Tag Archives: love

Happy First Birthday, Everly & Chloe. (Warning: This will be sappy.)


One year ago today I welcomed you into the world.
Both of you.
My “two little rosebuds”.

You were tiny and pink and oh-so-fragile.
I was afraid to hold you.
I didn’t know a damn thing about motherhood. Or babies. Or twins.
It was all so foreign to me. So new. So… terrifying. Continue reading

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One year later…

Well, that was fast.

Tuesday marked my big one-year blog anniversary. Needless to say, I had quite the party. What? You weren’t invited? Man, you totally missed out then. Martha Stewart went all out on my rosebud-themed decorations & fancypants 5-course vegan dinner. Oh, and my dear friend Oprah surprised all of my guests with pink-hued cars of their choice. Good times.

So yeah, as you can imagine, a lot has changed since my very first blog post.

Remember this? (Mike edited it a bit since the last posting):

Clearly, I’ve had my little rosebuds. That whole “getting them out of me” thing was no fun. Nor was the pain/constipation that followed. Not being able to poop is no joke.

Speaking of poop, double the babies means double the crap. Literally. I’ve changed more poopy diapers than I could have ever imagined… and it’s far from over. Wanna know exactly how many diapers I’ve changed? (Of course you do!) Welp, you’re in luck, cos there’s an app for that!

According to “Baby Connect”, I’ve changed a total of 1281 diapers since August. — But wait! There’s more! That’s only for Chloe. Little Everly produced 1289 bundles of goodness. So, in the last 7 months, Mike and I have changed at least 2570 dirty diapers. Holy. Crapola.

I never thought I’d get used to something as unpleasant as changing a diaper, but I have.

I also never thought I’d be able to suction boogers out of a baby’s nose without gagging.
Or get peed on and not freak out.
Or laugh while someone’s pooping on me.
Or love someone SO DANG MUCH.

I’m a totally different person than who I was a year ago. Sometimes it doesn’t feel like it, and I have to remind myself that “I have babies!!”. But yup, I’m a freakin’ MOM now. I created LIFE. No, I created TWO LIVES. At once! How awesome is that? (Pretty daaamn awesome.)

As someone who’s never been the “mothering” type, who’s never been comfortable around babies, it’s hard to believe how much I’m digging this new role. I love being a mom. It’s truly the best thing I’ve ever done. And as trying as the days may be, with teething/feeding troubles/middle-of-the-night freakouts… It’s all so, so worth it.

Their existence, just the fact that they’re here, brings more joy than I ever could have dreamed.

These guys could poop on me all day & I'd still the heck out of 'em. (Ok, maybe not ALL day.)

These guys could poop on me all day & I’d still love the heck out of ’em. (Ok, maybe not ALL day.)

Don't poke the poor turtle's eye out, Ev.

Don’t poke the poor turtle’s eye out, Ev.

Okay, the turtle's safe now. Good.

Okay, the turtle’s safe now. Good.

Aw, crap... Now she's gonna attack her sister. Watch out, Chloe!!

Aw, crap… Now she’s gonna attack her sister. Watch out, Chloe!!

Time to put the camera down...

Someone’s been watching too much “Walking Dead”…
That’s a kid’s show, right?

Almost forgot — Here’s the third installment of “2 weeks in 2 minutes”. Enjoy!

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Love is (not) in the air…

So, it’s Valentine’s Day.

Let’s pretend that I got all dressed up and went out for a fancypants dinner with my husband.
Let’s pretend he brought me a dozen roses and a box of expensive vegan chocolates.
(They were oh-so-yummy.)

And since we’re all about bullshitting pretending, let’s pretend these are NOT Christmas dresses and that they wore them for more than 10 minutes.

Nope, not their Christmas dresses.

Nope, not their Christmas dresses.

"Um, mom... Christmas is over." Shhh!

“Um, mom… Christmas is over.” Shhh!

"Ev is so uptight..."

“Ev is so uptight…”

"Look Ev! It's my butt!"

“Look Ev! It’s my butt!”

"Why can't I be an only child?"

“Why can’t I be an only child?”


“Move overrrrr!!!”



"Can I just sit over here and play with my feet in peace?"

“Ev tried to eat my arm. I’m safer here on the floor, playing with my toes.”

"Woo! The chair's all MINE now!"

“Woo! The chair’s all MINE!”

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Five Months, Frilly Frocks.

Ahhhh! They're real, actual people!

5 months!!

They’re starting to look like real people now! Not that they weren’t before, but you know — they look less infant-y.

It’s getting easier for relatives (and us!) to tell them apart now.

They can squeal. And babble. And giggle.

Sometimes they even screech like two angry cats. (Not a fan.)

Oh, and they roll… sorta. Rolling to their tummy? Easy. Rolling from their tummy back to their, uh, back? Ain’t happenin’. And they are NOT pleased when they’re stuck on their bellies. So they let us know… by screeching. LOUDLY.

But I’m not complaining… Despite their noisier presence as of late, they’re still the best (only) darn kiddos I’ve ever had. ;)

Serious little people.

Serious little people.

Woo! Belly button! Wooooo!

Woo! Belly button! Wooooo!

Lounging Ev. / Chunk of C's ear.

Lounging Ev. / Chunk of C’s ear.

"Please disregard my boogers."

“Please disregard my boogers.”

The Drool Sisters.

The Drool Sisters.



These socks have a 5-minute "foot life".

These socks have a 5-minute “foot life”.

End of the year review post coming soon. I’ve been busy lazy. :)

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Happy birthday, jerk.


This photo is a little old. But so is Mike.

My dear husband is 33 today. (He finally caught up with me!)

When we met face to face for the first time on a super awkward coffee date at Barnes N’ Noble, I would never have guessed that we’d be married — & expecting twins— a mere 4 years later.

2008, when we started dating. We look so young!

It’s been a bumpy road at times, and we’ve certainly mastered the art of “bickering like an old married couple”, but I can’t imagine being with anyone else. Sorry Michael, but unless you have other plans, I’m afraid we have many, many more years of driving each other crazy ahead of us. Till death do us part, right? Mwahahahaha

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An eggs-tra special, super sappy, vegan-friendly Easter love story


Mike & I – Taken the day before Easter, 2010.

I’ve never been a follower of any particular religion. I was baptized as a baby, but that’s as far as I got. With that said, Easter has never been much of a big deal for me.

Sure, when I was a wee lil’ whippersnapper, I took much delight in hunting for my basket full of pastel-wrapped goodies & rainbow-colored jelly beans… What kid didn’t? But once I learned that the whole “Easter bunny” thing was a big sham, the holiday just kind of lost its appeal. It went downhill even more once I hit my teenage years & went vegetarian. Easter ham? No thanks!

It wasn’t until two years ago, in 2010, that Easter once again meant something to me. But it had nothing to do with God, or the Easter bunny… or ham.

Mike & I go to his mother’s house every Easter to enjoy a late-morning homemade breakfast. That Easter morning started off as per usual: Mike was up & showered by 9; I was still in bed, catching as many z’s as he’d allow.

The night before, Mike had mentioned something along the lines of “Maybe if you’re lucky, the Easter bunny will leave you some treats in the morning”. I didn’t think anything of it until he came to wake me up the next day, telling me I had some egg hunting to do. Huh?

So I decided to play along and went downstairs to begin the hunt. He handed me a plastic egg that housed a little slip of paper with a clue on it. (I honestly don’t remember what it said – I have all of the clues saved, but no idea what order they were in. Sorry, Mike.) Each clue led me to a specific object or location in the house, where another plastic egg was hidden. I found eggs in sugar jars… on dusty treadmills… in my old Nintendo system… until finally I reached the last clue & found a basket hanging from the showerhead.

I brought the basket into the kitchen to check out what the “Easter bunny” left me. It was full of vegan chocolate bars & a tin of custom-blended Adagio tea. Mike told me to open the tea & give it a sniff. I immediately spotted the tiny slip of paper inside before I even got the clear lid off. My heart kind of skipped a beat when I thought of what might be on that paper… So I opened the lid, pulled out the “last clue” & read it: “Better turn around now. Michael has something very important he wants to ask you…

easter love


I turned around and Mike was on his knee, holding a diamond ring. I was speechless. He is (well, was) the most unromantic person I have ever known, so I couldn’t believe what was happening… He asked me to marry him, and being my classy self, I blurted out “Are you fucking serious?!”. Yeah, I’m not proud of that part. Haha. I was laughing/shaking and finally managed to say “Yes“.

We were married on October 2nd of that same year, in a small family reception at the Roycroft Inn in East Aurora, New York.

Now here we are, two Easters later, patiently awaiting the arrival of our 2 little rosebuds. :)

(Oh, Mike recently wrote his own version of this on his blog too!)

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