooking french toast on Texas bread for the fam. I had the radio on, and right there at 8:30 am they played "Love Shack." That's another thing I love about this radio station, they're not afraid to play the good loud, dance in your seat ones in the morning. Nice way to wake up. Fun thing to run to...

Carter squeals in delight "It's the bang bang on the door song!" I turn it way up, and we dance around the townhouse until the song is over, while Daddy and Ethan wait patiently at the table for us to stop prancing so we can all eat.

This morning I placed the kidlets at the table to feed them and Carter looks up and me and says, "I want the bang bang on the door song to come on the radio mom," and he looked longingly at the little music box sitting on the kitchen counter. Hm, I thought. "Give me a second, bud." I said going to my computer and pulling up playlist.com. Brilliant.

Before long those drum beats started and they spooned cereal gleefully into their mouths while shimmying their hips to the tune of the looooooooooooove, shaaaaaaaaaaaack.

looooooooooooove it.

for matt, on your 29th birthday

Dear Matt,

You're 29 today, buddy. I can't believe that. If I was there I would sit with you this morning and listen to your oldies. And I would sing along with you, but I wouldn't know the words as well as you. And I would take you to lunch at McDonalds so you could get 2 hamburgers, fries and a diet coke. I would watch you sitting on the floor of your room in the afternoon with your legs crossed in a hyper-extended indian style. I would take you to the movies this evening and I would buy you popcorn and soda, and then half-way through I would surprise you with a Hershey's chocolate bar, and you would probably smile at me. I would listen to you whisper movie facts at me while it plays, and we would stay until all the credits had rolled so you could read all the names. And then we would talk about what happened the whole drive home. And I would give you a chocolate birthday cake with 29 candles on it and watch as you roll your eyes when dad says you smell like a monkey at the end of the song. I would give you a big hug, Matt if I were there, and say happy birthday, and then watch you drift to sleep like the angel you are. Happy, content. You live for your birthday, we all do. I wish I was there.

Love,

Your Little Sis.

mi-cro-burst. [mahy-kruh-burst]

mi-cro-burst: 
definition: an intense, localized downdraft of air that spreads on the ground, causing rapid changes in wind direction and speed; a localized downburst.

translation: a huge gust of wind that appears out of nowhere on a seemingly calm and sunny arizona day and is able to lift 200 pound metal pool umbrellas off the ground and send them barrelling full force toward you, while you are standing unaware and holding your 18 month old. which then knocks you completely unconscious and leaves one heck of a bruise on your face, elbow, leg, and on your baby's head; also giving you a sore and swollen jaw, and a stiff neck.

yeah, i wish i was kidding. out. cold.

happy memorial day.

i'm excited because this guy doesn't have to go to work.

ps. thanks to the veterans.

the irony of being a mother.

that i could love this kid so much and still want to strangle him when he is squawking at the top of his lungs the entire time we are trying to enjoy a quiet evening at the olive garden on friday night is beyond me. seriously, both of us were prepared to flog him by the time we left, even though the other two were angelic (a first- believe me), and yet, by the time we get home he's being his cute squashy cuddly self and we can't help but love all over him and devour those delicious cheeks. how is that possible?