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.

Restless

You know, I'm so restless right now, I can't even think of anything to write. I want to write, but I can't think of anything substantial, or important, or even remotely interesting.

My baseboards are 100% installed, and my dishwasher has been mounted. There's still paint to do, and the moving back in of our living room furniture, but contractor dude's portion is almost done. Just an electrical socket in the island, and then he's done.

I had a fantastic Mother's Day! My mom chipped in with Brett for a joint Mother's Day/birthday present and I got a brand new sewing machine! This one is the Singer Futura C-250, and you can actually hook it up to your PC, download embroidery patterns, hit start, and then the thing actually embroiders it for you! Flipping amazing and so cool! I've already started working on a crazy quilt for Bryce from the scraps of fabric I've saved over the years.

I still need to move bedrooms around, but all of a sudden I have no motivation to do it. I know that sound weird, considering how much I've ranted about it over the last few months. I went into the office and looked at all the stuff that needs to be moved upstairs...so many books, no boxes for them. Then I realized that there's nothing that I can move by myself. No one to move the dresser, or mount the flatscreen TV to the wall, and move the other functional yet being-used-as-a-TV-stand-for-the-new-TV TV to Shayann's new room (which is downstairs). It's just overwhelming. And I don't want to do it. Maybe I'll lay off for a bit, and just worry about putting the bassinet in our room for now. I can still put Abbie's things into Shayann's closet for now, moving clothing from closet to closet is no biggie.

So, there you have it. Random restless ramblings. Enjoy!