Omni Writers & Artists » Mommy Writer – Bethany Hiitola

Blogger is not my friend

Mommy Writer - Bethany Hiitola — Wed, 03 Feb 2010 16:38:49 +0000

I do all of my web work myself (like that isn't obvious). So right now, with no more FTP support by Blogger, I'm in a bit of a pickle. Their nice and easy solution of using custom domain mapping does NOTHING for me. See, I don't point my "blog" to the main domain of www.bethanyhiitola.com. In fact, I go to a subdirectory (/blog), thus--I'm screwed.

Have not found an easy way to work this, other than to just pull the blog for now and rework it to another address completely and then integrate this NEW URL into my website. But, honestly, I think that sucks. And I don't want anyone viewing my blog to have to go elsewhere to read my writing. Hell, I pay for this domain and space, I want all of my content there. Not to mention that 8 million links floating out there that already point to this space using it's today url (but after next week won't work).

So, that means, I might not be blogging anytime soon until I figure this out. And I'll definitely be cursing Blogger until the end of time. I've spent over 4 years blogging with them. This might mean I leave.

I’ll do it for a Running Skirt

Mommy Writer - Bethany Hiitola — Tue, 26 Jan 2010 17:41:18 +0000

Yes, physical running in case you are wondering. In January. In Southeast Wisconsin. In the snow and ice. My sanity is indeed in question. But after watching my husband run three half marathons and a marathon and looking at all those cute running outfits at the Nike store... well, it is inspiring and motivating.

Aside from all the "I-wish-I-could-do-that-running-thing" moments, it is also because my weight has gotten out of control. After I had The Peanut I was willing to be a little bit heavy. Being slightly Plus was a-okay as long as I could still have a specialty coffee in the morning with the gooey white chocolate syrup and a juicy hamburger now and again life was good. But then the stress eating started. And really, I don't even want to talk about what that means, other than to say it hasn't been good.

So, I need to do something drastic. Enter, running. Is it ideal? Not sure. But what I do know is that it will force my husband to give me the time I need to actually run. ALONE. And it will force me to be active for at least 20 minutes 3 - 4 times a week. If it can do 1/2 of what it did for The Husband for me (loss of 30+ pounds in 6 months), I'll take it. I need all the help I can get. If I can fit in the cute little running skirt thingies by late summer, you bet your ass I'll do a half marathon in the fall to show that off. But I'll need all the help I can get. I'm not an exercise geek. I get bored with the routine, and I often like to blow off responsibilities to myself like this. I'll need the collective power of the Internet, my Husband, my family and most of all the willpower to keep this going. But the running skirt is my incentive. And an ass that is as hard as a rock.

* Help me make this happen. I'll post "before" and "after" pictures if I make it in the skirt by my birthday (Aug 22).

“Mooooo-oooomy”

Mommy Writer - Bethany Hiitola — Sat, 23 Jan 2010 16:58:00 +0000

The two-syllable word we all hate to here (when said by a 2-year-old) followed by the most hilarious:

"Moooo - ooomy" She whines, "I want your Boooobie!"

(or maybe that was movie?!?)

Either way--hilarious, no?

Bad Habits are Hard to Break

Mommy Writer - Bethany Hiitola — Fri, 22 Jan 2010 21:33:59 +0000

I’d always wanted to be a writer. In my youth it was songs and poetry. Mostly because they were short, sweet, and easy to produce in the short allotment of time that my brain could focus. Being a nervous child, I was always full of anxiety, never sat still, and always had plans. Mornings would be planning time. I’d set small goals like: write three songs today, make a mix tape from the radio, worry about the boy in class that passed a note about me in biology, write a poem, watch television, avoid and then call my girlfriends, twice, to talk about all of this and more. Only, I didn’t talk about my writing much. For some reason I kept that secret, as if it might hide the “real” me from the rest of the world. Because then, and even now, I can’t write much without the truth seeping in. And God knows, when you are 13 and you are worried about joining chorus, or the hair growing under your arms, you don’t want the entire school making a judgement about you based on that. So notebooks were written in, hidden under the bed, in the drawer and tossed aside in backpacks throughout my childhood. Some were neatly kept hidden in the most safest of spots as it had the best handwritten pieces I could muster. Others were thrown aside in a massive upheaval (or cleaning) attempt made in my room. But the love of writing and being inside myself for extended periods of time was never lost. Even, when I hit college and “real life” when writing wasn’t a priority, I’d find myself jotting down phrases, paragraphs, a few pages of a story in the back of a notebook, only to be tucked (or thrown) away at the end of the semester.

Today, I wish I could say I finally found a way to pull all those stories together and collect myself enough to write endlessly without interruption. But the truth is, my life demands that I am scattered. I have a day job that demands constant attention, children who do the same, and a husband—that although he tries—loves a bit of my attention as well. And when you throw all of that together in 24 hour chunks, there still isn’t a lot of time for writing. Not like there was when I was a teen and my only responsibilities were eating, sleeping, dressing, behaving, and school (that I might add was somewhat easy for me). Though, thinking back, I felt just as scattered then as I do now. Just differently.

I’ve spent the better part of this month trying to regain the diligence I had only three months ago for writing. I’d write if I have 5 minutes or an hour—and time didn’t really matter. I’d take every word and add it to the count. I’d blog, write an essay, outline my next novel idea, and even hammer out a few marketing plans. All while juggling the rest of my life. But then suddenly I let one 15 minute chunk of time pass me by. And then another. Pretty soon I was just letting days and weeks slide where I writing dropped to the lowest priority. Thus, so did my stories/essays/blog posts and my general happiness about working toward my small goal of making my writing into a business after so many years.

One might think it easy to get back on the bandwagon of writing. I mean, I did it once right? How hard can it be to just keep the notebooks lying around, computers open and let the words flow… every 5, 15, or 30 minutes at a time? But have you ever gone on and then OFF a diet? How hard is it to get back on THAT bandwagon? Because really, when you take time that you once used to do one thing (in my case writing) and suddenly have it returned to you to do something else (laundry, diapers, nap, read, television, rest, thinking) giving that time up again to do something else… well isn’t as easy as it sounds. Just like the soda you’ve gotten SO used to having in the afternoon as a pick-me-up suddenly being banned on the new diet. So, alas I’m struggling. With writing. With eating. Thinking outside my normal routine. Becoming creative again. And becoming active again. All at once.

And I’m admitting (again) to being a sporadic type writer. Still writing phrases in notebooks, napkins, and in fragmented computer files on almost every computer I use regularly. Catching moments of brilliance into text messages on my cell phone. Waking before sunrise to sneak a few 100 words into the laptop. And stealing what I can from my creative side of the brain to weave a story, a message, a project together into “something.” I can’t and don’t write for hours at a time. Even when I crave that amount of time for long writing stretches, my mind might implode after 30 minutes or so. Who gets that kind of uninterrupted time? Unless of course you’re writing full time. Or maybe don’t have children or the Internet. But then again, I don’t get caught up in routines. And if writing in 15 minute chunks works for me, I’ll take it. As long as I can start writing again. Each and every 15 minutes I get.

Bad Habits are Hard to Break

Mommy Writer - Bethany Hiitola — Fri, 22 Jan 2010 21:33:59 +0000

When all else fails… procrastinate

Mommy Writer - Bethany Hiitola — Fri, 22 Jan 2010 01:39:16 +0000

I feel a story in me. A few actually. Voices of characters that are edgier, grumpier and more sarcastic than others (which for me is going to really put me over the line in terms of a voice), but apparently I am not ready to write with these characters yet. Or maybe I am not ready to hear what they have to say because it will tell me a bit more about myself than I care to know. So... I am procrastinating.

Laundry is half done. I have work projects that have been stagnant for a year that I am finally getting around to following up with, and I am even blogging. I'm classic for this sort of procrastination. I'm trying to pin it on a weekend getaway--you know one of those Get Me Out of the House Alone moments and stretch it into an entire weekend to get away and be me, but it isn't likely to happen. No one person's fault really- we've got races to run (well the Husband has that), Tiger Scout meetings, and a million other errands that need running that I feel I should take my part. But maybe I'll stretch it into a long afternoon. Or some quiet time in the wee hours of the night. I don't know. These characters are kinda secretive. But I know when their ready (and I'm ready), I'm not sure I'll be able to slow down even if I want to.

I. Can't. Wait.

Simple. Concise. Goal-making.

Mommy Writer - Bethany Hiitola — Thu, 21 Jan 2010 01:02:09 +0000

I'm not sleeping again. Or maybe better phrased would be: I'm not sleeping very well again. It might be work creeping into my brain, or no exercise in my routine, or the fact that I am drinking more caffeine than ever or a 2-year-old who has pneumonia again... Regardless it is doing nothing for me but making me cranky and restless. And that focus I need to get the day job stuff done AND write in the evenings? Oh so non-existent. So, I'm back to making small short term goals. This week-- going to cut down to only 3 coffees a week in the mornings. And drink more water.

But it brings up something I've forgotten this year. Short term goals. I haven't made any yet this year. And thus haven't been writing much except for the book under contract. Sure, writing is writing... but writing my fiction and personal essays are a passion. And one I have lost a bit this year. If the blog entries are any indication, I've completely jumped ship.

So by the end of next month I have 2 small goals: submit 2 pieces of work for publishing.

That's it. Simple. Concise. And pretty "open" in terms of rules. Add that to the less caffeine and more water goal and it sounds like I am making new year resolutions. I better stop while I am ahead.

New Year, Mediocre Outlook

Mommy Writer - Bethany Hiitola — Wed, 06 Jan 2010 15:54:30 +0000

I spent much of late last year working. And, as from the last posts here, you can see I am still at it. A LOT. So having a week off at the end of year, I spent time reflecting and promising myself I wouldn't make any resolutions. I slept in, did minimal work work, did some writing for the book I'm currently under contract for, and did a bunch of nothing. Including no blogging whatsoever. Then I wondered.... should I even blog again? Is it worth it? Is it garnering me any benefits?

Undoubtedly, if you corralled 30 bloggers in a room, you'd get any number of answers to these questions. But for me, it forced me to at least think about writing every day. Even if--as you can see--I didn't. And it forced me to spend time writing (when I indeed put my ass in the chair and did it) what I liked to write. Then, with luck, I'd move over and start writing a bit of fiction afterward. So it was a win-win for me. Regardless of hit numbers and what I actually wrote here as far as content and its entertainment value.

Which brings me to the point of this all. I'll still be blogging this year. I can say with great confidence, it likely isn't going to be as regularly as it was in 2006 when I was blogging almost every day. But I will be blogging. And tweeting. And trying to keep up my writing. Even when it is hard and difficult and doesn't jive with my day-job work life. Which right now, unfortunately, is MOST of the time. But I refuse to give up the dream of writing on my own terms. So, I begin again, making the ONLY new year resolution I ever make. And that is, to KEEP WRITING.

Happy New Year All.

Something out of the ordinary

Mommy Writer - Bethany Hiitola — Sun, 06 Dec 2009 23:51:02 +0000

Things really haven't changed....

- still working some crazy hours, but at least now I can try to off load on a new person. One I am trying train in between the chaos of deadlines. But help nonetheless

- my daughter is still nursing. I've been done with it for over 3 months now, but too tired to try to deal with the screaming and weaning mix that will have to happen for her to quit. She's attached and I'm exhausted so we are still doing that dance. Hopefully she'll kick the habit before potty training

- oh and my husband still leaves clothes at the end of the bed, on the floor, and I'm driven so bonkers by this fact I pick them up daily so that I can walk by without tripping on jeans or shoes, or God forbid underwear, but alas, he's my husband and it is the whole til death to us part

But then there are the other days. The ones where things sorta don't go my way and we have some extra-ordinary circumstances. Like say a few weeks ago when I smashed my face into some concrete.

Think I am kidding? Well no. I just tripped on a bit-higher-than-normal curb and suddenly find myself intimate with the concrete. Would have been all fun and gritty if it weren't for the blood. And sudden missing of part of my front tooth. And the swelling. And the look of my son's face when I looked up at him after my fall--he paled and almost fainted. It was as bad as he reacted.

Concrete burn bad, that landed on my chin, lips, nose, and where I might have a woman-stache. It looked awful. And was compounded by the fact that I lost part of my tooth. All on a typical Saturday night, on the way to dinner. We managed dinner somehow. Well everyone ELSE managed dinner, I was putting cool napkins of ice to my face and walking to the restroom every 5 minutes to see if I could still recognize my face. And my daughter sat comfortably on my husband's lap the entire time (apparently scabbed and bloody faces scare her).

I even landed at work the next day caked in 5 lbs of make-up with lips that looked like I'd just had a huge Botox job on on them. And then next day much of the same. 3 weeks later, I have my tooth fixed, mild redness left on my chin and woman-stache and a bit of some scar tissue inside my lips. And I've almost forgotten how absolutely ridiculous I looked when my face hit the pavement outside the trendy restaurant with an audience of a half dozen.

The BEST MOMENT EVER

Mommy Writer - Bethany Hiitola — Wed, 04 Nov 2009 19:41:00 +0000

Last night about 10:30pm... lying in bed with my daughter.* She's smiling and giggling and being a 2-year-old. Which really, in and of itself is awesome. But it gets better.

She says, "Night, night Mommy." And pats my back. Then leans THIS CLOSE to my face and gives me one of those kisses you just want to remember forever.

Grinning I give her a kiss back. Then she says, "Mooooommmy," very quietly and touches my eyes. That's the sign to close them. And just as I do, I hear even more quiet, "Tinkle, Tinkle, lil star.....how wonder where are......"

I try to peak at her, but get scolded, "Mommy, shhhhhhh. Night time."

And again, with the song (though this time louder), "Tinkle, Tinkle, Lil STAR...." for about 12 times or so.

Maybe it's me, the mom, but hell, I don't remember the last time I was sung to sleep. And it was even better when I nodded off and awoke to that same little girl asleep next to me only a short hour later.

Twinkle, Twinkle Little Start has a whole new place in my heart.

* Don't judge people. I let her stay up after 8pm. We're both happy. It works for us.

Facts of Life

Mommy Writer - Bethany Hiitola — Fri, 30 Oct 2009 03:31:00 +0000

There are two things I am certain off:

1) it is a matter of time before I fall over from exhaustion

2) life is too short to waste time worrying about over half the items on my daily to do list

But alas, I am still here struggling to find a way to still do everything that entails my day job and I'm not sleeping well dealing with all those little things. Sure "no one is going to die" if I miss a deadline or not meet expectations, but that is easier to say then do (as in, literally drop the ball on a project and have someone come scold me for it).

So, my Friday and Saturday nights have now become working ones--whether day job or the extra writing night job. And I am trying to hire help (know any marketing writers that are technology geeks that live in Northern Illinois?). And trying to still write and blog and do all the things that make me happy (kissing/hugging/cuddling with kids and husband aside. We do that REGARDLESS of the rest). Someday this economy has to come back in full force. And then the rest will follow suit. Right?

Sit!

Mommy Writer - Bethany Hiitola — Tue, 27 Oct 2009 18:29:26 +0000

I've been wondering... is it normal for your 2-year-old to order you to Sit! (and yes Sit! with the exclamation) so that she can do your hair?

Maybe it is a hint that I need something done with the hair. I know it's been over the 6 week recommendation. But so has that nagging dentist appointment. Or annual exam thing. And that hasn't put any fire under my ass to get any of that done.

Well regardless, she's doing a decent job when she's not knotting my bangs in the comb. So I guess I'll let her have the fun. Hell, it's better than taking that call. Or working.

It’s the weekend right?

Mommy Writer - Bethany Hiitola — Sat, 17 Oct 2009 21:52:10 +0000

Because honestly, I haven't stopped take a breath in almost a month. And yes, that means working weekends, nights, and in between. For both day job, mom job, and writing. It should be a good thing. Really. But I think it has succumb now to some sickness. My kids both have pneumonia. I'm fighting the same germ, and now my head is swimming in something close to circles as I try to re-collect myself, my life and maintain a household.

But good things have happened too. The husband ran his first marathon (this merits a post on its own), my son is loving 1st grade, my daughter got her first day care injury, and I am over half way done with the book I am writing that is under contract.

It also has some bad things--my eating habits are shit, I haven't slept well in over 2 months (and likely going to stay that way), hair cuts are a thing of my past, and I don't have a babysitter for any evening and weekend time I'd like to get away.

Honestly, I'll get back to writing here sometime. It's a lifeline for me. I just can't promise when. If I try to say next week, inevitably work life will fall apart. Or God forbid the pneumonia that hit my kids will find its way into my lungs. So let's just say... sometime in the future shall we?

It’s the weekend right?

Mommy Writer - Bethany Hiitola — Sat, 17 Oct 2009 21:52:10 +0000

Ever wonder what DOESN’T get published?

Mommy Writer - Bethany Hiitola — Sat, 26 Sep 2009 20:08:57 +0000

I often start blog posts and then never finish them. Sometimes it is due to lack of time... have 5 minutes, jot down a few thoughts, and then never finish them. Others, it's just that I find the topic LAME or a bunch or rants that would bore you to tears. And then there are the others that would have found their way to the Internet eventually, if I would remember wrote them. But now, so out of context they make no sense.

To not let the words die, I'm sharing The Lost Posts today (that and the fact I am under deadline for the next chapter of under-contract book. Can't let another day procrastinating on that get in the way). So, without further ado.... here's 2 that didn't make the cut or past the Draft folder until now.

LOST POST #1: Writing with One

They say write and it will come. It being the famous bloggy type topic that will keep the Internet Masses entertained. At the moment, I am doubtful of the advice. Since I am sitting smack dab center of a bustling cafe waiting for inspiration. And I am still writing with little coming to me to complete this post.

Except maybe the fact that at least 4 people are watching me right now thinking that I am not really writing and just "acting" like I am writing (yes people. I have a finished novel out there. Well at least with my agent. Another one is right here on my hard drive. I just need to like the ending before I send it off).

Oh and then there is the whole mess with the house. Which I really don't want to talk about. Because well, it is going miserably. And I just don't have enough energy to even blog about its mess. Plus, who knows who reads this blog. I could piss off some more people.

Pregnancy. Yeah. That can always e a topic. But hell, if i start down that path, that is all I will talk about. And you all will be bored. Just like the writing topic. Sure the blog is named Mommy Writer. And I have a lot to say about all that stuff. It would be nice today to not be those things. Or be those things but talk about something more interesting. but my life is not full of anything more interesting at the moment.

See? Now 10 minutes later and I am still where I was. Writing with no topic. This writing and blogging business. It's for the birds.

A little background on that one, it is over 3 years old. We owned 2 homes, had 2 mortgages, and were likely at least 3 months away from any sort of sale on the first home. and yes, pregnant. And working. And absolutely trying to take advantage of life with only 1 kid and write a little.

LOST POST #2: It Started When....

Wait. It's an hour ahead of where it was yesterday? An hour faster? Slower? Can't we just keep the time the way it is. Screw the light and dark thing. Seriously. It just messes with my internal clock that is constantly telling me to get more sleep. But this time around--this earlier than normal crap--really has me reeling. I can't keep anything straight.

Today (oh shit, now it is actually yesterday) was a prime example. Birthday party madness for a family member. We get up, eat a small breakfast, shower, dress everyone, run ONE errand--oh and look at that. We are late. ONE HOUR EXACTLY late to this party. Now, if it had been the "old" time... well, we'd be on time wouldn't we?

I can only imagine how tomorrow--oh wait, I mean how TODAY--is going to go at work. Oh you bet your booty I'll say this more than once, "Now it it were the old time..." Let's just hope I make it to the morning meeting on time. I don't think the Daylight Savings Excuse will cut it. Especially after having one practice day that I totally blew off the radar. Or the fact that I am again up late. But hey, no one needs to know my ailments do they? Oh wait, I just spent three posts complaining of my various medical predicaments. Why not tell the world about my psychotic tendencies. It should make for good blogging fodder. Or the next Thanksgiving meal conversation.

This one is about a year old or so. It's sorta sill right? Or maybe just lame. Either way, it probably was better to stay in the Drafts.

I'm sure you just found me that little bit less interesting. Re-reading them, I am tending to agree. But, that's a conversation for another day. I have to get to that chapter.

The Joys of Shower Time with a 2-yr-old

Mommy Writer - Bethany Hiitola — Fri, 25 Sep 2009 01:28:02 +0000

"I see your butt," she says with a giggle. "I see MY butt." More giggles.

I want to know who let her watch Beavis and Butt-head.

It’s all a bit scary

Mommy Writer - Bethany Hiitola — Sun, 20 Sep 2009 21:19:52 +0000

My daughter is suddenly scared of any unfamiliar noise. It could be the cat meowing from 2 rooms over, a lawn mower, or a motorcycle zooming down the street. And as cute as the, "Mom! Scary! Scary! Scaaaaarrrrrrryy!" is the first 4o times she comes running to me for that reassuring hug. I've actually just confirmed I've scarred my daughter for life.

Back story. We're in St. Louis enjoying a family trip to somewhere new. We'd had a lovely breakfast at this downtown joint called Rooster. Mimosas were enjoyed, a crying fit from The Peanut, and a $60 bill that was so worth it to feel this lovely/urban/chic-ness that is foreign to me under my normal daily activities. Then the elevator ride to the top of the Arch and more meandering of the the downtown area. Fast-forward through a handful of other touristy things to the Mississippi steam boat ride (we had the pleasure of sailing on the Tom Sawyer). It's 45 minutes in, The Peanut had decided that she must nurse--no matter who is watching and where, because DAMMIT she is tired. So we did. And she fell into a peaceful sleep that let me enjoy the last bit of the ride. Until we had to do the required horn blowing riverboat crap that allows us to dock again.

Let's just put it simply-it scared the shit out of her. Being that she was sleeping, it was worse than a normal horn blowing situation (if there is such a thing).

And now every noise--loud or soft--is a scary ordeal. "Scary! Scary Mom!"

Who knew this scarring business is so easy? And now, I'll be the brunt of every scary noise threat she hears for the next 16 years.

So much to talk about, so little time

Mommy Writer - Bethany Hiitola — Fri, 11 Sep 2009 16:38:33 +0000

I've been absent--in mind and in blogging lately. Sorry. It comes with the territory of being a working mother trying to also realize her dreams of writing, being under a book contract deadline, and the start of school. All of which I want to write about. And more. Like:

- How my son now has to bring only FRUIT or VEGETABLES for snack time at school. Seriously? I mean, I get the no candy or soda thing, but only fruits and veggies? What gives the teachers the right to do that?

- Or how suddenly my son hits the 1st grade, gets a locker of his own, and he's grown up. As in really grown up and I wonder where the time went

- And the book contract, the chapters I am turning in, and how I wanted to be more prepared for this but instead am delivering chapters up the very last second. And the amazing story of how the book came to be. My lovely editor. My life as a real paid-writer-under-contract life.

- Or how work, again, is sorta eating up my life. So I twitter. And Facebook since I can do it well from my phone. But this blogging thing--important to me as it is--has been left by the wayside and I'm disappointed by this and myself

- A gazillion daily things about my daughter. How she sings songs in the car, runs up to me to ask for "halp," and how she has so much love of life I am jealous or her zeal for life

- And of course all the little and big plans I have for writing. I have a novel swimming in my head I need to get out. I have a few short stories in there too that are insisting I write them now but I can't get a few hours to do so but yet they continue to sit there and wait (and when I finally do write them, they'll be posted and announced like the other one).

And so much more. I've just turned into a bulleted list since I can't form any sentences that string together any more. So hope--no PRAY--time gives me a chance and I can change these bullets into something better. Something productive. Something create. And the blog comes back to life. I really do have a ton to share. Just no time to share it.

Still Counting…

Mommy Writer - Bethany Hiitola — Wed, 26 Aug 2009 04:21:50 +0000

Five days later and I'm still alive. Very much alive in fact--even after 4 major tourist traps, 2 hotels, over 16 hours of time in the car, 15 meals that came from a restaurant, screaming/biting children, and more money spent than I care to share. And it feels good. Until I start thinking about Thursday. Which means I am back at work. Anxiety is already kicking in. And so is the twitch of my left eye to check my work email and mentally prepare myself for what lies ahead for Thursday. BUT...

(That's right, BUT)... am forcing myself to keep this a vacation. No work emails. No calls. No text messages. Nothing until I set foot onto the premises on Thursday morning. That being said, it is Tuesday night, there's a small thunderstorm outside that has some rain hitting the roof and my world seems almost peaceful. At least for the moment until I remember I have bills to pay, rooms to paint, and a book chapter due in less than 5 days. But hey, who's counting. I'm STILL on vacation right now. And when one is on vacation... we ignore everything else for a short spell.

On the Road Again

Mommy Writer - Bethany Hiitola — Mon, 17 Aug 2009 19:56:21 +0000

Have you ever noticed that when you visit someplace new you suddenly feel re-energized? Maybe it’s just me. But really, that’s what this site is all about isn’t it. Me. Me. Me. And it’s my theory on keeping the creativity (and spice) in your life going. Trying new things. Being in new places. Trying on [...]

On the Road Again

Mommy Writer - Bethany Hiitola — Mon, 17 Aug 2009 19:56:21 +0000

Have you ever noticed that when you visit someplace new you suddenly feel re-energized? Maybe it's just me. But really, that's what this site is all about isn't it. Me. Me. Me. And it's my theory on keeping the creativity (and spice) in your life going. Trying new things. Being in new places. Trying on new hair colors, clothing, shoes and anything else that makes you feel a wee bit better about yourself. Including being surrounded by surroundings you've never seen in your life. With that philosophy and the fact that I am a bit over-run with work, life, and all that jazz we've decided (as in the family unit) that it's time to go to some uncharted territory.

The rules were simple: some place within a day drive, close enough we wouldn't strangle the kids and yet kill ourselves in getting, and it had to have some 'attraction' we were willing to drop some cash in seeing. Not the Mystery Spot or say a sandy hill or anything like that, a cool attraction. So we're off. To St. Louis. And we're going to have fun damn it! (And to hell with work, I've put in for my vacation and there's not a damn thing they can do about it).

It will all be interesting. We have the GPS on hand, hotels we've never seen but in Internet pictures book--and a book deadline that lands right in the middle of the vacation (really. And I haven't even started that portion of the book yet. But it is on my lengthy to do list to prepare for leaving town.)

So with constant reminders to coworkers that I will INDEED be out of the office with NO access to email, cell phones or anything remotely work related, I'm starting the decent into the unknown. With a smile on my face and a must-do before road-trip list that includes things like-- writing a blog post, writing the next few chapters of the book, packing for everyone, cleaning cat liter boxes, prepping dog for stay at relatives... and so, so much more that is uniquely fascinating and boring at the same time. You'll either hear from me during or when it's over since the chance of a laptop making its way into the packing gear is at about a %200 chance. That laptop will be the personal one too... for the book deadline, for a blog post, for offloading a camera full of pictures, for the fun stuff (really, no day job I swear). So stay tuned. Fun times ahead. And I'll be documenting them. From a new perspective anyway. One that is about 400 miles away from this one.

Lost in the Trees

Mommy Writer - Bethany Hiitola — Mon, 17 Aug 2009 19:27:11 +0000

I'm losing my way.

Not literally, of course. Just metaphorically speaking. With impossible demands in my day job and a schedule that goes along with the ride, my life is nothing short of chaotic. A whirlwind of waking, feeding, cleansing, mothering, working, domesticating, and repeating over and over again-- I am forgetting what is important. Particularly what is important to me in the long run.

Of course this sudden retrospect couldn't come at a worse time. The Peanut is still clingy, summer work schedules are colliding (coverage at the office for vacations; getting ready for huge product launches), and I just had a performance evaluation at work. The latter went well. Really well considering we are working with less staff and supporting more. And therein lies over half my problems.

The Boss loves the work and wants more. Of course. That is his job too I suppose. I just want to find a balance with THAT work and what I really want to be doing (writing for myself). With the grandiose plans he's preparing for and the work I know that comes along with all that? Well, time for myself (and any projects that would fit in that time) is going to be nonexistent. Not that it really isn't that way now. But even more so. And, I'm not an idiot, I see it all coming at me without much I can do about it but watch it come crashing down.

And then try to find MY life in between all the pieces. Which is 10 times easier said than done when you have new school years starting, a husband that is marathon training, mouths to feed, and a house to clean.

But am afraid if I don't stand up now and acknowledge my dreams are slipping away... no one else will notice. Nor will they do a damn thing about it. But therein lies yet another problem. How does one set boundaries between work and family when well, those boundaries have already been crossed 100 times (calls after hours, working til wee hours of the morning, sick day calls, midnight deadlines...)? It's all very complicated because having 2 kids means my schedule needs to be flexible and when it is flexible then all those late night/early morning/when-I-really-don't-want-to-be-interrupted times get interrupted to accommodate.

I've made my peace with The Husband--well actually my new book contract did. I'm getting time on the weekends to work on The Book. But not without a lot of guilt from me. Some finagling. Some persuasion and a lot of hard work. Even though I had 10 days to get my shit together for that first deadline, it didn't happen because of schedules. Of camp, sitter, day job deadlines and my need for sleep. I mean, these days, I might have to give that up to get myself any bit of leeway. And it's a bit rough when I am already losing it thinking about everything else that needs to be done.

I think I'll start taking a look at MY life and the life I WANT to lead and see how I can bend the rules a bit in my favor for once. Like, take that extra half day off for work for the fun stuff. Not just a pedicure and massage (I wish!) but to write. Turn off cell phones, email, text messages, and TAKE the time for myself. And my dreams. The world won't fall apart will it? Because right now, if I don't take what's mine... well, I'm afraid 10 years from now I'll be running the same race. Just different surroundings.

Lost in the Trees

Mommy Writer - Bethany Hiitola — Fri, 07 Aug 2009 01:53:45 +0000

I’m losing my way. Not literally, of course. Just metaphorically speaking. With impossible demands in my day job and a schedule that goes along with the ride, my life is nothing short of chaotic. A whirlwind of waking, feeding, cleansing, mothering, working, domesticating, and repeating over and over again– I am forgetting what is important. [...]

THE 30-SECOND COMMUTE by Stephanie Dickison

Mommy Writer - Bethany Hiitola — Mon, 03 Aug 2009 23:59:58 +0000

I didn’t intend to write a book review today. Hell, The Husband just finished his first half marathon this past weekend and it was one of the most touching moments of my life when we finally were able to touch one another after the race that he pulled me to him, near weeping, and gave [...]

THE 30-SECOND COMMUTE by Stephanie Dickison

Mommy Writer - Bethany Hiitola — Mon, 03 Aug 2009 23:14:21 +0000

I didn't intend to write a book review today. Hell, The Husband just finished his first half marathon this past weekend and it was one of the most touching moments of my life when we finally were able to touch one another after the race that he pulled me to him, near weeping, and gave me this heart felt hug. All choked up, he was just thrilled that I'd pulled myself and the kids to see him at the 2-mile mark and then made our way through the crowds to the finish line. And WE cheered him on. And WE were there for him, for this big event.

It felt like it was just us standing there in Grant Park with the world swirling around us. I was so proud of him. Of us as a family unit. And my heart burst. But that's another post.... because, I'm compelled to tell you about this book.

Last week, I'd just finished a novel I was reading, wanted something quick, smooth, and easy reading. I was sick for God Sakes (yes, puking sick) and just wanted something easy to digest. Literally and figuratively. So, being sent THE 30-SECOND COMMUTE by Stephanie Dickison a while back (as in MONTHS AGO. In February. And I am just now getting to it).

Can I just say: I. LOVED. THIS. BOOK. It so took me by surprise. Not that I had any expectations except for the quick, smooth, easy thing (which it was). But I didn't expect to be inspired by it. I mean, really. I've read every 'How to Write a Book' Book out there. And even the ole WRITING DOWN THE BONES by Natalie Goldberg (it's an oldie but goodie). But this one, had me wanting to read a chapter, open my laptop and push through all those negative thoughts and keep working on my current work in progress. So some day soon, I could join Stephanie as a writer working for myself.

30-SECOND COMMUTE is not all about writing exercises, routines, finding work as a writer, or how you too can make a living as a freelance writer. Nope. It's a memoir. Just a book about being a writer. And it's ENTERTAINING. Seriously. Stephanie had me laughing out loud. Giggling in the midst of my sickness. And just all about shaking my head in agreement. But the best part about the book really is Stephanie's voice. Somewhere deep in the prose she says that she just wanted to write things that people read. And write them in the way she speaks. And girl... you do. Hell, if you didn't live in Canada and me here in Southeastern Wisconsin, I'd come find you for coffee.

She's fun. Hilarious. Honest. And it feels like she's sitting right next to you talking about life. The best parts about being a writer and how she handles work (she's a Type A like me, so it is heartening to know I am not the only one that will hunch over the keyboard for hours at a time), gets caught up in finding the next project, and well just about everything in between. I literally tore through the book in one night, then opened my laptop and started pounding out my own prose. I mean, the one thing Stephanie was clear about, is you have to write to WRITE. And for whatever reason--her voice, her experiences, her honesty, had me wanting to be just like her.

So, if you're a writer--non-fiction or fiction, pick this book up. It's an open door to the writers world. And it's gloriously honest and funny. It's totally for those days when I don't want to haul my large ass to the desk to write myself. I can pick it up, give any one chapter a quick read and remember why I want to write... thanks Stephanie! You, my girl, ROCK.

Stolen Goods

Mommy Writer - Bethany Hiitola — Sat, 01 Aug 2009 04:46:23 +0000

My son attends an awesome “day” camp during the summers. They do a ton of sport-like activities, water play, crafts, and field trips that really–we don’t have time to do as a 2-parent working family. Not only does it provide the “day care” during my work week, it lets The Kiddo be a kid, play, [...]

Stolen Goods

Mommy Writer - Bethany Hiitola — Sat, 01 Aug 2009 04:05:00 +0000

My son attends an awesome “day” camp during the summers. They do a ton of sport-like activities, water play, crafts, and field trips that really--we don’t have time to do as a 2-parent working family. Not only does it provide the “day care” during my work week, it lets The Kiddo be a kid, play, and have a ton of fun and meet new friends every year.

But there’s been a problem this year. He’s found that some of his items have been stolen OUT of his camp bag before he heads home. It’s the small things--the toy light up sword thing that he won after a day at an arcade and traded in all of his tickets. Or the trading card he also won at a carnival/fair. Or just the item he made that day to bring him with Popsicle sticks, glue, and colored paper.

Now, you can tell me that is life and it is likely happening to all the other kids too (it is). But is it too much for me to ask for the camp organizers to, um, say something? I mean, they do this great group thing every morning where the kids are screaming answers, guessing the day’s activities, singing Kumbuya (not really, but it sounded good). Couldn’t they just, maybe, let the kids know that stealing really isn’t a nice thing. And maybe to STOP.

Every year this has been an issue to a degree. But this year a bit more than others. I can’t help but think--and my son has said as much--that he thinks one of his “friends” is taking the items. Not much of a friend is it? And how crushing for him. Yesterday it was this glowing gun thing and he was absolutely crushed. Tears. Sobbing. And almost a self-induced asthma attack.

Did he over react? Maybe a bit, but I can’t help but feel sorry for the kid, he’s had a rough few days and this was the final straw for him this week. HIS STUFF IS GETTING STOLEN. And it seems he’s the only kid within that group that has this issue.

So who do I talk to? His group leader (he “reports” what is stolen each and every time right after he knows it is gone)? The camp organizers (again, we tell them each time)? Or do I just let my over-controlling mother attitude go? I mean, I do realize that the world is not fair or nice, but when can we as parents start to take a little action here? I don’t want to run there right when he returns to the main gate for pick up… he gets more play time for soccer and basketball if he stays that extra hour.

UPDATE: My son, bless is sweet heart confronted his little group. Yup. The kid stood his ground and asked his buddies, if anyone accidentally took his toy home. Surprisingly a kid admitted to "borrowing" it for a few days. And with that, he's supposed to bring it back by next week. For that kid's sake, I hope he does. My son might just beat him up if he doesn't. It took all his courage to speak up. Good Job Kiddo! May the force continue to be with you...

Weighing Chocolate

Mommy Writer - Bethany Hiitola — Thu, 30 Jul 2009 11:03:00 +0000

Weighing Chocolate

Mommy Writer - Bethany Hiitola — Thu, 30 Jul 2009 11:03:00 +0000

I think I would give my left arm for chocolate. Or sweets. Or a nice large coffee. And thus the issue of my weight problems. That and eating when I am stressed. Since I am always stressed, there is always a reason to eat. And not once have I found a more healthy way to deal with relieving stress.

Don’t give me the workout line. Trust me, I know a dose of running, exercise, anything physical would do be a lot of good in the ways of the stress free as well as just in general--but you tell me when to find the time. At 5am you say? Sure, right after I just awoke at 4 with The Peanut. And my time to write. Or say shower. Really. It’s next to impossible to find the time to eat on most days, so exercise is a bit lower on that priority list for the time being.

But let’s get back to the main topic at hand. My weight. My stress. And My craving for chocolate. How does one deal with the balance of these? The weight and stress are the larger issues… and I could go on and on with plans on bow to deal with this, but really none are too practical. And right now, practical stability is the key. So I have to deal with what I can control--the chocolate thing.

30 Minutes of Life

Mommy Writer - Bethany Hiitola — Tue, 28 Jul 2009 11:54:00 +0000

30 Minutes of Life

Mommy Writer - Bethany Hiitola — Tue, 28 Jul 2009 11:54:00 +0000

Sometimes I just need to get away. But when you want to get away from work AND from home, well, that’s another story. And right now, that is sorta what I want to do. At least for an hour or so. I just need time to decompress. You know, get home, kick up my feet, take a few deep breaths and then get on with living? Yes, that kinda time. But, as my days have been going, I’m not even getting that. Or close to that really. I’m getting- leave work, rush to get Kid 1, then rush to get Kid 2 so I am not slapped with a late fee, then get home, then cook dinner 1 for kids and myself, clean that up to cook dinner 2 for The Husband who comes home late and then bedtime. Or clean up from Dinner 2, just depends on timing. And whether The Husband goes out for a run.

Let me ask you, is this any way to live? Can I not find time to get 10 minutes of down time?

So, since I’m in dream world, if I had 30 minutes when I came home from work to be responsibility free-- meaning no kids, no animals, no husbands, and no dishes or laundry waiting to be washed (or a house to pick up), I’d spend that time doing any one (or all) of the following:

- lying on the couch staring at the ceiling. Deep breaths are optional.
- call a girlfriend and have a chat. A good, heart warming chat about our lives and what they have become
- write a blog post
- have a glass of wine
- run
- soak in a bath
- go to the restroom unfollowed or interrupted
- make and enjoy a coffee in its completeness
- watch an episode of Eli Stone (have the entire first season on DVD and have yet to even see more than 7 minutes of it
- write more of a novel that is hopefully in progress
- surf the web
- dream
- sing
- dance

And how about just generally relax? Seriously. That half hour might give me a small bit of my pre-kid life back. Except there would be a lot less giggles, screaming, and of course, “Mommas.” And that I just couldn’t have. I just want 30 minutes of the old life.

When Amazing Happens

Mommy Writer - Bethany Hiitola — Sat, 25 Jul 2009 16:10:00 +0000

This past week came with amazing news. Some, I’m still a bit baffled and in a tizzy about, but still happy news nonetheless. First, remember this writing piece I was attempting with all my might to complete by the contest deadline? Yes, that one! I wrote the piece (eventually) in a few hours and just [...]

When Amazing Happens

Mommy Writer - Bethany Hiitola — Sat, 25 Jul 2009 16:10:00 +0000

This past week came with amazing news. Some, I'm still a bit baffled and in a tizzy about, but still happy news nonetheless.

First, remember this writing piece I was attempting with all my might to complete by the contest deadline? Yes, that one! I wrote the piece (eventually) in a few hours and just barely squeaked in the entry by midnight the day of the deadline. And guess what? I won! Yes, the stars and moons aligned--and let my daughter sleep long enough for me to complete 500 words of coherent prose to give me a win. Or at least a piece that didn't embarrass me. So, if you feel inclined, take a gander at the winning piece here. And while you are there, check out the rest of the Chicago Writers Association. They rock. And run cool contests.

Now on to the next service...err, writing announcement. I got a book deal.

All right, all right. Calm down. This isn't for fiction. And it isn't for any of the books I have sitting on any hard drives in this place. It's for a technical book. One about software. And on a topic that is sorta fun, but also very work-like. So, although it is a book deal, it is an awful lot like my day job. Only it is a bit of extra cash. And I can determine my own deadlines. And I am my own boss. But still--very much like my day job. And that is why I am not jumping up and down and screaming and drinking champagne by the bottle. Nope, instead, I am looking at the legal contract, trying to figure out when the book will hit the shelves and laughing that someone might buy the thing.

But a book deal is a book deal. And after writing user manuals--some very technical and others not-so-much--for over 10 years, it's nice to be able to do one officially outside of my career aspirations for once. So, I am a little ity bit happy. Come find me after December 1, when the book is complete and I'll be even happier.

Long(ish) story behind this book deal. A fun one too. But I'm saving it for another blog post. Stay tuned. Maybe next week. It's just that much fun, I have to savor it a bit longer before sharing. Let's just say social media was involved. And all the naysayers about that will get a good laugh. But, I'll have a book (eventually) to walk away with the story. Stay tuned.

Now, if I remember the saying correctly... good things come in threes right. I'm waiting on the third to show up. Because I'm a half glass full type of gal, hoping it's a Thank You Jesus kinda good thing too. It will make things seem even brighter than they already are.

Happy Day

Mommy Writer - Bethany Hiitola — Sat, 25 Jul 2009 03:49:27 +0000

In the past week or so (It’s been a while since I’ve been able to post), we’ve celebrated a birthday–my husbands to be exact. See, summer is our major birthday time– in July there are a whole slew of cousin-in-laws that celebrate plenty for the whole crew (including The Husband), then in August there’s yours [...]

Happy Day

Mommy Writer - Bethany Hiitola — Sat, 25 Jul 2009 03:49:27 +0000

In the past week or so (It’s been a while since I’ve been able to post), we’ve celebrated a birthday--my husbands to be exact. See, summer is our major birthday time-- in July there are a whole slew of cousin-in-laws that celebrate plenty for the whole crew (including The Husband), then in August there’s yours truly that adds a year, The Peanut has her new birthday goodness and then some dear friends and family again that enjoy some yearly goodness. And it all leads to a lot of BBQs, cake, ice cream and a chorus of the traditional Happy Birthday To You.

It’s fun. Particularly when you add in the young ones. They sing, dance, blow out candles and have sugar highs that are above anything else that you have ever seen (imagine midnight and the children still running around the yard and through a sprinkler). But it’s summer and I don’t mind.

Already this summer we’ve had 3 of these events. And the last, was The Husband’s. Which, this year, was just an ice cream cake and some singing at home. But a week later, I am still hearing the loveliness called my daughter.

“Happy Day!” Jump, jump, jump. “Happy, Happy Day!” she screams from around the living room.

At first we all thought she was just having… well, a HAPPY DAY. But she shook her head no at our inquiries. Until, the Husband, the smart one of the bunch, watched her dance her Robee doll around the room singing more “Happy Day! Happy Day!” and asked, “Are you singing Happy Birthday?”

Her wide smile was the answer and she stomped a few more times around the ottoman and started in on the chorus again, “Happy Day. Happy, happy day!”

Right then and there, I knew my daughter was sent here from some higher power. How can you not LOVE a chorus of Happy Days for the next month? Seriously. I need a reminder daily to have a Happy Day. Whether it is a birthday or not. And especially when I grow a year older.

Conversation with an almost 2 year old

Mommy Writer - Bethany Hiitola — Sat, 18 Jul 2009 16:22:20 +0000

“Yuuuu tire? Yuuuu tire?” Blank stare into my daughter’s very questioning eyes. “You tire?” “Am I tired?” Affirmative shake of the head. “Yes, I am honey. Are you?” “Go Nie, nie. Pleeeeze,” and she runs to the bedroom. Who am I to argue? Read the original post on Mommy Writer

Conversation with an almost 2 year old

Mommy Writer - Bethany Hiitola — Sat, 18 Jul 2009 16:22:20 +0000

"Yuuuu tire? Yuuuu tire?"

Blank stare into my daughter's very questioning eyes.

"You tire?"

"Am I tired?"

Affirmative shake of the head.

"Yes, I am honey. Are you?"

"Go Nie, nie. Pleeeeze," and she runs to the bedroom.

Who am I to argue?

Has Left the Building

Mommy Writer - Bethany Hiitola — Sat, 11 Jul 2009 21:16:24 +0000

Has Left the Building

Mommy Writer - Bethany Hiitola — Sat, 11 Jul 2009 21:16:24 +0000

Okay, not really. But it does seem it has been a long while since I’ve been in blog land huh? Tis life. I’m sick of apologizing for it. My life is a bit of chaos with the kids and summer and camps and vacations and a whole bunch of day job stuff that just will never end. So, I write when I can. And I have to prioritize what I write and when. Right now, the blog is last on the list (sorry folks). I need to actually write another novel before I decide not to. So, that is what I am doing. And mothering and working and cleaning and laundry. And well, you know what I mean.

But hey, how’s this Chicago weather--aside from sticky, wet, humid, and EXTREMELY hot? Ugh. It has my make up melting off my face before I leave my garage and my hair flat and greasy even before I get out of my bathroom. But I’m trying to look spectacular. Really I am. Drinking more water, giving up greasy hamburgers sometimes, and trying to eat regularly near the same time every day (at the day job this is difficult as people keep scheduling meetings during a normal lunch hour). So, hey, I’m trying. I won’t be in bikini shape by the end of summer (hell, it’s about half over). But at least I will e in better shape. Right?

And for even more un-connected thoughts for the day--can someone tell me how to get my almost-2-year-old daughter to not hang on my leg constantly? I’d love any advice on this matter. It is almost causing me to want to leave for an extended vacation more than my day job. Almost. See, she’s cuter, funnier, and can make me melt by just blowing me a kiss and saying, “Momma. Miss you.” So, she’ll always win. But I still need a way to gain some sanity back in the evenings. Chanting, “This too shall pass,” isn’t pacifying my sanity any longer.

Now I am off to enjoy the rest of my challenging day of chasing down people and sitting in meetings. And, maybe my novel.

Where in the world?

Mommy Writer - Bethany Hiitola — Sun, 28 Jun 2009 04:13:36 +0000

Where in the world?

Mommy Writer - Bethany Hiitola — Sun, 28 Jun 2009 04:13:36 +0000

Somewhere in my life right now, I am desperately trying to fit in writing. Not work writing crap, real writing. The stuff that makes me tingle and sweat and keeps me up at night because I can't get the ideas to stop. That writing.

Between caring and keeping my family sane, my day job, drinking more water, eating less red meat, cleaning, laundry, dishes, picking up toys again and again and again--as well as showering and all that cleansing stuff--there isn't but a whole 5 minutes left. Even when I use my grand plans of using 10 minutes of down time wisely (nice thought, but when barely have time to go to the bathroom, you take the necessity over the nicety).

So here I finally sit at close to midnight, just NOW getting a free moment--staring at a cursor. And a blog that hasn't been updated in about 20 days. And a master bedroom that is overflowing with laundry. A sink full of dishes and toys piling at my feet.

It's amazing. My muse sometimes will flutter around in my head when I am the busiest of busiest. Whispering sweet story ideas, plots, and characters into my left ear. And it floats around in my head until I can find any moment to get it down onto paper (virtual or not). But lately? The must has run off for greener pastures. My life seems to full for her and she's a bit pissed off. The better part of myself agrees and is ready to do the same. Especially when a reprieve is nothing more than a pipe dream at the moment.

But, I've decided to hell with it all. I submitted non-fiction work to a publisher. And I'm even going to bust my ass to submit a small piece to a local contest. If I get picked up by a publisher my life will turn into even more chaos and I'll scold myself continuously, but damn. Kill me or not, I can't let this dream die. My soul might just go with it. So, I'm off to write. Even if for a an hour tonight. Or 10 minutes tomorrow. I'm entering the damn contest too. Because it's my dream, and I'm the only one that can make it happen.

I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you…

Mommy Writer - Bethany Hiitola — Mon, 08 Jun 2009 04:02:55 +0000

I haven’t been able to hear out of my right ear since last Wednesday. On a practical level, yes–a doctor has been visited (ear pain on Friday insisted I do the trek to the medical office), antibiotics prescribed and taken regularly, and resting has been taking place. But on a more emotional stance, it’s just [...]

I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you…

Mommy Writer - Bethany Hiitola — Mon, 08 Jun 2009 04:02:55 +0000

I haven't been able to hear out of my right ear since last Wednesday. On a practical level, yes--a doctor has been visited (ear pain on Friday insisted I do the trek to the medical office), antibiotics prescribed and taken regularly, and resting has been taking place. But on a more emotional stance, it's just odd trying to decipher muffled conversations, turning my head to hear important ones, and to just be all out, not really together when I'm trying to have conversations with just about everyone. And after 5 days, it's becoming a bit of an annoyance.

I can't seem to even think straight--even my conscience keeps chirping, "I still can't hear out of my right ear!" And believe me when I tell you, tomorrow will be more than interesting. Trying to decipher Corporate lingo during a morning full of meetings with less than stellar ear canals could be blessing in disguise. Or the worst day of my life if I get caught up in a bunch of follow up items. Not to mention conference calls. It's my phone ear. And even in the last 5 days I still haven't adjusted to placing a phone on my left ear.

So, I expect a day full of, "What?", "Sorry, could you repeat that..." and "Huh?!?!" and then a few eye rolls from those that know me (and don't). Sure it might be easier to explain the whole ear infection thing, but then I'd be backed away from like the plague. It's called germs, viruses, and sickness. My house has been swimming with it, not like I need to pass it around.

Ideas, they always seem better in my head

Mommy Writer - Bethany Hiitola — Sat, 06 Jun 2009 16:08:00 +0000

Ideas, they always seem better in my head

Mommy Writer - Bethany Hiitola — Sat, 06 Jun 2009 16:08:00 +0000

As I lie in bed last night waiting for my daughter to fall into blissful sleep, I came upon a new book idea. I love those. In fact, I might go out on a limb and say I LIVE for those moments. The story idea, the characters, the plot lines all seem so clear. So exciting. Something akin to magical. The entire story makes sense in all the right places and so easy to just sit down and write. Well, when I get up and write them.

That is, until when I actually do sit down to type/write/stutter out the fragments of the idea into something more official. Whether that be in an electronic document, piece of paper or just verbalizing it to my husband. Then… it all gets ruined. The idea suddenly becomes real and I find holes in the plot that seemed so flawless only moments before. The characters, superficial. And well the idea, just not quite where it needs to be. And, yet, I still take the time to continue writing it all down. Every piece of inspiration. Just in case I need an idea to grow into something more.

Though the doubts that start when I start writing? Never go away. In fact, I think more and more of them creep up the more I write the story. I’m convinced it has to do with the fact that I am *actually* writing and progressing and doing what I want to do. The little old thing called FEAR has weird ways of trying to ruin your plans. And right now, I’m just going to blame him for how I feel about that idea. Because the other part of my brain--the better half--still likes it. And thinks with a bit more tweaking (and letting go), the great parts of it just might come out and play. If I let it. And right now, I have nothing else to lose. Except, the excitement that is all in my head.

Mr. & Mrs.

Mommy Writer - Bethany Hiitola — Fri, 05 Jun 2009 11:07:00 +0000

Mr. & Mrs.

Mommy Writer - Bethany Hiitola — Fri, 05 Jun 2009 11:07:00 +0000

I think my wedding day might have been the last time someone called me Mrs. Hiitola. Except maybe the damn telemarketers. And then I became The Kiddo’s Mom. You know at those play date or kid functions and they need a way to refer to the various parents sitting around. I’ve grown used to that one, far more than my own name these days as my kid schedule has suddenly quadrupled with activity. But Mrs. Hiitola? Not so much. Mostly because it just seems so old-fashioned.

Well, seems I might have to get used to it again. At least when I get notes home from school for my son. Those teachers are all about formality. And Mrs. Hiitola I have become. My husband the Mister. And we stare at each other a bit dumbfounded with each letter about how we became the Mr. and Mrs. It seems so sudden. And makes me feel like I’ve aged a good 20 years. Granted, I have. But let’s not even go there.

Call Me Paranoid

Mommy Writer - Bethany Hiitola — Thu, 04 Jun 2009 23:06:00 +0000

Call Me Paranoid

Mommy Writer - Bethany Hiitola — Thu, 04 Jun 2009 23:06:00 +0000

My son found his way back into a hospital stay a few weeks ago due to a ferocious cold that just found its way into his chest and caused him to have some sort of bronchitis that almost looked like pneumonia. No matter what it was called, he was coughing, having a hard time breathing, and all over an asthmatic kid having a really (really) hard time. Within a matter of 6 hours he was playing outside with “a bit of a cold” to being put on oxygen so that he could maintain a relatively safe level of oxygen in his blood.

Scary doesn’t even begin to explain how it felt. Not to mention like I was a complete failure as a mother. How could I have *not* known at Noon that day that he was not going to be able to talk to me later that night because his chest was so tight? Why did I wait so long to bring him to the ER? Why didn’t I just know?

I didn’t. And then I felt like a bigger idiot when the ER nurse scolded me for not calling an ambulance to bring my son in. Aside from the fact we live under 10 minutes away and by the time I called them, he was already being wheel-chaired into a space to be checked. But, again, let’s put that all aside. He survived after a few blood draws, an IV of antibiotics (due to the though of pneumonia), vomiting due to the abuteral treatments, and some more IV for the Orapred to get him breathing right again. The oxygen mask, an overnight stay in the hospital, and some Popsicles and ice cream at his every call (the nurses loved him) and we were back home. Still giving frequent breathing treatments but home and making strides for the better.

Until this weekend when we headed to a family wedding. Suffice to say, the cough came back, so did strained breathing, and so did my paranoia. Maybe it was the residing lecture of the ER nurse, a mother’s (my) intuition to get him home as soon as possible to rest, or just the fact that I, too, found myself with a nasty virus that had me pilfering numerous tissue boxes most of the weekend that drove me to just throw in the towel and head home right after the ceremony.

My son didn’t like the decision--he’d been holding in coughs all morning long in hopes of making the stay as long as possible. The grandparents weren’t happy--we were taking away their grand kids with barely a 24 hour stay. And hell, I wasn’t thrilled to be traveling back 7 hours or so when we only just arrived. But that cough. That pale face. Those pleading eyes. Yes, I thought at dinner on the trip home we might not actually make it home and an ER trip was back in our horizon. And then there was that moment at the gas station when he was coughing so hard he thought he might vomit. Or the coughing fit just before he drifted into a fit-ridden sleep only an hour from home.

Well, it makes you realize that you really are a mom. One that, even though, pretty sick herself, was more worried about her son. Paranoia be damned. Or talks of leaving a wedding party early. It was all about her son. His health. And well, the fact that (thankfully) we didn’t visit any emergency rooms on the entire 7 ½ hour ride home. Or this entire week. All thanks to that little voice in her head that said, “Just get him home to rest.”

Sure it took more breathing treatments, abuteral, cough drops, Kleenex, suckers, and Popsicles than maybe necessary. But we made it no worse for the wear. And next time, I just might have to keep him in a bubble for a while longer.

WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE? by Alyse Myers

Mommy Writer - Bethany Hiitola — Tue, 02 Jun 2009 22:26:30 +0000

Today, I should have been working. Yup. Should have been a normal (busier than humanly possible) 9-to-5 work day full of conference calls, meetings, deadlines, and emails. But I called in sick. The Cold That Just Won't Go Away was still here, and I just needed another day to decompress (have been out of the office since Friday for wedding fun and travel). So instead I sat down with a book or two. And what found it's way into my hands today, but Alyse Myers' Who Do You Think You Are?

It's a lovely memoir about mothers and daughters, relationships, growing up and everything in between. And my in between, I mean all the complications of having a mother.

We all have them but sometimes--especially when we are say 15 and think we own the world--you just don't get along. In my case, the "not getting along" was because I was a teenager, naive and really, just was ready to go out on my own into the world. It's all normal. And hormonal and all that stuff. And even today, mom and I--don't always see eye-to-eye and that's what a so-called normal relationship is all about. But after having a daughter of my own, well I understand even more how hard it is to mother... and that is a whole new perspective (and let me tell you, there are more days than one I wonder if I am going to screw her up too. We women, so emotional on both sides--mother OR daughter).

And this is what this book is all about--Alyse growing up, dealing with death, dealing with siblings, dealing with her mother. But she had other variables in her life to overcome than I. Mine were just high school, boys, and life with a curfew. Her home live was not the best circumstances--not so much money, life with parents that loved each other but only knew how to fight, a bit of drugs, infidelity. But through it all, she loved both her parents dearly. Tenderly. And always did what she thought was best. Even in tough times.

The book is honest in ways that let you really see what it was like growing up for Alyse. And then how she is looking back now and understanding it all. You feel her hurt, pain, and all the in-between of what it was like growing up with her mom. And her dad. And her 2 younger sisters. How she wanted and strived for more. And then realized, well, that her mom was doing all she could. Flawed and all.

It's well written. Poetic. And a true testament to the love she felt for her mom. Bittersweet in ways that it brings Alyse and her own daughter together in ways she likely never imagined (but desired nonetheless). Great book for mothers day or just a read on a lazy weekend afternoon (or say an extra day off of work). As it gives one a sense of hope and love.

Netbookin’ It

Mommy Writer - Bethany Hiitola — Thu, 28 May 2009 23:50:00 +0000

I finally broke down and purchased a netbook last week. And by finally I mean, it’s been about a year in which I have walked passed those sweet little machines on the shelf, oohing and aahing about how fabulous it would be to carry this small little pouch with me so I could write on a computer ANY time (writing long-hand was my alternative. And as old school and fun as it can sound, finding the time to THEN transfer to a computer… well in my world just takes to damn long) So, I bought one. And after a week of hell (2 kids with pneumonia, one hospitalized for about 24 hours), I am finally using somewhere other than my kitchen table to check my email.

HP Mini won out the competition for one reason only--keyboard. I can type on the thing without completely re-adjusting my typing style. Really, I spent hours typing on all the various machines trying to get the feel for the keyboard, what it would be like typing on the thing, if the keyboard was noisy, and… well a myriad of other things one does as a writer when testing a keyboard. And the HP mini won hands down. Mostly because there were no spaces between the damn keys. And secondly, have you seen the nice swirly design on the outside? It’s fun. And it felt so me. Thus, happy netbook owner is in your midst.

Now if the kids stay healthy, and sleeping on their own at night without a bit of prodding, a work schedule that gives me a 15 minute break here and there--you just might see more writing from me right here on this blog. Or in an even BETTER place, more fiction writing from me. That’s right, have some more freebies (finally) that I plan to post on the site. Mostly so I keep writing, and secondly, to see if I can get some followers of my writing. It always helps when trying to get the publishing Gods to notice you.

So, off to type happily away on my little netbook and hopefully produce a story worth posting on the site. And if you are a writer and looking for the perfect writing any-time pal that is fun and stylish and just well… useful. Try one out. Don’t expect your full computer (it’s not), think of it as the portable writing version, and you’ll love it. I’m just dying to use it for more than 15 minutes…

Weighty Topic

Mommy Writer - Bethany Hiitola — Wed, 27 May 2009 11:41:00 +0000

My husband is training for a marathon. I sit on the couch and try to simultaneously watch the kids, read, and possibly take in some television (like my weird obsession lately with America’s Top Model). Yes, I’m the lazy ass in the family. But who the hell is going to watch the 6-year and 20-month old? It’s not like I can have The Peanut run along beside me. Then again, at the pace I’d run a mile, she might have a leg up on me since she’s got more energy in an hour than I might have in an entire day.

But this brings up a good point. When I was all over the Weight Watcher thing (pre-kid), I’d lost over 60 lbs. I was eating healthy, exercising a bit and having a good ole time at looking good. Husband at the decent food, but didn’t start a running kick. In fact, I think he had a good time drinking a ton of beer and laughing at my beer-to-water ratio I deemed upon myself so I wouldn’t add too many calories to my daily intake.

Then--time passed, I dropped the diet, had a kid, found employment that was inevitably more stressful, moved a few times, had another kid… deaths in the family… and well, here we are. My husband the new healthy one and me not so much. I’m doing nothing but scolding myself for what I SHOULD be doing to get myself in a better state (about 50 lbs lighter). I think about exercise, about how I should be doing it, and I cook meals that are healthier--and eat them, but yet, here I am. Still sitting on the couch, taking the kids for a short walk here and there, but still feeling crummy.

I’ve taken baby steps at drinking more water and adding more exercise, but overall, the motivation isn’t there. And I am not sure what I can do to GET that motivation to just keep going.

Believe me when I tell you, once I got over the initial hump of eating healthy, it got easier. Much easier. And I felt great. In fact in a month, my clothes were feeling looser. I was able to drop a jean size or two in a matter of a few months. And those compliments thrown my way? Genius! So, I know what’s possible. I know what I can do and what’s possible. But…

Yes, but… I have nothing else to say. Am I not ready? Is it just that it is easier not to think about it?

If I really think about it, I am just exhausted. I am trying schedule everything, get the kids where they need to be every day, tracking homework, diaper needs, reading schedules, soccer games, snacks, dinners, housekeeping, work meetings, deadlines, bed times, bathing needs, and all things that all of us has to do. But to track calories? Points? Minutes I have worked out (miles run)? It’s just another damn thing to track and I am sick of it all. I’ve scheduled out. Completely. And dieting in any form (even if it just means eating healthier) means I have to track yet another thing to get my day moving correctly and I just don’t think I have it in me. At least today. So bear with me while I haul the extra 50lbs around for another few months. Maybe by then I’ll realize the lost weight just might give me the extra kick I need.

Hospital Conversation*

Mommy Writer - Bethany Hiitola — Tue, 26 May 2009 23:40:36 +0000

“Mom?”

“Yes honey?”

“Thanks for bringing me here.”

“You’re welcome buddy. Just get well.”

“I will.”

* The Kiddo was admitted to the hospital last Monday. For his asthma. The asthma that comes on with almost every cold. Only this time, it seemed pretty bad. Oxygen. IVs. And this feeling of being such and awful mom. And this conversation? Well, it broke my heart in more ways than one.

Cleaning Room Drama

Mommy Writer - Bethany Hiitola — Wed, 20 May 2009 21:18:48 +0000

"Keep cleaning? That means I'd clean my room all up!"

Of course Kiddo, that's the idea.

Worry Wart Challenge (Double-Daring Book for Girls Shower)

Mommy Writer - Bethany Hiitola — Thu, 14 May 2009 22:13:24 +0000

All right ladies and gents, it's time for a challenge. A goodness challenge.

Andy Buchanan and Miriam Peskowitz have written a lovely new book--THE DOUBLE-DARING BOOK FOR GIRLS--which is a follow up to the first book (which I reviewed here). It's a wonderful book full of information, games, tricks, and loads of things about being a girl. A daring girl to be exact. You can learn a ton of card games, how to win at Scrabble, how to catch a fish, run away and join the circus... but well, buy the book to figure all that stuff out. I'm here for a throw down!

And all of us share a friend named Melissa. And she is throwing them a book shower. What's that you ask? Well who really knows--because can't it be anything we want? Sure can. So we decided to challenge our readers to one of the goodness items in the book. I picked the item on page 167--Worry Dolls.

Ahh, the land of worry. I never thought of myself as a worry wart. But maybe that was because all I ever really wanted was to be fancy foot and carefree. I'm an eldest child, NEVER GOING TO HAPPEN. And then I became a parent which forever takes away the carefree days of anything. Thus, why I picked this Worry Doll Challenge.

What is a worry doll? From my friends at Wikipedia they are (and of course all this info is in the book too):

Worry dolls (Spanish: Muñecas quitapenas, "Dolls [that] remove worries"), or trouble dolls, are very small and colorful dolls traditionally made in Guatemala. A person (usually a child) who cannot sleep due to worrying can express their worries to a doll and place it under their pillow before going to sleep.

According to folklore, the doll is thought to worry in the person's place, thereby permitting the person to sleep peacefully. The person will wake up without their worries, which have been taken away by the dolls during the night. Parents may remove the doll during the night, reinforcing the child's belief that the worry is gone...

Now, I know, I know it is all around children above, but I don't give a damn about that. Because reality is, I lose many hours of sleep due to worry and I know many other ADULTS that do too, so here's the details, my dear readers:

I challenge you to choose 6 of your favorite friends or family, and cut them a little slack--make them a Worry Doll so they can shed those worries good-bye. Normally with the folklore thing, you make them in groups of 6--but I've made it easy. Make 6, give 6. And you should be golden. I figure if you spread the worry-less karma around, maybe you (the giver) will also reap benefits.

My dolls are going out by the end of the month--so friends and family members--START watching for them! Now it's your turn--weigh in, tell me who you sent your worry dolls to and why, or beat my score and tell me how many dolls you made, who you sent to, why, and well join in the challenge.

p.s. I really want you to buy the book and all the cool stuff it tells you what to do (it is great if you have a son or daughter, I mean--hello--EVERYONE want to learn how to make a lava lamp right?), but I also want you to make Worry Dolls for friends and family and join the challenge. So, here's some online instructions on how to make them. You know, so you can join in. Let's see if we get the most participants!

The Wedgie That Binds

Mommy Writer - Bethany Hiitola — Sat, 09 May 2009 22:07:39 +0000

The hard part about turning over a new leaf, is the actualness of it all, the finality of giving up/trying/COMMITTING to this new endeavor. And it's where I am uncomfortably sitting right now.

I'm going to give up soda. The sugar, the calories, the fact that I obsess over drinking it to keep me awake/happy/someone immune to the craziness called my day job is true to the old adage, I've become dependent on it. And I've probably gained a good 20 pounds in my dependency. So, out it goes. I figure, if I can tackle that hurdle first, then I'll give up my morning espresso drink. But, hey, one step at a time. And they will indeed be baby steps.

For me, these first few steps are not only critical, they are the hardest to take. More than 6 years back I lost somewhere around 60 pounds. The last 30 where quite easy actually--the first? Not so much. I think I cried away the first 10. Seeing the foods I wanted desperately to eat, the drinks, the very fact that I could only have my white mochas one day a week? It nearly killed me. But therein lies the small solution--give yourself what you want (for me it might be a soda here and there, or that damn white mocha). But just not EVERY meal. Even though a burger and fries are easy and quick when I am rushing through my day, it should be an every day solution.

Thus, my start at healthier eating without going crazy about it. First step. Soda.

BOOK REVIEW: He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not by Trish Ryan

Mommy Writer - Bethany Hiitola — Thu, 07 May 2009 15:02:45 +0000

First let me say, I've had Trish Ryan's HE LOVES ME, HE LOVES ME NOT on my bedside to be read table forever (the hardcover version actually). It's been there for about a year. And I'm feeling pretty crummy about it. Sorry Trish! Especially since I had personally asked Trish to read and review the book. Sigh. Personal Failure Alert.

Anyway, let me get into the reasons why I wanted to review the book--and then why, now ready to write something about it, was having a bit of trouble. Don't let that statement trick you, the book is well written and entertaining. Trish, being that is a memoir, was honest and truthful and so sweet I just kept reading even though--the idea of being born again Christian was tripping me up--I kept reading. And reading until the very end. So let me start at the beginning.

I'm not very spiritual. In fact, church is only something I attend for weddings, funerals, baptisms, christenings, maybe a holiday here and there, but really for nothing else. Am I anti-religion? Not really. In fact, I believe in some sort of higher being. And honestly, that's been enough for me for years.

Long story of my childhood in short is: we didn't go to church much then either. My father went all the time as a child and even went to a Catholic school through is younger years. And from that, he decided, we wouldn't need to. And hey, Sunday mornings were never more fun for us! We didn't have to get up early and attend anything in dress up clothes! My Mom was okay with that too--but did spend some time teaching us the Bible basics. Basically the who's who of the important characters, brought us to holiday festivities at the local church, and let us tag along with Grandma and Grandpa when they attended every Saturday night. It was an easy existence, really. And one I never questioned. Even when all the other kids in the neighborhood went off to church and something called Sunday School (sounded brutal to me).

Fast forward a good 20-some years and here we are today. That sort of upbringing didn't haunt me, didn't allow me to make too many bad choices, and I am living a pretty normal life if I say so myself. I've thought about religion. I've had friends and dates and all that stuff with people that were highly spiritual to those that could have given a shit less.

What does all of this have to do with the book? Well, it's about becoming "one with Jesus." For Trish anyway. And as much as the book is about her, she sorta challenges us (the reader) that maybe it might be right for us. Which for me, really not so much. And as much as I loved the beginning of the book, found myself skimming later chapters that were going on and on about how praying with her boyfriend was just the most wonderful thing ever. Because for me, that just went over the top. For. Me.

I wanted to read the book since we shared an agent, she was a first time author, and I've seen her in some writing circles. Overall, it was a writer to writer thing--and having shared personal details of my life here on this blog (and in a possible book someday), I wanted to see how it was done. WITH a touchy subject for some.

So, in a nut shell, here's the skinny: beginning of the book was SO RELATABLE, so real and so fun I just kept reading. Cheering Trish on to find love and happiness, and crying with her when she shares the not-so-good relationships she had. It was an honest look and life, love, and her search for spirituality. She brought us along for the ride she had looking into fueng shui, alternative/new age healing, astrology... and well everything in between. I'd compare it to a cliff-note trip of my own--peaking into all those communities without having to try it for myself. And in fact, we do the same with her love life (the book does have another plot. The husband angle. She's looking for one, wants one desperately, etc). We glimpse in, take part, and really enjoy the ride while Trish remains open and honest--even about the dirt.

And even when she begins exploring Christianity, the writing and Trish's voice kept me captivated. She talked a lot about her doubts and uncertainty. All of which, being in her situation or wanting to "try something new" I would feel the same way. It was all relateable, fun, and easily readable.

But she keeps going down the path... and well, this is where my mind wandered. Everything was going so well. And weirdly well. And all the praying. And well, I kept reading because in the end I like a good love story, I had to be sure she found a man. BUT, I will caution you, it is riddled with Jesus and praying (so much praying I wonder how there is time for normal conversation) and just a world that maybe I am so far removed from I will never get. Trish never loses her voice, even tells us that she is uncertain herself... which helped. But in the end, it just went a bit too far--again--FOR ME. The writing was superb and I love that Trish went out on a limb and wrote the book. It's an insider look into her life, and into a part of religion I'm not so sure I will ever get.

Trish--thanks for the read. I know it is a year late. Sorry, and please forgive me. But girl, you keep writing. Love your voice and writing. I might not be ready to go to church any more today than I was before reading, but the book at least gave me a glimpse into your life, which is what a memoir is intended to do.

Balancing Act

Mommy Writer - Bethany Hiitola — Tue, 05 May 2009 21:31:33 +0000

I worked from home today.

That is no huge admittance of wrong-doing. In fact, I used to work from home 3 days a week or more (in my consultant life, I worked from home full-time unless I was on client site for meetings). The term used to is what is killing me here. Because the used to is even the past tense of this particular job. It was an alternative that wasn't frowned on or discouraged in any way. In fact, it was just a given that a dial in number would be given for every meeting and not to expect that you'd be meeting with everyone face-to-face. We were a dynamic group that worked across the globe, forward-thinking, pro-active in telecommuting... until now. Or well, the last year.

Suddenly expectations have shifted for numerous reasons all tying to staffing, volatile market conditions, the economy, and well, now I am in the office more than not. And it's wearing on me. Me as in the woman/mom/wife that is trying to have what we call-- ALL of life's opportunities. I mean to balance a job that is 45 minutes away from home, the schedules of a kindergartner/soccer player/6 year old son with interests outside of school, caring for a 19-month-old that has to have child care so I can work, and maintain a house and marriage is a tall feat for ANYONE in existence. Male/Female/Super Hero--Anyone and yet, I try to do it all on a daily basis. Sometimes in lieu of fostering friendships with women I have known for over half my life and personal time to just be me.

I worked from home full time (yes consultant) for 2 years WITH my son at my side. It was hectic, oftem chaotic, and tiring all at once. I loved being with him, but my work suffered as did I as I never got down time from work or him. Today, I work more at an office and less at home and sometimes with my daughter at home and sometimes not. It's clear, it's easier, more effective, and definitely better for ME when she's still at day care and I work from home (hell, I get 20 times more work done!).

Let me re-iterate--today, it's become clear there's a price that has been paid. And it's a doozey. It's partly my health and partly my families well being. See, having to dress and pretty myself up to get out of the office is one thing. But then I have to do that with the children too. And rush us all out the door and to places by certain times to make appearances at an office where STILL half the people are at other offices and then we all are on calls anyway. BUT we need to make appearances.

Unlike, my better work at home day today, when I got the kids where they needed to be without rushing myself silly (and raising my blood pressure) without one lick of prettying up besides brushing my teeth and a glancing view of myself in a mirror, getting online and working within 20 minutes (before 8am), answering email, being productive and all that fun stuff and then doing the call thing with those that WERE in the office today and across the globe. And that isn't even going into the details of the load of laundry (or 3) I got done today between conference calls, and the fact that I actually ate a lunch (a healthy one at that) ALL while working very diligently from home. I even got my washer fixed by the wonderful repair man that stopped by about 9am.

The day isn't over yet and I can confidently say I have gotten more done today--work and home wise--than the last week combined because I could focus. Become un-distracted by all things water-cooler related at work, and just do my thing, my way. And now I am missing my old schedule. The one that didn't matter where I worked or when. Just that I worked and got things done. It was something of a balance for me. One that is clearly missing now.

You’re a true soccer mom when…

Mommy Writer - Bethany Hiitola — Fri, 01 May 2009 21:56:12 +0000

... you thank God and the moon and all the stars in the sky because both of the weekend games got canceled due to field conditions.

Yes. I am that soccer mom.