What Doesn't Kill You Makes You Stronger or GO MY LIFE!

"What doesn't kill you makes you stronger."
I didn't believe that for a long time, but now I know it's true. After two years of riding a brutal and unpredictable emotional roller coaster, I can finally say, "I'm happy, free, and stronger than ever." HIP HIP HOORAY! Or as my sister, Laurie, would say, "Go My Life!"

Me (left) w/my sister, Laurie, Cabo, Oct. '10

LIFE IS GOOD
Life is once again beautiful, fun, exciting, and filled with great possibilities. I'm currently:

• Pursuing my music. (Again!)
• Taking yoga classes. (*OM*)
• Going back to school for Criminal Justice. (Look out, bad guys!)
• In a healthy and happy relationship. (Thanks, honey!)
• Taking piano lessons. (Learning how to read music - YIKES!)
• Doing a Communications Course through Landmark Education. (Transformational work is good for the heart, mind, and soul.)
• Finishing edits on my latest book!!! (Can't wait to query again!)

My last "live" performance, Oct. '09

Me & Bobby, April '12

My "new" piano!

TOUGH TIMES?
My advice to anyone going through a difficult time: 

 Me w/some people who love me: Mom, sisters Michelle, Sharon, Laurie, & Dad.

• DON'T GIVE UP on yourself or on life. (Don't let the bastards get you down!)
• LEAN ON PEOPLE who love you. (It makes them feel better, too!)
• LOVE YOURSELF & YOUR LIFE. (There are brighter days ahead!)
• When you're going through hell, KEEP GOING. (per Winston Churchill)
• HANG IN THERE long enough to get past the pain. (You'll be amazed at how much better you'll feel.) 
• You will GET THROUGH IT. (And life will be better than ever!) 

RIDE THE WAVES OF LIFE WITH GRACE
We all experience pain, suffering, loss, anger, jealousy, sadness, and grief. Maintain your dignity and live life with grace. Remember, you are beautiful, precious, loved, and deserve the best life has to offer. If you believe in yourself and follow your heart, you will not be disappointed.

LIFE CAN AND WILL GET BETTER! (I swear, it's true!)

Dear Teen Me...

Go here and read and comment! http://dearteenme.com/2012/04/25/dear-teen-me-from-author-debra-lynn-lazar-the-secret-keeper/

Hidden in Plain Sight

Sometimes what (or in this case, who) you're looking for is hidden in plain sight.

Most of you know I am a writer, but you may not know I also have a small interior design business. As an interior designer, I have a theory: often times you have what you need. It might be a lamp, a small table, a vase, or a chair, but whatever it is, you often already possess it. Look around. You might not see it at first, because it's being used in another capacity or in a room with different decor. However, many times, what you need is already there. All it takes to find it is your imagination and the ability to see things in a new light.

This is what I've done, except not with a lamp or a vase or a chair. It's what I've done with my life partner. 

As some of you know, I was in a relationship with SG (Special Guy) who I met less than six weeks after my ex left. When we met, I was an emotional disaster. SG was wonderful and made me feel special. He held me as I cried rivers of tears and told me everything would be alright. "These things take time," he said. He knew from experience. He'd been through it himself. His kind words and gentle touches helped heal a small part of the painful hole in my heart. 

But, two months ago, I broke up with SG. I realized I needed to be on my own, date other guys, and spread my wings. I'd never lived alone and never dated much, since my ex and I got together when we were both very young. I joined Match.com and dated. A lot. I went on 15 dates in six weeks and enjoyed every one of them.

One night I was out on a date with a nice, Jewish doctor from New York. Between a bite of spicy tuna roll and a sip of hot sake, it hit me: I already had what (who) I was searching for. In an instant, everything seemed clear. I could barely wait to end the (quite lovely) date I was on and speak to my ex-boyfriend. I hoped he missed me, would forgive me for leaving, and would take me back.

I'd posted on my Match.com profile that, "I'll know you're the one when you hold me in your arms and I feel like I'm home."

My ex-boyfriend came over that night and we held each other tight. I sunk into his arms and knew I was home.

This two year journey from when my ex-husband left until now has been the most challenging and enlightening time of my life. My boyfriend (yes, we are back together again, and this time for good!), kids, parents, sisters, and a few, close friends lifted me up, dusted me off, and time after time, pointed me in the right direction. Also, many of you wrote inspiring words of encouragement on my blog or Twitter, and for that I will always be grateful.

So, what or who in your life are you "missing?" What or who is hidden in plain sight? Look around. You may be surprised.

Goddess of My Existence or Time For Me to Fly

I am in a period of great transition and growth. I am "coming alive," feeling the winds of change blowing; the Earth spinning beneath my feet.

Experiencing life by myself for the first time in over 30 years is one of the greatest gifts imaginable. I am allowing my direction to flow naturally and my spirit to soar purely and authentically. As someone  smart once told me, I am learning to, "Move my brilliant ass out of the way and let the magic happen!" 

In keeping with listening to the (non-psychotic) voices from within (I do my best to ignore the truly crazy ones)...

I purchased a used Baldwin upright piano (pics to follow after it's delivered). Baldwin, by the way, is the name of the town I grew up in on Long Island; a place where I had a ridiculously happy childhood. Coincidence? Maybe. But I'm inclined to believe less in coincidence as I grow older. 

I am dating in a powerful and fun way. It is a treat to be with people and listen to where they are along their journey, all the while searching for "the one" I will share the second half of my life with. 

I've been dancing like no one's watching (which, unless there are holes in my walls I'm unaware of, they're not) and getting a huge amount of joy (and cardio work-outs!) from it. Music moves me like nothing else, yet I've pushed it away in order to heal. Maybe the next step will be to start writing songs again? I hope so. That would be truly wonderful. 

I am spending time with my cat, Emma, who emulates all things Zen.

I've been offered a publishing contract with an independent publisher that I am considering.

And, I am enjoying the sweet melodies in the peace that surrounds me; beautiful sounds I've successfully muted much of my life.

Next month will be exactly two years since my 7.5 magnitude emotional earthquake. I was told it takes two years to get over such an event, and from my present vantage point, I would have to agree. I am finally feeling whole again; happy, calm, and totally at peace with the unknown that lies ahead. What I do know is I get to create the direction of my life. I am the artist yielding the brush; the writer holding the quill; the sculptor molding the clay. I am the goddess of my existence, able to sprinkle magic dust wherever and however I please.

With friends and family lifting me up with their ever-present love and support, I feel safe and able to spread my wings. In the words of REO Speedwagon, "I believe it's time for me to fly."

Not Dead, Just Cruising

Some of you may have wondered if 1) I'd died or, 2) was beamed up by hot, George Clooney-like aliens. No and no. (Though, I could think of worse things than #2.) Instead, I was on vacation with my parents.

Since my writing skills seem to still be floating somewhere on the Caribbean Sea, I'll simply post some pictures.

Native Dancers in St. Kitts

Hope all is well in your worlds!

St. Kitts

St. Kitts

It's true. I have a monkey on my back. St. Kitts

St. Lucia - We Be Jammin'

View from my balcony.

Obligatory Fruity Drink Picture

Antigua

Judy and Fred - Formal Night

Me & my daddy - ;-)

St. Lucia

St. Lucia

Emerald Princess

Antigua Catamaran Ride

Beautiful St. Lucia

Me zip lining in Barbados

Turning Point - UPDATED

Most days are simply continuations of the day before or a subtle lead in to tomorrow. But some days are turning points. Today is one of those days.

Last night, not long after midnight, I finished edits on my new manuscript. A huge psychic weight lifted off off my shoulders. (As any writer knows, it's the next best thing to writing, "The End!") I played a game of Spider Solitaire in celebration, promised myself a Grand Marnier in the near future, and headed up to bed. At 6AM I got back up. I hadn't slept a wink.

I did, however, feel a cold coming on. At first I thought it was allergies, but instead of subsiding, the sneezes, stuffiness, and itchy eyes progressed. I haven't been sick, even with a slight cold, in almost three years.

2008

1982

The day after I got married, I was struck with a high fever. After all the planning and gown buying and reception-hall-picking and as-close-to-perfect-as-possible-wedding-celebrations were over, my body gave in.

That was a turning point. 

And so is this.

I'm adeptly in tune with my body, as I think many people (read: women) are. The slightest ache or weakness is noted and carefully monitored by my inner doctor. Almost always, the ache or perceived rise in temperature passes, and my inner doctor relaxes and reverts to "on call" status. My body is again giving in, but not due to the beginning of a marriage.

My attorney emailed me this morning asking me to sign a document. I clicked on the page and saw, "Affidavit of Consent."

 The marriage of the Plaintiff and Defendant is irretrievably broken. 

October 2010

I will be signing my name on a divorce decree after 27 years of marriage. 

A turning point like few others.

I know what you're thinking: Get plenty of rest and push the fluids.

That's exactly what I plan to do. And, then I'll hold my head high, put one foot in front of the other, and proudly walk forward into my new unimaginable future. 

Laurie (my sister) & Peter's Wedding. 10.01.11 Centennial, CO

(Special thanks to my family, friends, and Bob Shelton for making that future possible.)

EPIPHANY: In regards to this post, a friend of mine wrote on FB: "I always got sick right after nationals. Means you've done great things, lady." She was a talented swimmer in HS. Interesting viewpoint, given it took me an entire year to complete my novel and am now dealing, in a more serious way, with the end of a LTR. Pushing yourself forward through the eye of a life-changing needle is like giving birth. Right now I'm in psychic labor, and the aches, pains, stuffy head, and sore throat are what I must feel to give birth to a new life...mine.

*I love that I found an art gallery to represent this post. Artistic expression, in all its' facets, is one of the things I'm most committed to at this turning point in my life.

Tick Tock, Tick Tock...

Sitting in my study editing my manuscript, I hear the tick tock, tick tock of time passing by. As the 100-year old clock that belonged to my grandmother arouses my consciousness, I'm made aware of the tiny fraction of time I have left here on Earth.

As each second clicks by, I wonder...

Have I accomplished what I set out to?
Am I where I thought I'd be/wanted to be at this point in my journey?
Am I holding grudges that prohibit me from powerfully moving forward?
Have my dreams shifted purposefully or faded away?
Do those in my life know how deeply I love them?
Am I allowing the artist in me to be fully expressed?
Have I apologized to the people I've wronged?
Am I dancing in the rain or running for shelter?
Am I lifting others up and helping them reach their potential?
Do my children know their presence in this world is my greatest gift?
Will I make the most of the time I have left?
Will I have the courage to live the rest of my life in accordance with my values?
At every tick of the clock, am I being the truest expression of me?

A Novel New Year

For my first post of the New Year, I'm not going to bore you with any of the normal BS like resolutions or things I hope to accomplish before the next ball drops (heads out of the gutter, people, the one in Times Square). Nope, I've got far more interesting news.

I FINISHED THE NOVEL I STARTED LAST JANUARY!!!
http://www.spike.com/video-clips/8th6j8/that-novel-you-ve-been-working-on
I know, amazing, right? No? Okay, fine. This may not be the most exciting thing you've heard so far this year, I mean, Michele Bachmann just "suspended her campaign" (bullshit way of saying, "dropped out of the race" - she probably learned it from Sarah Palin who "suspended her governorship") and Tim Tebow's conversations with Jesus have led my beloved Denver Broncos to the playoffs, but I hope we can all agree the fact that I FINISHED THE NOVEL I STARTED LAST JANUARY!!! is pretty damn exciting.

I'm currently editing and wondering why things are going so smoothly. Could it be that the more you write, the better you get? Or is it something more intangible, like luck mixed with determination sprinkled with more luck? Either way, I'm grateful. This was a difficult and cathartic book to write, and I'm excited to usher it into the world.

IN OTHER NEWS...

My cats, Mia (top) and Emma (bottom), still hate each other. I'm not being melodramatic, it's true. They can't stand the fact that the other exists on the same planet, never mind in the same house. We've tried everything, new toys, Pounce (aka Kitty Crack), whispering in their ears, scratching them under the chin, and blasting Stray Cats music, but nothing has worked. We even promised them each a new car (a Jaguar or Cougar), but they acted as if they could care less. Any tips on how to bond a friendship between two, female felines would be freaking fantastic.

Also, the countdown is on for a 10-day Caribbean cruise with my honey and my parents! Four weeks from this Friday we leave for Ft. Lauderdale. (What's with all the "f" words, you ask? I have no fucking clue!)

I've been asked by the Academy to keep my comments short, so that's all for now, folks. I hope 2012 brings you all the goodies you deserve. And, on behalf of insane people and comedians everywhere, let me say, "Palin-Bachmann - 2016!"

And one more thing... HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ETHAN!!! I love you bunches and bunches x infinity.

No Big Deal, Only... The Purpose of Life

Tis the Season to Reflect. 

I celebrated my birthday this past weekend, and we're in the midst of the holiday season. In honor of time passing and days celebrated, here's a post I wrote a few months back on the purpose of life. 

Good tidings to all!

Eureka! 

I've got some good news, folks. I figured it all out! The search for a purpose, motivation for living, reason for the rhyme is so much easier than we thought: We are here to be awed by our own and each others' divinity.

If it's that simple, why is happiness so elusive?

Because we humans love to complain. We don't have enough. We're not rich enough, smart enough, good looking enough, respected enough, or loved enough. We wish [insert friend or relative here] acted differently. We wish certain things did or didn't happen. Wah. Wah. Wah. Poor, sad us. What's the point to all of our suffering and why is it so damn hard to be happy?

 

It's hard to be happy because we think everything needs to make sense!

Our purpose is not to understand, but to experience. We're here to love and be loved, to learn and to teach, to laugh and to cry, to amaze and be amazed. We're here to feel joy and anger, ecstasy and sadness, attraction and rejection. We are here to create, appreciate, and forgive.  

Good Life/Bad Life. It's your call.

We've been granted a brief span of time here on Earth, and what we do with it is our choice. We can be cruel or kind, compassionate or uncaring, generous or stingy, selfish or selfless. We can manifest our gifts, challenge ourselves, and listen closely, or we can ignore our talents, be lazy, and remain deaf to the needs of others. Your choices determine the quality of your life. Don't eff it up. 

What rocks your world?

My soul speaks through art. Writing music and books is how my soul communicates. Music, dancing, books, paintings, sculptures, and great acting move me in ways I can't explain. Other things that rock my world: Spending time with family and friends, delicious meals, CHOCOLATE, red wine, meditation, travel, and healthy living. FIGURE OUT WHAT LIGHTS YOU UP & DO THOSE THINGS OFTEN!

My Greatest Gifts.

My kids, my boyfriend, embraces from those I love, the sound of the waves, the purr of my cats, my health, the health of those I love, enlightening conversations, inspiring music, the words, "I love you," a good laugh...  

These are not just things I enjoy about my life. These things ARE my life. These are some of my greatest gifts, and for that and so much more, I am profoundly grateful.

What NOT to do.

Don't let a moment slip by unnoticed. Don't pass up a chance to kiss your children. Don't miss an opportunity to express your love. Don't let a kind word be left upon your lips. 

Live your life like your life depends on it.

In honor of this precious life I've been given, I hereby promise the following: To practice being gracious and grateful; joyous and generous; playful and powerful; creative and kind.  

I will allow myself and others to make mistakes! I will take honoring and thanking and appreciating and loving to a whole new level.

That's what I realized today. What about you?

This is For the Children

Sometimes I spend hours arduously contemplating every word I put in a post. Other times, random unknowns like this guy (Jimmy Kimmel? What the hell kind of name is that?) make my job so freaking easy.

Click on this link for some great holiday laughs. 

http://youtu.be/q4a9CKgLprQ

Ketchup is a Vegetable and Other Lies Moms Tell Themselves by, Robin O'Bryant

I'm pleased to be able to plug a brilliant writer and a hilarious book. Robin O'Bryant is funny, talented, and supportive of other writers. I'm honored to call her a friend and excited to introduce you to her and her work.

Here she is (isn't she adorable?) and above is the cover of her book (isn't it cute?). The holidays are upon us, so why not treat yourself or someone you love with a copy? CLICK HERE TO ORDER. I promise, you won't be sorry.

BY THE WAY: Robin, being the generous soul that she is, has a signed copy of her book to give away to someone who tweets on Twitter about this post and/or shares this link on FB. Just make sure to leave a comment in the comment section letting her know you did this. Isn't that cool?

So, Robin, tell us about yourself, your book, finding your dream agent, and your path to publication. (And, two things for the record: 1) "Ketchup is a Vegetable" is NOT a lie, and, 2) I'm glad I'm not the only one stalking Jenny!)

Hah! Where to begin? I've been an avid reader and writer my entire life. As a child, it was common for me to have dark circles under my eyes from staying up into the wee hours to read. I've journaled since I could write a complete sentence and throughout my life have been repeatedly told, "You should write a book."

I wanted to, I really did. I wanted to be a writer but I had no idea what to write about. I was good at expressing myself in words but I wasn't creating new worlds or going all J.K. Rowling in my free time. Reading and writing were private passions until my third child was born. Three daughters in four years, it's all a blur. Do the math, people. That's a lot of crazy.

I was writing about my kids extensively, because that's what I do. I am compelled to write about my life. But because my husband and I lived hundreds of miles from our families, I was also sending out mass emails on a daily and weekly basis to update our families on our shenanigans. And I heard it again and again, “You should write a book.” (Please note: this doesn't always mean you should and I realized that this was my mom and she might be a little biased.) I thought I might have an audience when my family members started forwarding my emails to everyone in their contact lists and I began receiving feedback from people I didn't know. I started a blog and somehow convinced the editor of our local paper to let me write a weekly family humor column.

I realized I had plenty of material and a subject matter that I loved. I started writing furiously. I wrote while I fed my baby. I wrote while my two-year-old and four-year-old napped. I bugged the crap out of all my book whore friends-- because avid readers make great betas. I asked for feedback from anyone who was willing to give it. I joined my local Writer's Association and started going to group meetings to get feedback from people who weren't my mother.

I ordered books about writing query letters. I quietly stalked the Query Shark and any other resource I could find online and started writing drafts of my letter. I purchased 'The Writers Market' and started looking for agents who represented non-fiction humor and women's interest books. And I sent out my first few queries.

I queried widely and was rejected widely. Every time an agent was kind enough to tell me why they said no, I did what I could to change that part of my letter. I read as much as I could in my genre and poured over the acknowledgments to see if the author had thanked her agent and I made a magical discovery. My three favorite humorists all thanked their agent-- Jenny Bent. And when I say “favorite” writers, I mean like The-Beatles-Favorite. Like if I saw them in person, I would hyperventilate and pass out.

I began stalking Jenny. Not scary-stalking, let's all remember that I had three kids under four years old. I didn't have time to wipe after I peed, much less be threatening and what not. But I began reading interviews with Jenny online, learning what she was looking for and what she liked to read. I read her client's blogs and one of them even sent me a copy of her query letter.

By the time I wrote my query to Jenny, I felt like I knew her. The letter I wrote to her was more personal and more reflective of my writing style than any of the others. But still, before I pressed, 'Send,' I almost chickened out. Jenny Bent was totally out of my league. As other agents had pointed out my one little local newspaper column wasn't a big enough platform. This was my first book, and many authors never get their first book published.

Another agent had a requested a partial and a book proposal and I was waiting to hear back from her. My last thought before I sent the email was, “It's not going to hurt anything to send it. She'll probably never read it anyway.”

I received an email within the week from one of Jenny's readers saying Jenny wanted to read the full manuscript and I almost blacked out. I sent the manuscript and tried not to think about the fact that the agent who represented three of the funniest women on the planet had my manuscript and was actually reading it.

I received an email from Jenny's assistant only a couple of weeks later saying (this is burned into my brain forevermore) “Jenny is on a plane, doubled over in laughter reading your manuscript. She wants to offer you representation and would like to set up a time to talk to you.”

I screamed so loudly I woke up all three of my sleeping children. (Waking children during nap-time is a mortal sin and I've almost popped a cap in the UPS man for ringing my doorbell before. Even though he was bringing me magical under-eye makeup from Sephora.) I ran screaming through my yard to my neighbor's house and almost gave her heart attack.

This wasn't supposed to happen. Authors don't get signed from the slush pile. Not to high caliber agents. But I did. Jenny Bent is careful with her queries, people. She doesn't want to miss anything.

For the last two years, Jenny has been an amazing mentor and editor. Her first revisions, though VERY kind and 100% accurate, hurt. We cut over half of the material and did a major rewrite. But she saw my strengths and my potential. Her advice helped me find my voice. She encouraged me to focus on my strengths and to throw away what was subpar. She helped me shape my manuscript into a book that we both love.

My platform grew. I self-syndicated my column in three states and I found outlets online and in print for my writing. And while I've been “waiting for something to happen” I wrote another book. Getting published isn't a race and now that it's finally here, I'm glad I took my time. I can't imagine this book being "out there" before now and I'm thankful for every single round of revisions. (I'm also glad they are over.)

Read the best of Robin's Chicks, Robin's blog about about surviving motherhood with three daughters and a sense of humor. Learn helpful tips such as: how to breastfeed behind your back*, how to talk to your daughters about male genitalia, and how to write a pet obituary. Purchase "Ketchup is a Vegetable and Other Lies Moms Tell Themselves" on Amazon or download to your Kindle.

*Only applies to lactating women with a DD cup or larger.

Praise for, "Ketchup is a Vegetable and Other Lies Moms Tell Themselves" 

by, Robin O'Bryant

"The humor of Bombeck and warmth of a best girlfriend... one of the funniest things I've ever read." Celia Rivenbark, New York Times bestselling author of, You Don't Sweat Much for a Fat Girl

"Witty, insightful observations from my favorite mom on Twitter!" Stefanie Wilder-Taylor, bestselling author of, Sippy Cups Are Not for Chardonnay

"A book about motherhood that will make you nod with recognition, while simulaneously reminding you schedule a hysterectomy." Jenny Lawson, The Bloggess, author of, Let's Pretend This Never Happened

Summary
If you don’t have anything nice to say about motherhood, then… read this book. Robin O’Bryant offers a no holds barred look at the day to day life of being a mother to three, running a household and the everyday monotony of parenting.

It’s not always pretty but it’s real. Whether she's stuffing cabbage in her bra… dealing with defiant yet determined daughters… yelling at the F.B.I... or explaining the birds and the bees to her preschooler… you’re sure to find dozens of humorous and relatable situations.

From the creator of Robin's Chicks, one of the South’s most popular blogs on motherhood, misunderstandings and musings, comes a collection of essays that will not only make you laugh and cry, but realize that you’re not alone in your journey.

Sit back and relax, pour yourself some “mommy juice,” throw a fresh diaper on your baby and deadbolt the bedroom door to keep your kids out… because once you start reading you'll be too busy wiping away tears of laughter to wipe anybody's butt.

Robin O'Bryant is a self-syndicated humor columnist living in the Mississippi Delta with her husband and three daughters. Visit her at www.robinschicks.com to point and laugh.

This One Goes Out to the One I Love

EVERLASTING

As I stare across both time and space, to the deep end of your soul

My heart melts like a prayer embraced, my mind is swallowed whole

When did this dive of passion turn to star-filled endless nights?

When did your ageless mansion come to wrap around me tight?

I don’t know, I may never know, these questions linger still

All that matters now, my love, is with you I’m fulfilled

Whenever I’m with you, my love, my restless tides are thrashing

Time ticks on, side by side, endless oceans crashing

Wherever I’m with you, my love, my galaxies are smashing

Time stands still, hand in hand, dream-splashed everlasting.

For Bobby,11.29.11

Debra Lynn Lazar

Just a Few of the People I'm Thankful For...

Me and my son, Adam, Breckenridge, CO, 11.20.11

My sister, Michelle, and I, Cabo San Lucas, Oct.'10

My sister, Laurie, and her wonderful husband, Peter, Oct. '11

My boyfriend, Bobby, and our cat, Mia, August, '11.

My friends, John and Heather, Caribbean Cruise, Nov. '05.

Laura Weber Martin, Carolyn Ward Parsons, Cindy Wilson, and I. Nov '10

Me and my son, Ethan, May '10.

Me and Bobby, Sanibel Island, FL, Oct. '10.

My friend, Joanne, and I. Phoenixville, PA, Oct. '09.

Dad and Mom, Cape May, NJ, August '11.

Me and Ken Parsons, Summer '10.

Me and Bobby, St. Patrick's Day Parade, March '11.

Mom, Laurie, David (front), Dad, Me, Sharon, and Devyn. Cabo, Oct. '10.

My niece, Devyn, Oct. '11.

My nephew, Nash, Oct. 11.

My friend, Julie, and I at BEA in NYC. May '09.

Adam and I, Lone Tree, CO, Thanksgiving '10.

Me and Ethan, Rehoboth Beach, DE, August '10.

Sharon, Ethan, my cousin, Eric, and Adam, August '11.

Back Row: Adam, Sharon, Laurie, Peter, Debbie, Ethan, Bobby. Middle Row: David, Dad, Mom, Michelle, Devyn, Travis. Front Row: Arissa, Jalen, Josea. - Laurie and Peter's Wedding, 10.1.11, Centennial, CO.