Nine years ago there was a massive rainstorm, a flooded apartment, a frenzied move, and an impromptu wedding in Pastor Schenkel’s office on Long Island. Stevie wore shorts and his blue flame Converse. I wore jeans and my flowered Doc Martens. We celebrated at the Candlelight Inn with hot wings and beer.

After nine years of friendship, almost dating, actually dating, and engagement, it was just us, and it was perfect.






Three months later, we recited our vows in front of 250 of our closest friends and family in the Venetian Chapel in Las Vegas.

It was all of us (almost all of us), and it was perfect.

And here we are nine years, three houses, two kids, and one hungry hound dog later. And I’m starting to forget what my life was like without Stevie in it. He’s my partner in crime, my hero, my best friend. He’s the one guy I know I can always count on when life gets hard and shit gets real. And I’m pretty sure he’s the only person in the world who really gets all of my jokes (and who could put up with me for this long).

I’ve already married him twice, and I’d do it again tomorrow if he asked me.

Happy 9th Real/Fake Anniversary, Stevie!







And Happy 9 Months to Henry! Can’t even believe this little man is closing in on a year already! He’s strong, stubborn, rowdy, opinionated, and ready to take on the world (if he can just figure out this whole walking thing).




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