Sad/happy

Last night I was up late (way too late) and decided to look through some old photobooth photos while Henry was asleep and Hank was at the studio. BAD IDEA. I found myself crying, watching little videos Henry and I made, looking at old funny pictures, and reveling in how teeny tiny he once was. I thought about a lot, but mainly about how quickly Henry's first year went by and about how he'd never be that small, ever again. I looked through photos I had taken while he slept on my chest, photos of his first smiles, pictures of his adorable bald head. I got to hear his little coos and listen to the funny sounds he made as a newborn. It was also neat to see myself as a brand new Mom. It made me realize just how painfully fast time has gone by. It was tough, and as I sat there crying and laughing I thought about how grateful I feel to have had all of these moments. Happy and sad. It must have been a middle-of-the-night thing though, because this morning when I woke up I wasn't upset anymore- more so just excited to be right where we are in this exciting 14-month stage. Although I do miss tiny Henry more than I could ever express, I love this Henry even more. And it reminded me to keep taking as many photos as I do, because I can only imagine how I'll feel looking back at these things when he's all grown up.

 

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Good Old Snail Mail

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When I was 14 my Dad's job was transferred to Arizona, and my family and I found ourselves being uprooted from our small town in New Jersey to a suburb of Phoenix. Even at that often-tumultuous age I didn't mind moving too much- I was extremely outgoing and I actually looked forward to meeting new people. I did, however, miss my childhood pals terribly. I had been born and raised in the same place, the same home, and had deep roots where I grew up. Luckily though it was the 90s, and although email was beginning to take off, my friends and I still preferred good old snail mail to keep in touch. For the first few years of my Arizona life my girlfriends and I mailed hundreds of letters back and forth. I still have most of them in a huge box. Sometimes when I'm at my parents' I get that box out and sift through them. If you were to join me you'd see pages upon pages of carefully crafted 14-year old penmanship, i's dotted with hearts, tons of "LYLAS" and "SWAK," and stickers. Lots of stickers.

I can still remember waiting for the mail to come every single day, and when I saw brightly colored, probably Lisa Frank stationary sticking out through the pile my Mom would bring inside, my heart would jump in my chest.

Now a days though, mail is mainly full of bills, junk, or strange catalogs for ill-fitting women's clothing I'll never buy. On some fabulous days we receive packages, and on even more special days there will be a card or a letter from someone I love.

I'm lucky enough to know quite a few ladies who pride themselves on using the postal service. They are pen pal extraordinaires and work at keeping the art of letter-writing alive. I am not so good at it, but every so often I'll send a letter off to a friend and I get so excited thinking about how excited they'll probably get, getting real mail.

I thought it would be fun to encourage all of you to go get some pretty stationary, your favorite pen, and write a few letters to people you care about. I guarantee you that a handwritten letter will probably make your Grandma's day, as I'm sure in her lifetime she's seen the sad decline of letters coming to her mailbox. Mail something off to a faraway friend just to say hello or send a letter to an old teacher letting them know how much they impacted you. Real, handwritten letters mean so much more than an email, and I am willing to bet that your recipient's day will be made.

So, let's all promise to write three handwritten letters this upcoming week! In the comments below, tell me who you are going to write your three letters to...and if you comment and commit, you must follow through! ;) Are you in?

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