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My friend indeed!

Creative Writing 4 Kids — Tue, 02 Mar 2010 03:59:00 +0000

Cigarette is my friend in needUnlike a fair-weather friendCigarette offers solace in times of turmoilBy burning all problems and vanishing them to thick air.Smoking is one’s carefully cultivated ‘air’Like in World War II Winston Churchill’s

I was the wicket!

Creative Writing 4 Kids — Wed, 24 Feb 2010 10:44:00 +0000

Six-years old Gopal was playing in parkWith his friends, the rubber ball cricketHis 4-years old brother wanted to joinAnd made known his intention with all signs. A older man was sitting in the park was watching,How Gopal's brother shouted and screamed...

Attention to detail!

Creative Writing 4 Kids — Sun, 21 Feb 2010 09:46:00 +0000

Who used to be always stubbornShe had a hard time bringing him upAs she couldn’t make his behaviour to stop. In a school for a functionGeetha heard her son saying there was a photo sessionWhile she was preparing breakfastAfter waking up late making u...

The fall and downfall of Tiger woods

Creative Writing 4 Kids — Wed, 17 Feb 2010 04:15:00 +0000

Tiger woods was addicted to womenWith his money chicks were in his denEvading his guilt with his wifeBy saying he is only human.Ordinary man has thousands of photographsBut not in magazines, online, television or newspapersHis family album is precious ...

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.

Check anywhere but there!

Creative Writing 4 Kids — Tue, 02 Feb 2010 04:36:00 +0000

Gopal always invested in sharesWhether he gained money he did not care It was very hard for his wife to bearAnd tried her views to make aware.The Global market dipped due to recessionBut Gopal was on his addictive missionAnd h...

Getting into Father Shoe’s

Creative Writing 4 Kids — Thu, 28 Jan 2010 10:24:00 +0000

12 years old Rama was from middle class familyHis father had to struggle to support him amplySo his graduated elder brother was trying for a jobBut MNC him did not absorb.Dejected his brother came homeAnd explained his indian acent was his domeCall cen...

Michael Phelps- The Eighth Wonder!

Creative Writing 4 Kids — Wed, 27 Jan 2010 13:24:00 +0000

© Image may be subject to copyright by another individual.In an aquarium in Gopal’s houseA fish couple were watching T.V. closeMichael Phelps was collecting goldIn each competition with legendary hold.While he swam with grace and eleganceThis couple...

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.

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 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.

On Existence and Shit

The Burnside Writers Blog — Wed, 05 Aug 2009 10:54:00 +0000

My friend Krystal Lambert posed a pressing question in a text message tonight. She said, “Umm excuse me.Could you please tell me what it all means,” I asked for clarification and she replied, “existence and shit?” To be honest, I can taste her question. It is stale bread. It cracks and breaks in your hand and scratches your cheek.And it goes down airy and dry.

Krystal, I recently read this by Thomas Merton in a letter he wrote to a friend, “Can I tell you that I have found answers to the questions that torment the man of our time? I do not know if I have found answers. When I first became a monk, yes, I was more sure of “answers.” But as I grow old in the monastic life and advance further into solitude, I become aware that I have only begun to seek the questions. And what are the questions? Can man makes sense out of his existence? Can man honestly give his life meaning merely by adopting a certain set of explanations which pretend to tell him why the world began and where it will end, why there is evil and what is necessary for a good life? . . . I have been summoned to explore a desert area of man’s heart in which explanations no longer suffice, and in which one learns that only experience counts. An arid, rocky, dark land of the soul that is sometimes illuminated by strange fires which men fear and which men studiously avoid except in their nightmares. And in this area I have learned that one cannot truly know hope unless he has found out how like despair hope is.”

Krystal, as you know, I have a Bachelors in Biblical Literature. And with that I can tell you about how the Greek of 1-Peter is better than the Greek of 2-Peter. I can tell you about how small the Hebrew language is compared to the English language . . . and then tell you that it is more dynamic. As one author puts it, the Hebrew language is Volcanic. It erupts and explodes. It bellows and hovers. With a single syllable it can sear your heart . . . it can destroy your whole life and make your bones tremble. I can tell you about how Jesus is the most untouchable soul in the universe and at the same time about how he is the most touched. I can tell you about how I believe in miracles based on the fact that I believe in the Jews and how I am baffled that they survived the violent forceps of history (Where are the Hittites? Show me one Hittite in New York City–Walker Percy). I can tell you about how it is better to give than to receive. I can tell you that the Kingdom of God is absurd and foolish and that it is upside down and backwards. I can tell you the importance of conserving the earth, of promoting peace over war, of justifying the plight of the poor, of re-discovering the arts. I can tell you about how we are wired for community, friends and family. I can tell you about how man is the most despicable, base, arrogant and prideful creature on this earth and I can also tell you about how man is the most glorious, angelic and humble creature on this earth.

I can tell you a lot. But for some reason I can’t tell you what I’m going to do with my life. I can only say in a Robert Frost kind of way that two roads will diverge in a yellow wood and I suspect that I’ll be sorry in the end because I could not take both. And perhaps one will be better than the other but I can’t say with certainty at this point because up ahead both ways tapper off out of sight. And I know that the decision I make now will make all the difference in the end. But now I must be vulnerable and take one step in one direction. But I’m not sure which and that kind of scares me.

I’ve been a lot of places in this world and taken a lot of steps with a lot of people. But for the first time in my life I am alone. I have always had at least one solid friend around me at nearly every step in my life . . . be that Andy, Cole, Bryan, Tyler, Krista, Scott and most recently Solomon. I am deeply grateful for all of them and I am jealous of their lives. I don’t want to be sappy here but love is a big word and love is appropriate for what I feel for them. But now I am alone. My friend has just left, my apartment is empty, my job is unfulfilling and my bike is carrying someone else. I’m alone. In a big city. Eating stale bread. And telling you the things I know and the things I don’t.

Krystal, I didn’t answer your question. Like Merton, I used to know the answer but now I’m beginning to understand the question. And I suspect that your question ages much like wine. Over the years it will ferment and expand. Keep asking and you'll have a fine drink on your hands. Just promise that you'll pour a glass for two.

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

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

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.

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?

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.

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.

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

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.

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.

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.