For those of you that have been wondering where I went, I went to cyber-hell for a couple of days (more tech problems with our servers…). My data and I were finally released, and now the fun can re-commence.

Willem is officially two now, and, no, I don’t mean he has just reached his official birth date. I mean to say he is a terror. He makes me nuts most of the time: tests limits, crashes into thing, jumps off things, and is generally destructive. But he is damn cute - I can never get enough. If he naps too long I miss him. The little booger has conquered me.For those that live in my area, Atlanta, GA, I will be making an announcement soon about upcoming photo shoots at a greatly reduced rate. I am trying to fill out my portfolio and will be looking for certain age groups to shoot. Feel free to email me if you want to inquire ahead of time.

Have a happy one, everybody.

Recently one of my computer friends lost a child due to a tragic accident. From one who has experienced death up close, you never know when it is going to come around and hit you head on. I find myself lost in the web of it all whenever someone else is touched by it in the manner I was: sudden and without reason. And it is like reliving those moments all over again. I am the metaphor queen as many of my friends would tell you and have always seen life as one of those 2-D holograms out of the cereal box - just standing at an angle away from my peers seeing something different. Death is like the best book you never meant to read. It takes over your life, changes the way you look at things, and, when asked years later about it, you can’t imagine what you would be without its effects. It is an unfortunate side effect that you can never go back to the way you were: it has made its impression, and you will never be the person that the one you lost knew. Death has taught me, after much time and through its surgical ways, to take life as it comes and relish in the outcomes you never expect - to say what you mean and always say, “I love you.” After I lost my father, a women (that I really cannot stand) told me the most important thing anyone told me during that time: “You will never get over this.”

In memory of Ava I would like to remind everyone to lock there cars at all times, and teach your children to honk the horn if they ever become trapped inside.

We were unable to let pink balloons rise to the heavens on Saturday, so we had a mini photo shoot featuring Will, a bathtub, and, of course, pink balloons. I got many great shots, but it is the ones I don’t intend to get that really speak. I think there is another metaphor wrapped up in that.

Well the party went well: the house looked like a bomb went off. But I take that as a sign of a good time had by all. I shall start with the decor and add kids later. I will admit that I did not take as many pics as I would have liked: I was having too good a time to concentrate on my camera.

Since I am not yet done with the party pics, here is a bit of entertainment while you wait.

This is a pic I have not shared with many people. I took this months ago and have yet to print it for our home. Josh gave me a remote for my camera, so we decided to try it out. After about 200 tries, we finally got one we liked. You probably won’t see many pics of me (seeing as I am the one usually holding the camera, and I am not a fan of being in front of it). Before you ask, no, you cannot have a copy. Maybe I should move the watermark over my face…