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Five years ago, on August 4th, 2007, Mike and I got married. Aren’t we so cute and naive in the picture above?

Those two people had never once stepped foot in the playground located a block away from their apartment. They had never gone out to dinner earlier than 8pm. They stayed out late on the weekends because they could sleep in until noon. They lingered over brunch with nowhere else to be. There wasn’t one big movie they didn’t make sure to see in the theater. They planned their next vacation on the plane home from their vacation. They skipped breakfast. They watched the morning news. They went to the gym before work.

Those two people had no idea Calliou or Wonder Pets or The Fresh Beat Band even existed.


Before Mike and I were married, we didn’t know the words to ‘Goodnight Moon’ by heart. We listened to adult music in the car. We slept on the plane. We each had one carry-on we kept in the overhead.

Before Mike and I were married, we had a meticulously kept apartment. Our carpet wasn’t cluttered with blocks and crayons and fake kitchen utensils. We had never pretended to eat a wooden cheese sandwich or put a diaper on a teddy bear or drawn a horrible rendering of Big Bird on demand.

Before Mike and I were married, we used an alarm clock to wake us up in the morning. We picked restaurants based on food and atmosphere and didn’t consider whether you could fit a stroller through the front door. We sung ‘Happy Birthday’ only when it was actually somebody’s birthday. We had never left the house with Dora the Explorer stickers unknowingly stuck to our backs or had to explain to a screaming child that it was just not possible to microwave milk in a car.


Before Mike and I were married, we never knew that happiness would one day hinge on the existence of a tattered purple rag. That making sure that rag was clean and accounted for before our daughter’s bedtime would take precedence over everything. That almost losing that purple rag would be the closest we would ever come to splitting up.

Before Mike and I were married, we would never have purchased a $10 Elmo balloon at a performance of Sesame Street Live. In fact, we would never have been at Sesame Street Live to begin with. We also had no way of knowing that mylar balloons have the life expectancy of a tree. And that one night, we would find ourselves waiting until our daughter had gone to bed before “accidentally” stabbing Elmo’s smiling face with a scissor.


Before Mike and I were married, we had never sung a lullaby together. Or built pillow tents in our bed. Or witnessed a two-year-old’s excitement when presented with ice cream. We had never changed a diaper in tandem or thrown a bubble bath tea party or walked down the street swinging our daughter between us on every tenth step.

Before Mike and I were married, we had tons of fun.

But we didn’t have Mazzy.

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There is not one day that passes that I don’t thank my husband for the existence of our daughter. At least in my head.

Thank you, Mike. For creating a family with me. Even if it means we never get to sleep in.


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If you’d like to see more pictures of my wedding (plus the story of my mother almost slicing my labia with a scissor) click here.


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