Handwritten Letters

I've determined that a handwritten letter seems to hold so much more weight than a typed one. I'm not sure why, but it's true. When I really need to get my feelings out or a point across to Brett, I write him a letter. I usually write these before he comes to bed and leave them in the bathroom, and then he reads them after I'm asleep. I write them not to point fingers, but mostly because we both tend to get defensive when we're both trying to get two points across, and I've learned over the years that I can write a letter, take my time and make sure I'm heard without pointing fingers or placing blame...then he can read it, mull it over, and we usually come back the next evening and chat about the concerns on both sides of the table.

This never happens when I type a letter. It probably comes across more formal...it's quicker to type than it is to write. Subconsciously, I guess when you hand write something, it tells the reader that you took the time to write it, to think about what you were going to write, that now your wrist hurts. But, all of the feeling, the emotion, the point you're trying to make, it's all right there. When you type, sure you can edit yourself, delete and replace, but you also run the risk of going too fast, of NOT using the same filters you would have had you slowed down and just wrote it out.

So, long story short, I hand wrote a letter last night. It was read, mulled over, and he was home by 6:45. We had dinner as a family, he played with Bryce and watched some cartoons. We watched the Mariner's game together. And now we're heading to bed. Good night all.

Beyond

I don't know what else to say.

I'm pregnant. I'm hot. I'm tired. I'm uncomfortable. I'm swelled up and bloated.

Today, I've been put on partial bed rest. Today, you'd think he would have tried to come home early, so I could begin to follow doctor's orders.

But, today is like any other day. There are cars to fix, and the boss is out of town, so even more responsibility. So, he stayed. I guess I shouldn't be so surprised.

Yeah, he comes home. I'm grateful for that. But when he does, at 8 or 9 at night, which is becoming the new norm, Bryce suffers. He wants to see him. He stays up past his bedtime to see him. And then he yells when Bryce throws a fit. He's tired, he needs structure, he needs his bedtime back. But he needs Daddy time too.

He gets home. He tags me out, I go lay down. He goes downstairs, and has his well-deserved beer and kicks his feet up. And then I don't see or talk to him until 6AM the next morning, when he says goodbye.

And the cycle continues.

Kitchen remodel. Sick kid. Pregnant wife. Sweltering heat. Doesn't matter.

Just wish I could push the remainder of my life back a couple hours to accommodate.

Temper Tantrums Preggo Style

Yup, I had one. And I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel better after it was all said and done.

What was it about? What else! The house! I absolutely, utterly, and COMPLETELY lost it Sunday afternoon. No control of the pitch, volume, or sailor-laden language coming out of my mouth. I'm pretty sure I reminded Brett 51 times that we have a baby on the way, that is due in 3 months, that we have not even STARTED putting a room together for. But to be honest, much of it is a blur and I can't remember. It's like I blacked out for a moment.

I have a good man, though. He gave me my space, let me take a nap, and apologized after I woke up (I did, too...I don't enjoy acting like a 2 year old, and I'm certainly not proud of it).

Wednesday (tomorrow) is the magical day, when contractor dude has promised to be back to begin work again on the little things that should only take sheer minutes to complete (according to Brett, anyway). Brett advised me, "I told him 'you HAVE to come or you HAVE to call if you can't...because if you don't, I'm going to die. My wife will literally kill me.'"

So, we'll see if he shows. Needless to say I haven't turned blue from holding my breath yet.

Things to finish:
Paint (just trimming)
Bathroom paint (all of it)
Baseboards (throughout entire downstairs)
Mount dishwasher
Trim the dishwasher
Re-install electrical outlet in my island
Pick out and install backsplash in kitchen and bathroom
Move furniture back in from garage (which only amounts to 2 couches, a leather chair, and the piano)
Move accessories back into the living room/dining room

Acceptance

I think I've almost given up. Contractor dude has not been here in 2 weeks now, despite promising daily work this week. There are such minor things left to be done, but they MUST be done before I can move in the rest of my furniture or starting shifting rooms to get ready for Abbie's impending arrival.

Worse, Brett does not seem to care in the slightest that nothing has been done. Brett also has done nothing, short of shifting his paint/plumbing/electrical supplies around the kitchen (but not to the garage where they belong) in order to pseudo-appease me, so that I can cook in my kitchen.

I accept that I cannot control Brett, or contractor dude, but I can control myself, right? So, the boycott begins:

I am not cleaning a single surface in my house (except toilets and countertops, thanks to Swine Flu anxiety), picking up a single tool, straightening up a single room, or putting anything away until this house is complete. I'm talking paint done, baseboards back in, furniture in place. Dishwasher mounted. Dishwasher trim installed. Electrical outlet put back in my island.

I don't care how much he bitches, whines, moans, complains, or stomps around this house in his passive-aggressive way. NOT.GONNA.DO.IT.

Let the games begin...

If It's Not One Thing...

Progress always seems to go hand in hand with setbacks. And I'm having a difficult time coping with this roller coaster in my current physical and emotional state (ie: PREGNANT!)

Last week, painting was finished (minus trimming up to the ceiling and the downstairs bathroom), and the trimming of the cabinets was complete (minus mounting the dishwasher and installing the trim around it). We've been told the dishwasher component will be completed by tomorrow.

I ordered blinds for the kitchen, slider, and fam room window last week, and those should be in by tomorrow as well. If not, Brandon from 3 Day Blinds is going to get an earful from me on Thursday (when I think 3 day Blinds...I think order...then 3 days later, they're on your doorstep...not the case people, hate to burst the bubble).

What is there still to do? Moldings, throughout our ENTIRE house. You see, because we drastically changed the colors (light maple to dark cherry), the trim no longer matches. ANYWHERE. So, we have a choice: try and reuse the trim we currently have and hope no one notices the differences (that's my choice), or buy all new trim for the ENTIRE house (that's Brett's choice). If we do it my way, we need to get nails out of the old trim and strip off the caulking, but then we're good to go and can re-install in only the areas where it was taken off. If we go Brett's route, we have to pull all the trim EVERYWHERE and in each room (even UPSTAIRS!), and then spend money on new trim, likely stain it, wait for that to try, and the reinstall it EVERYWHERE.

But, there are bigger fish to fry. We can't put the molding back in until the floor issue is resolved. Floor issue, you ask yourself? What floor issue? Apparently, the hardwood installers (who we were told were the "best in the business") took the easy way out and totally f'ed up the installation of our floor. There are now zipper joints, the wood was laid to close to the walls (and therefore won't be able to expand without causing damage to the walls), and something about the width not being laid to industry standards. This was all noticed by a friend of Brett's who used to lay hardwood floors, and supported by a real-life, full-fledged hardwood inspector (who, for a nominal fee, will inspect your floor and write a report that is admissable in court, if it goes that for...and yeah, and he'll testify for you too). When approached with the issues, the guy who sold us the floor came over (before the inspector did, mind you) and told us he didn't see anything wrong with the floor, and then demanded we pay the remaining 50% balance. Ah, young grasshopper, you apparently have never dealt with a Monahan before. So, now, depending on how the flooring company wishes to proceed with us, and what the inspector's final recommendations are (deal with it but get your money back, or it has to come out due to structural issues), it may be QUITE some time before we have a finished house. Harumph.

But, Brett's letting me move all of my furniture back in from the garage, so it'll at least feel SOMEWHAT put back together. For awhile anyway.

Patience, Young Grasshopper...

The guy who is doing all of the odds and ends stuff at our house has had pneumonia for the last two weeks. Hence, since the addition of our granite, NOTHING ELSE has been completed on our house. Brett (bless his heart) has installed our sinks, brought the oven back in and hooked it up, and did the electrical work to hook up and re-mount the microwave.

Our first meal back in our house was cooked on Monday night. I made a pork loin, roasted red potatoes, and asparagus, which I have been craving since I first lost my kitchen.

The next night was gorgeous weather, so I made filet mignon's wrapped in bacon on the bbq, twice baked potatoes and steamed broccoli.

Last night was spaghetti, and tonight we did leftovers.

I have one corner of my counter top to work on currently, due to the the plumbing/electrical/power tools that are still over-taking my kitchen. However, I can now cook dammit! :)

I have slowly begun moving my kitchen back into the office and putting things where they go. On the list to buy new: matching glasses and matching mixing bowls. I have a mish-mash of both, and too many that could be donated or really should be tossed! :)

Good thing I didn't volunteer to host Easter, because there's no way this house will be done by Sunday!