~:P E T T I N G • Z O O:~






















Olaf doesn't get as much press as Bjorn, but I think these photos make up for it. Anton sat in the grass for the first time today. He's learning how to sit up. You can see him beginning to tip near the end. Poor guy. He had a nice long nap after these were taken.

Nanny bought him the hat. Nancy Lauber knit him the sweater. And I think the lillies you see behind me are from Aunt Jacki years ago. David Arnold suggested we encourage Anton to pitch with his left hand.

I think this is a good start.

Minus is back! yay!

~:E N D • O F • D A Y S:~

Yesterday I was summoned by Bjorn downstairs who was madly barking at voices coming from the font yard. I opened the front door and heard my neighbor Pat saying, "No, Thank you." Then I see two women pull up my driveway in a white Cadillac. They approach me with Bibles in hand and I immediately get nauseous.

One of them shakes my hand and says that she's here to get my "opinion" about the word of God.

"I'm an Episcopalian, so you don't need to evangelize to me."

"Yes, but do you believe we are indeed in the End Of Days?"

"Really, thank you but I don't need to discuss this with you."

So they left in pursuit of their next victims , thank GAWD.

I find myself so ashamed of my religion when I come across people like these. I realize I should be more tolerant, but it's THEIR intolerance that triggers mine. Fear-based fundamentalism makes me sick to my stomach. A couple of years ago I had an argument with a Christian who believed that homosexuality was a symptom of sexual abuse and that this was FACT and she had proof because ALL of her "recovering" homosexual clients (she's a Christian therapist) struggled with the same issues.

Last night I watched a fabulous documentary of Rome produced by The Learning Channel, back when TLC used to really be the "learning" channel. One of the strengths of Rome was that they assimilated their conquered cultures and were quite tolerant of other religions. They didn't have the racial tensions that we have in America today. The Romans simply adopted the best of all cultures to make themselves even stronger. No God, technique or style was too good for them.

Then the strange cult of Christianity appeared. This was one religion that refused to be assimilated. You were either a Roman OR a Christian. This all came to pass as Roman emperors became more and more ridiculous, Rome was too large to expand any longer, inflation disrupted the economy.... The Fall of Rome was here. Christianity offered unhappy Romans a way to escape what was wrong with their civilization. It contradicted everything Rome stood for. It gave them a solid moral ground upon which to stand. It offered a black and white world with no room for interpretation, no reason to stray into the abyss of self discovery, the despair of choice.

It's so odd for me to think of Christians meeting in underground catacombs for years and then suffering for their beliefs. What made them so different and eventually SO successful was their intolerance of other religions. And this is true to this day. It's what makes many Christians nauseatingly unbearable to me.

What keeps my heart tied to the idea of Christianity is Christ's message of love, grace, tolerance, generosity and forgiveness. There are a few other Christians out there like me, I know. But we're not very popular. Not as popular as the Bible Thumpers.

It's kind of a lonely place to be.

There must be comfort in thinking you're right all the time. Comfort in not having to think for yourself. Comfort in using the Bible as a magic 8 ball, instead of a beautiful set of stories meant to inspire kindness and truthfulness in all who read it.

I think all religions are valid. I don't think I have the right to dictate to anyone how they should worship if they chose to do so. My god is real. But he may not be yours, which is fine. Doesn't have to be yours, which is more than fine.

I believe the wonder of God comes in many forms, many faces - in people, rituals, places, nature... god is a single being, god is a culture, a group, a prayer. God is not a "code of conduct" or set of rules meant to make decision making easier.

I know that's vague. Infuriatingly so for many people. But I've been doing a lot of thinking lately.

If you have any thoughts or beliefs you'd like to share, I'm open to listening. And if not, that's OK, too. Just know that you're probably going to hell.

Kidding! I don't actually believe in hell - I think THIS is hell and when we all die, somehow, SOMEHOW everything we struggled for in this life is rewarded by peace.

I just believe it all works out.

No matter how awful things are, we are, they are - things just work out.

~:B A P T I S M:~

Anton was baptized this Easter Sunday, and although the weather was chillier than I wanted, the day was quite perfect. We had everyone we loved with us to celebrate the event. Anton was a dream - sweet and flirty and patient. He fussed a little at the water and tried to eat the prayer book we were reading from - but he was still cute.

I had an epiphanous moment at the alter, the intersection of space and time. As I ate the communion bread, I had the most wonderful vision of Tommy making bread with Christ, for me to eat. It was marvelous. I can't describe how wonderful it felt to sit in church with my baby in my lap. I felt very blessed.

All the Temples came to join us - and I think Charles, Brent and Peter should start their own "daddy day care" center here in Atlanta. They have the magic touch. We all wore white - it was such a wonderful day. A real celebration.

Want to see pictures? There are lots to see here:

Anton's Easter Baptism

Happy Easter everyone,

~Anne

~:C R E A T I V E • S T R O K I N G • W I T H • E M O T I V E • T Y P E:~







These are the talented designers and some of their work in this quarter's Creative Strokes class at PC. We're having a blast with interpreting the Seven Deadly Sins with inky passion. Take a look at some of their work! Hooray for Jessica, John, Keith, Yuri, Witt, Brent, Jared and Van.

~:B A B Y • S P A C E • F O O D:~

Anton is learning how to eat solids from a spoon. I never thought I'd be one of those earthy mothers who makes her own baby food, but once I tried it, I couldn't stop. His pediatrician said it was more "time consuming" than buying preparing baby food jars, but really - it couldn't be easier. I surprised myself at how easy it was.

If you have a pot of water and a hand mixer, that's all you need. For instance, to prepare carrots, simply boil them in water until they're soft and then purée them in a hand mixer or blender. Then pour the mix into an ice cube tray and freeze for later. When he's ready for lunch, pop a cube in the microwave for a few seconds, stir and eat, eat, eat! It's fun!

So far, we're up to yellow fruits and veggies. After 7 months, we'll be adding green to his menu. Here on Anton's plate are: Carrot, squash, banana, apple and pear.

Any questions?

~:B J O R G E:~

I am very, VERY happy today with some terrific news to share with you. ALL of the pets in the Elser household have finally made it on I Heart Casper Dot Com. This site belongs to Casper - Larry Luk's cute little fluffy white dog. I feel as if our pets have finally gotten the credit and exposure they deserve. Life could not be better.

I also learned something about Bjorn, who I THOUGHT was a virgin. Apparently, he and another PC student named George had a fling thing and produced the love child you see here, Bjorge.

Hmmmmmm.

~:J O H N • G I V E N S:~

Way back in 1996, I graduated from PC with a good friend named John Givens. Now a designer in San Francisco, John's coming back to PC to give one of those seminar thingies on April 19th.

John's just completed a documentary called Working Title: a 60 minute film that "explores what it means to be an artist in a society that defines you by what you do for a living."

I'm excited because it's been soooo long since I've seen him. John has a great sense of humor - could make me laugh easily and was kind of a brother to me in grad school. He was honest and entertaining. His work had a heavy authenticity to it that made you think and care. He had a thing for texture, a love for the deeper story, an understanding of abstraction. John's a good man.

When we both graduated, John immediately went to San Fran. I interviewed out there and stayed with him and his girlfriend. They were both very generous. John made me the clock you see here. It's a portrait of me, back in the days I used to smoke - during my 8th quarter I got up to 2 packs a day. No shit. So I've got the smoker's mouth, BUT two lovely tulip petals for eyes.

I had just come back from interviewing with Ann Field in LA. She knew pink tulips were my favorite flower and greeted me with a bouquet of them. I nearly cried. I carried them with me on the plane to San Fran and put them in a vase at John's apartment. John saved two of the tulip petals for my clock and on the back wrote, "To Annie: Always Sweet, Occasionally Innocent."

~:S P R I N G • H A S • S P R U N G:~

This post might explain my brief absence from the blogosphere. Next week I begin teaching again at PC. Behold the 5 new syllabi I've carefully crafted for the Spring quarter. The newest addition is a logos class, about which I'm real excited. I'm reintroducing and oldie, but goodie: The Holy Hand. Type is Mass has returned as well. I've been rubbing my palms together all weekend to prepare.

I learned how to make these little books from Michael Goodman's Bookingmaking class. I'll be taking it again this quarter, too. They're printed on French butcher paper. Lovely colors and a fun, shiny and modeled texture.

In other news, Anton is now 6 months old. This Easter Sunday, he'll be baptized. Very exciting! I am madly trying to finish a knitted cap for him to wear. He is a dream.

ALSO, I've started gardening again. Since we had such a warm gust of Spring weather lately, I've braved the weeds and pollen to plant new annuals and make room for the emerging perennials. This is a good sign, folks. I've just about reclaimed all the energy I used to have and my headaches continue to fade. I just don't think that much about my headaches any more. They are going away.

So our yard looks like it is once again loved. New plants at the mailbox, the windowboxes are full yet again. Things are in bloom. And I am STILL not in the hospital anymore.

Love to everyone,

~Anne

~:W A I T I N G • T O O • L O N G:~

Look what MilkFace did to me before giving him a bath? Funny thing is that the thought of being peed on makes me ill, but when it's your own baby, it just makes me laugh.

Recent Facts:

Anton has TWO teeth.

He's officially 6 months old now.

He can hold a bottle.

He found his toes today.

He reaches for toys now, reaches to touch my face.

My thighs are peppered with bruises from him jumping in my lap.

He wraps his arms around my neck.

I am having the time of my life.

~:W A L L P A P E R • S C H M A L L P A P E R:~

I love color. Besides coffee, it's what I get up for every morning. (Sorry Dougie Fresh.) Colors do wonderful things next to each other. They talk to each other. They say a lot. They DO a lot.

I've been painting walls since I was in college. Though I've got a "thing" for paper (passion) I hate the thought of wallpapering a room. I grew up watching my Mom do that in the house, only to watch her manage the chore of ripping/peeling/melting it down a few years later. It was quite a mess.

When we moved into this house, I painted right over the wallpaper. I'm a fan of pattern and I love the texture of slippery house paint. I've got gallons of it in just about every closet here. My whole house is in a constant stage of being repainted. I just can't get enough of it.

When guests come over and ask where I got my wallpaper, I smile and tell them I hand painted it. Then I pick their jaws up off the floor and hand them back to them. I live for this moment.

My house is one color palette trip after another. Colorful, lush, warm and welcoming. Yes, it's unfinished. Yes, it's not always clean. But it's colorful and cozy and welcomes the guest: "Come, sit with me and tell me who you are."

~:S T A T I O N S • O F • T H E • C R O S S :~
During Lent every year, we Catholic Lights prepare for Easter by picking a Station Of The Cross to paint/sculpt/Design, etc. This year I chose Station 4: Jesus Meets his Afflicted Mother. I chose this one for obvious reasons - the loss of my first pregnancy vs. the fear of losing Anton. I've got a better understanding now of this kind of loss and I think it's interesting that we gather each year to remember how much the stations hurt.

I've decided to post other stations I've done in the past in the order I've done them. The first was done in 1997, shortly after Tommy died: Station 9: Jesus Falls For The Third Time. I was in despair. Grieving and letting it hurt. Nothing could touch my anger. A black cloud of grief followed me wherever I went. I cried in my car every day. I was that glass, full only a third, running on empty.

Then I chose Station 2: Jesus take Up The Cross. He's on his way to Golgotha, the site of the execution - walking outside the gates of Jerusalem on a well-traveled path. A path whose end is highly visible and makes a great advertisement for the power of the law. This exit has no return access.

A year later I tackled Station 14: Thomas Touches Christ's Wounds. He's got to because he doesn't believe his eyes. Christ has resurrected. Thomas has failed the test of faith, lacking the vision to trust that things work out.

Lastly I returned to Station 9: Jesus Falls For The Third Time. A typographic treatment this time. We all know how relentless life's lessons and pitfalls can be. We keep falling and falling and falling and picking ourselves up again. It's life's job to keep challenging us. It's OK to fall.

Many years ago, I asked god while sitting in traffic, "Who are you?" His answer back to me was, "I'm just like YOU." This makes so much sense to me. We can't identify with anything until we compare it to ourselves. We want everything to be a mirror - and in many ways, things really are. The stations retell a story that brings us closer to god. Christ's presence does that very thing - makes god real to us. Makes god one of us.

Wonderful SNL short. Er um, should I say long?

Time to brag a little more. In January, I was invited to participate in the Weddings With Style event created by Paper Dolls Design at King Plow. I had a table up front with paints, ink, envelopes and name tags to be customized for each bride attending. Lots of fun to work in front of an audience - and for such cheery and excited brides-to-be.

Wogah was kind enough to send me a copy of the article about the show. Thank you! I've updated my Calligraphy page with photos of the event. Spread the word, folks. I'm hungry for more calligraphy work!

~Anne

This post goes out to my sweet Dougie Fresh, who has become physically healthy for the first time in his life. (I hope to follow is lead soon). Just over 2 years ago, he lost over 80 pounds and began running regularly. This new lifestyle really has changed our lives together. He's running in races and now is training for his first marathon. On top of that, he's using the event to raise money for fighting cancer. Below is an e-mail from him with details and a link to the donation site.

Cancer has touched so many of us personally and through the people we know and love. My father is currently battling 2 forms of cancer. He's doing well so far, but it's far from easy and has been a lonnnng, long journey. There's cancer on both sides of my family, so this is something I need to watch out for, too. There have been many victories, though - so there's hope.

~Anne


Doug Elser, running a Marathon?? Has the world gone mad?


Those who know me best know that I am given to shameless self-promotion. And that's true. On March 25th, I'll take on the ING Georgia Marathon as I run down the streets of Atlanta with nothing chasing me. But I will have the fight against cancer driving me. And although I didn't have to beat cancer to get to the point where I could run 26.2 miles, I did turn my life around health-wise by losing 80 pounds. What that has given me is a newfound perspective on how delicate our health is. I am so blessed to have the health that I now have.

Others don't have that. We all have stories about those we know that have cancer and have either beaten it or died from it. Brent Lunsford, a good friend from high school, was killed by it before he was much north of 25 years. Janet Elser, my father's sister, couldn't beat it and died in her early 50's.

Others I know have been more fortunate. My father-in-law, Tom Dusenberry, has battled two different cancers in the past year. My best friend, Kari Siegel, beat cancer a couple of years ago. And although it makes me smile to know that they will be around for many more years, it's pretty scary to think about what they have gone through.

The strides in cancer treatment over the past many years have made their successes possible. And money makes that happen. Many of you have expressed to me how impressed you are by the accomplishment I'm about to achieve...so show me the money!

To help me reach my fund-raising goal of $5,000 for the American Cancer Society, please visit my personal page by clicking on the link below...

Help me fight cancer.

Thank you all in advance!

-Doug

~:S A I N T • L O U I S:~

Good day friends and family. We all took a lovely trip to Chicago to visit Cousin Mia, Tio Peter and Tia Gloria. On the way, we spent the night with our Garlock cousins in Saint Louis and took these fun photos of our visit. Anton saw his first snow, we read a beautiful poem written by Robert and was entertained by Michael's magical baby entertaining skills. Dagny was there, too and is so grown up and beautiful. We hope to return soon for a longer visit.

Thank you Saint Louis!

~Doug, Anne and Anton

~:M I T T E N S • F O R • M I A:~
I know this isn't the seatbelt bag, but I'll still boast. Finished a new pair of mittens for my niece Mia who lives in Chicago. We'll go visit them this weekend and I hope to see her sporting them. You like?

Remember my post about seat belt bag envy? Harvey's makes them and I'm a devoted fan. But these bags are expensive. Sooooo... just tonight I came across these instructions on how to make your own bag complete with a couple of links to show you where to purchase your own belts. Would this not be COOL!? Of course I could make my own bag. Of COURSE I could! Weeeeeeeeee!

~:L A T E • T W I C E:~

What happens to naughty boys who are late for Anne's class? They get to wear the funny horn hat while presenting their work to the class. Find out what you get to wear when you're late a second time. :)

I will say, though, that Jimmy is an excellent Portfolio Center student and a very good sport. I got a big kick out of watching him present a book on "rage" while covered in pretty pink flowers. Thanks to Ben and Korelia for the photo and videa.

Mom had an opening Friday night - her first in a long while since I got sick and Dad's battle with cancer. Dad pushed her to do it - to do something for herself. She sent this fab photo of herself (she's in the middle) and her work. I'm posting it to brag and
to encourage her to get back on the painting wagon. She's an amazing person with incredible grace and energy and, in my opinion, the best mother on the planet. Love you mom!

More of her work can be found here.

I am obsessed with this enchanting new Paint By Number Seatbelt bag. I've had this bag in solid hummer green for a few years and it's been a great performer. I feel after working so hard to deliver Anton safely into this world, I deserve this one nice thing.

Don't you?


E-mail my local husband to add your support to this worthy cause.

Oh the agony of eating at Garrison's. What was supposed to be our first relaxing and romantic evening alone as parents turned out to be a laughable nightmare. I warn you now: Never EVER eat at Garrison's Perimeter Mall location. Big mistake. Why, you ask?

First off, our choice in the restaurant was kind of out of our hands. Doug got 2 gift certificates there from a friend at work and since we're really pinching our pennies, we have not been to a nice restaurant in a lonnnng while. So we decided to take this chance on a new place since it was such a great deal.

To begin, my husband was so starving and excited about eating out at a nice place, he reverted to his bachelor days of holding his fork like a shovel. "Can I eat the rest of your salad?" This is one of my biggest pet peeves. "NO, you MAY NOT." Grrrr. Then he knocked over his drink. Our kind waiter replied by offering to sell him another one, which happened to be a flat Newcastle Ale. Cheap, cheap, cheap.

Our appetizer, the "empanadas", tasted as though they had come from the freezer at a grocery store. Except the brand at the grocery store contains more meat. They were served with a tasteless "honey-mustardish sauce" which was billed as a "chipotle sour cream." Hmmmm. This was basically an appetizer of small, deep-fried bread, filled with a little bit of something dark.

I ordered the Low Country Shrimp and Grits billed as "sauteed shrimp, andouille sausage, mixed peppers, corn and tomatoes in red chili cream sauce with Logan Farms grits." What he received was a creamy stew that had no sausage whatsoever and very few grits to be found. He sent it back for the missing sausage. Once it was returned, he experienced the entree as an
overwhelmingly salty cream stew, that swam in onions (which makes him fart like the dickens). The corn and tomatoes that were advertised were either missing or so dissolved in the stew as to be rendered nonexistent.

I ordered the 8oz NY Strip, which tasted like a burnt sponge.
Mmmmm.

At this point, we realized that we had been sitting at the table with empty bread plates for the entire meal. Doug asked our waiter if the restaurant served bread. "Well, we usually bring it out with the salad but we burned the whole batch and had to throw it away. It's usually only on request so we can save money." Niiiiiice.

But here's the best part:
For our entertainment pleasure, we were tortured by what can only be described as the worst lounge singer ever. This guy (stuck in the 70's - a Kenny Rogers look-a-like BEFORE his horrid makover) seemed perfectly nice, but man, oh man was he baaaaaaad. He sat at a perfectly nice baby grand, which would have been fine by itself. Next to him was the synthetic beat machine thingie that I pictured sitting in Napoleon Dynamite's living room. Lordy, was the combination bad. He started out singing Bruce Hornsby's "That's Just The Way It Is" and ended whistling to Percy Sledge's "Sitting On The Dock Of The Bay". I held my fingertips at my temples whispering, "Please shoot me now" to my husband. It was so bad, we were actually entertained.

By this time, we were in no mood to experiment with dessert. We requested the bill. We were shocked and amazed to discover yet another gaffe. Although I requested the 8oz Strip, we were charged for the 12oz version. This added another 15 minutes of waiting to the end of what had not been a pleasant visit, as we waited "for the manager to get off the phone so we can fix the bill."

After it was adjusted correctly, the total bill came to about $75. But we still had to pay out of pocket for the $15.00 tip.

So maybe it was a nice evening after all, because we laughed madly all the way home, which made our reunion with Anton the next night all that much sweeter. Mom and Dad keep him overnight on Tuesdays.

When we got Anton back, we had discovered that Mom taught him to screech and kick his little legs in laughter. Honestly - he changes so quickly. Even after just 2 days of not seeing him, his hair is longer and he's "talking" more.

He's wonderful. Garrison's is NOT wonderful.

And I guess that's the moral of my story.

Here's a completely adorable pic of Anton during bathtime. It's our nightly ritual before bed and is so much fun. Just look at those cheeks. All four of 'em!

Yesterday the two of us went to Northside for a visit and a big thank you to the nursing staff on the HRP floor (my home for the greater parts of August and September). It was a bit weird, being back there again. Disorienting - as it was when I was there. The sensory deprivation is what made me so depressed. No breeze, no laughter, no music. Bad food, bad news, machines, monitors, no color but beige, white and a pale, dingy aqua that looked as if needed a blood transfusion. It was awful. Lots of quiet. Lots of waiting.

Surviving the depression was one of the things that made this visit so sweet and victorious. Everyone recognized me. And I got a LOT of hugs. I GAVE a lot of hugs. I think one of the things I missed while depressed was feeling like I had something to give. I will never take the power to give for granted any more. It was very gratifying to show Anton to everyone. They all knew him - monitored him each night - saw him move beneath my skin and on the screen. But to see him on the other side, so plump and happy - oh, it was grand.

I have thought a lot about the HRP nursing staff during my recovery. I still do. I have dreams about them. In spite of how much I complained about being a patient, for the most part, these nurses were wonderful. It felt so good to be standing on my own 2 feet amongst them. To be an equal and to say thank you with all my heart.

Before I left, I asked one of the nurses if there were any patients who might like a visit from me and Anton - to hear our story. There were two patients I saw. One was on bed rest with her second child, the other was with her husband, who were both waiting for their first. I'm sure I was not entirely helpful and I probably talked too much. I wonder if any of them were just being polite, or if they had not been there long enough to get as depressed as I was. But it felt good to be in those tiny rooms again and to be of some assistance this time. I tried to listen. To give answers and comments that were helpful to them. I can only hope I helped.

I think I'd like to return again. Volunteer or something. Give something back.

My god, it feels good to give again.

W O R L D 'S • T I G H T E S T • P A N T S

When Anton was born, I was convinced that he looked more like Doug than myself. Not that it matters. Back and forth, back and forth, one day I'd claim his eyes as Dusenberry's, then give them back to the Elser's the next. Very confusing. Futile, I know. But still - aren't I in there SOMEWHERE?

So I did a little digging and created a page of photos to prove I really AM his mother and that Doug and I are both in there. A lot of folks have mentioned he looks like an exact combination of the two of us, which pleases me. I think the overall picture of Anton looks immediately like Doug, but when you look in the details, you see me as well. Right now I'm hoping he's got my big square smile. I hope? I hope!

And how is Anton these days? At 4.5 months old, he's now 15 pounds and a sweet, sweet boy. His eyes have discovered his hands, which thrills him. He'll grab at anything you dangle in front of him and thinks his fist tastes fabulous. I can now talk him out of crying, which I think is fabulous. His length is in the 90th percentile - 26 inches. Way to go Anton!

He got his first cold a few days ago - mine came shortly after. Mom has it now. I think Dante should have created an extra special level of hell just for these moments. The peaceful baby you once had, who slept through the night and never threw up on you now wakes up twice a night and tops each feeding off with lovely gut wrenching cough - productive enough to vomit the milk you just fed him. He is fussy, cranky, tired, confused and on top of that, YOU'RE sick yourself. It is an entirely draining drag. But I'm still in love, you see?

Very much enchanted and in love. Entirely consumed. Aching with love. Infatuated. Grateful. He is my miracle. What I've waited for for so long.

I had a very good week at PC. The new God poster concepts were presented. This class is very smart. Sharp. Dedicated and sensitive. Yesterday afternoon a few of us took our turns crying. This is the most emotionally brave group I've ever taught. I walk out of class at the end of the day, entirely drained again, but sooooo jacked up. Like you've had too much coffee from staying up late to finish a job and can finally fall asleep - but you can't from all the adrenaline. This is why I teach. It is the most gratifying career. I'm not exaggerating when I say that during each and every class I teach, there is a moment when I pause to thank God for putting me there.

I've thought a lot about God these days. More than I have in a long time. I suppose after being so helpless during my pregnancy and struggling to heal postpartum has brought me closer to God. When I look at Anton, I know God exists. Just look at him. This new person. He GREW in me. IN ME. And we are linked.

Anton has brought more stress, tension and anxiety into my life. The life I so carefully organized and perfected. Once he arrived, all I knew, I had to relearn. Everything was different. Everything changed. If marriage and having children complicates things so much, why go to the trouble of asking for either or both? I'll tell you why. Because with all that tension, confusion and fear comes 10 times more love. It's hard-wired in us. Make more babies to create more love. Love more to make more babies. It's how our species has thrived.

We humans like to make things happen.

Mom bought Anton his first pair of shoes and we recently slipped them on his perfect pink little feet. I cried instantly. 1 - because he looked so incredibly cute in them and 2 - because shoes are made for walking. "Oh Anton. You're not going to use those shoes to walk away from me are you?" How pathetic a cry is that? I got my first glimpse of mourning each stage a child moves out of to grow into a new one.

Raising Anton will mean slowly saying goodbye to him. I know that sounds so dark - but I've never felt this co-dependant before. I've lost my big brother already. And my husband lost his mother. My father's currently fighting cancer. Mortality has never been so real. Even my own has been considered. Do I risk losing myself again just to give Anton a sibling? I think not.

So this will be my only child. I am just about sure of it. I have to fight so hard, the crazy voice in my head that's convinced I will lose him and then I'll have nothing again. What do I do with that insecurity? It is larger than life. I think it's just my job to be OK with the possible loss and love on Anton anyway. I will not deny him that love out of selfishness or fear. I will raise an optimist. A realist. Someone who sees the value in creating good no matter what.

Someone wants to make things happen.

Good things happen.

Mom and I spent a little bit of time the other day discussing what Anton might wear for his baptism. Using a bit of silk from my wedding gown was considered. So we zipped open the carefully encased gown in his bedroom closet and found the veil that she wore at her own wedding. We could not resist the temptation. I know it's silly, but he'd make a beautiful bride, no?

brilliant

iWant one. NOW.

So Anton has really become more of a person these days. About 3.5 months old - his hands have found his mouth and he's imitating my speech patterns. I can make him smile just about anytime I want and boy, is it fun. Nothing is more satisfying. Oh this is fun. Oh it is grand. Yes I'm still fat, but I don't care!

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to all of you. Lotsa wonderful pictures of our time together can be found here and here!

XO,

~Anne, Doug and Anton

Thank you, God.

~:M A R L I S • A N D • M O L L Y:~

It's not often that you meet the perfect person for a healthy friendship. And it's even more unlikely that you meet two at once. So I feel pretty blessed to have these 2 women as very good friends. Marlis and Molly. I actually met Marlis while we were both Portfolio Center students - she as an Illustration major, me as a Design major. But I really didn't get to know her well until we met again at a Callenwolde calligraphy class. That's where we met Molly, too. The three of us had great fun together and became fast friends. We started meeting up every Friday morning at Java Monkey (the Minkee) for breafast and lonnnng long talks. When I first quit my job to start my own gig, they were both incredibly supportive and always fun.

We've just found out that Molly is moving. While I am excited for their family to evolve and grow, I am sad and will miss her. Molly and Marlis planned to throw a shower for me, which had to be rescheduled because of my hospitalization. But because of this crazy time of year, we ended up cancelling the event and had an intimate gathering of our own. Very sweet and yummy and rejuvenative. So here are some sweet picturess of our fun time together. God bless Marlis and Molly!

I should be in bed by now but I need to share with you all what it feels like to watch your baby learn how to smile. Smiling expresses pleasure and it's the most wonderful gift to give another person. Smile at them. My friend Tina says that when your baby smiles - it's pay day for you. Last night at 3AM, I woke up to feed Anton and he smiled at me BIG time. A full-faced smile with his mouth and eyes. He's an angel. There's nothing like the feeling you get when you know your child is content enough to smile and be sociable.

Taking care of Anton is getting way more fun these days. He's becoming more interactive - looks deeply into my eyes. Searches for me from across the room. Responds to my voice. Coos with pleasure.

What else is nice about Anton? He can sleep 8-9 hours straight at night, so we're all getting more sleep these days. This means my headaches are getting better and I continue to feel more grounded. I had another day with no headache this week. I will be so happy to have more of them.

I fit into my old "skinny" jeans this week. Boy, are they TIGHT, but I managed to squeeze into them. This is another happy milestone!

I am beginning to feel more like a mother. More capable. Less detached from people and my previous life. My worlds are meeting and I am beginning to believe that I can do this.

I AM doing it.

There is nothing like picking up your baby and resting his head on your neck. Feeling his hot breath whisper in your ear. Tiny little panting noises. He smells like vanilla. Sweet and warm and pudgy. Perfect little creature.

My Anton. My sweet boy. My life. My joy. My child. My boy.