Building a Family

Welcome to Our World!

Before we dive into all the cuddles, chaos, and adventures ahead, we thought it only fair to introduce ourselves properly.

This first blog is your backstage pass into the wonderfully quirky crew we call family — fur, shells, and all. Scroll on down to meet the colorful characters (both two- and four-legged) who fill our home with laughter, love, and just the right amount of mischief.

We’re so glad you’re here — now let’s get acquainted, shall we?

The Wives

Hi there! I’m Leslie — a petite, proud Latin American woman who just so happened to fall head over heels for the love of my life… at work, of all places! We’re both nurses, but let’s be honest — my wife Laura’s job sounds like it was plucked from an action movie. While I work as a psychiatric nurse practitioner, Laura is a real-life superhero: a transport nurse who flies (yes, flies) critically ill kiddos by helicopter, plane, or ambulance to get them the care they need. I know, right? Coolest job ever.

But Laura isn’t just the one with the wings — she’s also the heart, brain, and muscle of this whole operation. I always say I’m the Robin to her Batman. I toss out the ideas, and she’s the one who brings them to life with creativity, brilliance, and a sprinkle of chaos. Most of what you’ll see on this blog comes from her incredible energy and imagination.

And of course, no superhero team is complete without a few adorable sidekicks. Ours? Four floppy-eared, tail-wagging pups and one wise tortoise. They may not contribute much to the creative process, but their talent for snuggles, silly antics, and unconditional love makes them absolute stars in our world.

Teddy

Hi, I’m Teddy

(But you can call me Tedwardo or Theodore Bundy if you're feeling formal.)

I’m a mischievous miniature schnauzer, the proud eldest of five four-legged siblings — though, between you and me, I never asked for siblings. If it were up to me, I’d be an only child, soaking up all the attention, treats, and belly rubs. Alas, here we are.

I’m a dog of many layers. On the outside, I’m brave, bold, a bit loud (okay, a lot loud), and a fierce protector of my kingdom — also known as the living room. I’ve been called rebellious, but I prefer the term independent thinker.

But peel back the tough guy exterior, and you’ll find my softer side: a world-class cuddler with a weakness for warm laps and cozy blankets. My moms are my favorite humans in the world — especially Mom Laura. Funny story: I bit her three times when we first met (ankle biting is kind of my thing — approach at your own risk 👀), but somehow, she still fell in love with me. Now? We’re inseparable. She gets me.

Oh, and just so we’re clear: I am the handsomest boy in this house. Possibly the world. Definitely the neighborhood.

Stay tuned — I’ve got stories to tell and ankles to chase.

Bear

Hey there, I’m Bear

(Not actually a bear, but I’ve been told I give off major teddy bear energy.)

No one really knows exactly what I am — breed-wise, that is. My moms think I might be part spaniel (thanks to my wispy ears and tail that floof like nobody's business), but honestly, I’m not too concerned. Whatever I am, I’m the good-est boy — and really, isn’t that what matters most?

Now, I’ll admit… I’m a bit on the anxious side. Okay, a lot on the anxious side. Loud noises, sudden movements, and especially boxes (yes, those scary square monsters!) tend to send me into full jump-scare mode. But even with my nerves, I take my job as big brother very seriously. I’m fiercely protective of my little sisters — someone’s gotta keep the chaos in check, right?

When I’m not keeping watch or on box-alert duty, you can usually find me stationed in my favorite place: the kitchen. Because where there’s cooking, there are crumbs. And where there are crumbs, there’s Bear. I consider it my noble calling to patrol the floor for any fallen snacks. A good treat can turn any day around — wouldn’t you agree?

So that’s me: soft, sensitive, snack-loving, and just doing my best to be the best bear I can be.

Carmella

Hi. I’m Carmella

The spiciest, tiniest little wiener you ever did lay eyes on.

I may be small — teacup-sized, thank you very much — but don’t let that fool you. What I lack in inches, I make up for in attitude. Other dachshunds? Giants, every one of them. Even the "miniature" ones tower over me like they're auditioning for the doggy NBA. And my moms? They have the audacity to call me a "chiweenie" — that’s a chihuahua-dachshund mix, apparently. Rude. But whatever. I let it slide. Most days.

Now, I’ll be real with you: I have a short fuse. It doesn't take much — an ill-timed belly rub, an unsolicited kiss, a loud noise, or frankly just existing too close to me when I haven’t invited you. I like affection on my terms, okay? Respect the boundaries of the queen.

That said... when my moms come home? Oh, I lose all dignity. Tail wagging, tiny hops, full-body wiggles — it’s embarrassing how excited I get. But I love them. Especially my mom Leslie — she's my designated cuddle partner and expert blanket sharer. There’s nothing better than burrowing under the covers beside her, wrapped up in warmth and love. If I’m not there, you’ll find me sunbathing like the royalty I am, or doing a full tactical takedown of my kibble. Those little pieces don’t stand a chance — I was born to hunt.

Oh, and one last thing… my nemesis. Her name is Harlow. She breathes. It bothers me. The end.

Harlow

Hi hi hi!!! I’m Harlow!

The baby of the bunch, the goofball of the family, and the proud CEO of Wiggles & Kissies, Inc.

My moms say I have “two neurons dancing on opposite sides of my brain,” but what they don’t know is that those neurons? Oh, they tango. They throw full-blown fiestas up there.

Like my brain cells, I LOVE to dance. My signature move? The belly dance — very Shakira, minus the coordination. When I get excited (which is... always), my whole body wobbles like Jell-O. My booty/nub combo has no chill. It just does its own thing. Total chaos. Total joy.

Now, let’s talk stats: I’m the youngest fur-child in the house, but I’m also the biggest. I’m a well-fed, fluffy, auburn Australian Shepherd with a heart as oversized as my enthusiasm. My attention span? Um... what were we talking about again?

Oh right — LOVE. I. Love. Love. Aggressively. I’m what my moms call an “intense cuddler.” Sure, I’ve been known to hold them down and force kissies upon them, but sometimes that’s just necessary, you know? Gotta make sure they know how obsessed I am. Sorry not sorry.

Mom says I can be “a little much” sometimes. But in my defense, love is a lot, and I’m just trying to give all of it, all the time, with my whole entire floofy being.

So if you see a blur of red fur, booty shimmies, and chaotic smooches coming your way — it’s probably me.

Tortellini

Salutations. I am Tortellini.

A sulcata tortoise. One year old. A living fossil. A quiet observer of the chaos around me... and the most misunderstood member of this household.

I may be small now, but mark my words — I am growing stronger by the day. My ancestors were literally dinosaurs, so... tread carefully.

As the newest addition to the family, I came in peace. I rise early (unlike my moms, who I suspect may be nocturnal sloths), and expect to be fed promptly. When I’m not? Chaos. Mild stomping. Strategic sulking. The occasional dramatic head-bob. I make my displeasure known.

My indoor enclosure? It’s decent. Moms worked hard on it — I’ll give them that. But let’s just say... their feng shui is not my feng shui. I’ve taken it upon myself to redecorate daily. They say I ruin the layout. I say I’m expressing my inner landscape architect. They also removed my ramp. Which was rude. Ever since then, I’ve been restless — a tortoise with no hill to climb is just a flat mood.

Now, let’s address the elephant in the room — or rather, the dogs. The big red one (Harlow) and the gray one (Teddy)... they bully me. They bark. They stare. They press their snouts against my glass like I’m a snack. A snack! I am NOT a snack. I am their brother. And siblings do not eat each other. At least, that’s the code I live by.

To make matters worse, my moms hung family photos in my enclosure — and who do I have to look at every day? Harlow and Teddy. Staring down at me like they own the place. It’s psychological warfare.

But just wait. One day I’ll be 100+ pounds of unbothered tortoise glory. The tables will turn. Who’ll be barking then?

Until then, I sunbathe. I dream. I wait.

Vengeance is patient. And so am I.