Post from Mommy Writer - Bethany Hiitola
Tuesday, January 26, 2010, 6:41 pm
Read more: Writing

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).

Post from Mommy Writer - Bethany Hiitola
Friday, January 22, 2010, 10:33 pm
Read more: Writing

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.

Post from Mommy Writer - Bethany Hiitola
Friday, January 22, 2010, 10:33 pm
Read more: Writing

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.

Post from Mommy Writer - Bethany Hiitola
Friday, January 22, 2010, 2:39 am
Read more: Writing

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.

Post from Mommy Writer - Bethany Hiitola
Thursday, January 21, 2010, 2:02 am
Read more: Writing

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.

Post from Mommy Writer - Bethany Hiitola
Wednesday, January 6, 2010, 4:54 pm
Read more: Writing

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.

Post from Mommy Writer - Bethany Hiitola
Monday, December 7, 2009, 12:51 am
Read more: Writing

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.

Post from Mommy Writer - Bethany Hiitola
Wednesday, November 4, 2009, 8:41 pm
Read more: Writing

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.

Post from Mommy Writer - Bethany Hiitola
Friday, October 30, 2009, 4:31 am
Read more: Writing

There are two things I am certain off:

Post from Mommy Writer - Bethany Hiitola
Tuesday, October 27, 2009, 7:29 pm
Read more: Writing

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?

Post from Mommy Writer - Bethany Hiitola
Saturday, October 17, 2009, 10:52 pm
Read more: Writing

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?

Post from Mommy Writer - Bethany Hiitola
Saturday, October 17, 2009, 10:52 pm
Read more: Writing

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?

Post from Mommy Writer - Bethany Hiitola
Saturday, September 26, 2009, 9:08 pm
Read more: Writing

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.

Post from Mommy Writer - Bethany Hiitola
Sunday, September 20, 2009, 10:19 pm
Read more: Writing

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.

Post from Mommy Writer - Bethany Hiitola
Friday, September 11, 2009, 5:38 pm
Read more: Writing

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.

Post from Mommy Writer - Bethany Hiitola
Wednesday, August 26, 2009, 5:21 am
Read more: Writing

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.

Post from Mommy Writer - Bethany Hiitola
Monday, August 17, 2009, 8:56 pm
Read more: Writing

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.

Post from Mommy Writer - Bethany Hiitola
Monday, August 17, 2009, 8:27 pm
Read more: Writing

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.

Post from Mommy Writer - Bethany Hiitola
Thursday, July 30, 2009, 12:03 pm
Read more: Writing

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.

Post from Mommy Writer - Bethany Hiitola
Tuesday, July 28, 2009, 12:54 pm
Read more: Writing

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.