And you said I couldn't write

Monday, August 18, 2008 by Bethany

I was told once I would never write professionally. My grammar was poor, I used too many commas, and I liked to write how I talk. Which would never fly in Corporate America.

To that asshole Professor, I'd like nothing more than to laugh in your face. My paycheck arrives bi-weekly due to my ability to write CONVERSATIONAL scripts and marketing material that is not only engaging, but also relatable. Damn different than the "technical writing" I was trained to do, but a helluva lot more personable. And something, that if I really think about it, I enjoy.

Thank god for marketing. And my years of user manual writing. Without one, I wouldn't have found the other.

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Tiring Mama (MB #17)

Friday, August 15, 2008 by Bethany

It's family visiting time. Dress the kids in something presentable, bake and make a dish to pass, pack up the diaper bag, a goodie bag for The Kiddo (to keep him busy), and all the odds and ends that mean and afternoon (to evening) get away.

Come home exhausted, all around. Only good thing? The kids crash fast. A whole 5 minutes in bed and their out (well that is after you can calm them down).

You on the other hand? Just as exhausted but have the dishes to wash, laundry to start, and well... everything. And it's only Friday. At least I have the weekend full of activities right?

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Living in a world of Post-It Notes

Thursday, August 14, 2008 by Bethany

It's no secret that I love post it notes. I use them for story notes, for work notes, for family notes, for reminders, secrets, love letters, and everything in between. So, when I look around my desks--at home, or in my office--and it is scattered in post it note graffiti, it's obvious that my life is a bit out of control. And right now, there is a see of purple and yellow everywhere I look (and I wish my husband shared the same passion, I could at least blame it partially on him. OR imagine them all as love letters).

It's gotten so bad at work, that I have started to stack similar notes or action items in a PILE of post it notes, so that when I get the time to tackle one, I'll tackle them all (hey, this system works. I went through four piles this afternoon). But it also shows how overwhelmed I am in the day job right now. Not one of the post it notes surrounding my home office desk is for writing. Those are stuffed in a drawer, in my "writing" notebook. Which is exactly how my writing self is feeling right now.

Even with the progress I had last week on a short story I am working on, I don't feel completely at ease pulling those post its out of the drawer. The rest of my life is chaotic, so ignoring the chaos for my writing? It feels wrong. Even though, it is very right (I don't get paid a lick more for any overtime I work).

So, it is time to play a little mind game with myself. It's called What Do You Want to Be Doing in 5 years. It's very similar to the If You Could Have Any Dream Job What Would It Be but I have to change it up now and again to keep myself interested. And you guessed it already. Writing tops the list. Writing for myself (what I want, in my pajamas, at home, with my kids screaming at my ankles), it's living the dream.

I have no misconceptions of the work involved or the fact that I could end up living pay check to pay check (or contract to contract, or so I hear)--but at least I know it is on my own terms. And I'll really enjoy the bulk of my work.

Right now I am playing a balancing game between the day job, my family life, and my writing life. None of which given alone is very easy even on the good days. And as I've said it more times than I care to remember, it is a tiring battle. One that right now, is obviously losing. The ideas are shoved in a drawer--can that not be subliminally telling me something.

So, again, I am rearranging my life. Or trying to. So that my writing comes first. Work writing is being handed off when I can and re-allocated to others. And I am having those "talks" with my manager to get the work load under control. For maybe the next 6 months. Mind you, we'll be starting all over again near Christmas. It's worked that way my entire career.

I truly believe there is a way to balance all of this. Somehow. And I am not delusional in thinking it will ever be completely balanced. It's impossible. But I do believe (it's the romantic in me) that there is some way to commit to writing for me at least 15 minutes a day. Every day. Even with the day job. The family. The kids screaming at me from my ankles or from above my head (my son's looking to be a tall 16 year old in 10 short years from now). I'll be damned if I don't find a way to make that work. So, in a world of post its, I'm pulling them from a drawer and putting that pile front and center.

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Eating Real

Wednesday, August 13, 2008 by Bethany

I was born in 1975. Go ahead and count the years. I can't hide that I am getting older by the minute. But it was a time just past the hippies, and more geared toward baby boomers, convenience, and the thought that the world could be a better place.

As I grew up I remember things like Twinkies, Long and endless summer days, Little Debbie Snacks, Sun-In hair bleach stuff, Jelly shoes, Macaroni and Cheese, Madonna (Like a Virgin), Sunny D, Tab, Seventeen and Sassy Magazine, Shake 'n Bake Chicken, Hair Metal Bands, Koolaid, Miss Universe Pageants and a whole slew of Popsicles and bike rides.

It was fun, innocent and a whole lot of laughs. I had a good time. I ate what I want, when I wanted and life was good. Well as good as it can be when wearing leggings and teased hair were considered high fashion. But my point lies in the food. It was a time of processed goodness that I am not ashamed to admit I loved. LOVED. I still feel myself jonesing for a Twinkie every now and again. Only now, I can only stuff half the starch in my mouth at a time and toss the rest for another day.

But now there is this healthy eating movement. And it is a movement (just like introducing infant formula to the world) has taken over. In order to be healthy, the experts say, stay green. Eat less processed food, less sugar, less carbohydrates. One egg not two. Water is good but make sure it crosses State lines... oh it's all confusing. And agreeable. Until you hear another claim or news report and then you wonder if the Pepsi you have been guzzling at work each afternoon is really eating away at your insides.

Along comes some samples of Peeled Snacks from PoshMama. I was a bit perplexed. Because, um, I'm not really a health food nut. My son eats chicken nuggets for breakfast, lunch and dinner! Who was I to eat and review these snacks?

Regardless, I spent some time on their website and learned about their beginnings : "In New York City in 2004, Noha Waibsnaider founded Peeled Snacks when she noticed something missing from the world of snack foods. Store shelves were full of processed potato chips, corn syrup-filled candy, and energy bars made with too many mysterious ingredients. But you couldn't get anything healthy and tasty that made you feel good about snacking. So she set about to fix that problem."

Okay. Good reasons. I mean, she's right. How long does an apple or grapes LAST in the refrigerator? And the potato chips that are constantly being eaten in my pantry, could be replaced with something else in the daily packed lunches right? So, I gave them a shot. My son, intrigued by the packages on the counter, gave them a taste too.

There were three varieties of fruit & nut mixes. Packaging was definitely modern, unique and see through. You could see what you were buying... and that alone, makes their claim of "ingredients that you recognize" more real (it's hard to miss dried pieces of sliced Pineapple!). Will I say there were excellent? I can't say just yet, I've only tried a few. Four stars to the pine-4-Pineapple and the Apple-2-the-core, though. The others? Give or take depending on my day and I haven't dug into every bag yet.

My son? The apples. And that is pretty much it. And my son likes fruit--apples, cantaloupe, honeydew, grapes, strawberries. But he just didn't quite get the DRIED part. Yet. Because, I must say, every time I open a new package, he does want to "take a taste." So, there's hope yet. Because to me, the BEST part of these, are the fact that they can sit on my pantry shelf for a while without "spoiling."

Eating fresh is good. We all agree right? But to me, Miss I Grew Up Eating Processed Food, we all need TREATS... no one would have those white chocolate mochas if they weren't good for something. What about chocolate cake? Processed smoshest, I need to indulge on occasion.

My point? It's all about moderation. Eating what you like but not gorging (tell that to my head and not my stomach). And, really, processed foods are what they are. I grew up on them and they didn't kill me (even with my extra chunky thighs). But having a nice juicy apple or ripe orange can't be beat on a summer day. How about that fruit salad at the neighborhood BBQ? A fresh pineapple (have you ever had a really fresh one from Hawaii? They are to die for!).

These fruit snacks? A great alternative to changing it up. And they have a longer shelf life. Not to knock the fact that I can grab them while walking out the door for work, because, well, that makes them an even better snack than buying one at the local fast food joint. And if I ever get back on Weight Watchers... well, I am sure I'll be stocking up for those late afternoon sweet cravings I inevitably get.

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Who said it's all good?

Tuesday, August 12, 2008 by Bethany

There's something to be said for child rearing. It's both the best and worst thing that can happen to you as a person. Sure, the bundle of peeing and shitting joy that lands in your arms for the first time (and rips you apart during birth) is one thing. They cry, eat, sleep, snuggle... all by the rules. Unless they are colicky... which means they are crying. And crying. And more crying why you wonder what you did to deserve the hell called your life for the first 3 months. Still, the child sleeps (eventually). And the angelic features woo you into feeling soft, cuddly, and even maternal.

But then they turn 4. Or in my case almost 6. And they throw Starburst candies at you because you ask them why they decided it was time to eat one without asking. And then they slam their door in response to you asking again, why they threw the candy. And then drama called crying at the top of their lungs. And then they give you the look of fear when Dad comes home. Because (gasp), you might tell him of this bad behavior.

Unfortunately, on most nights, I might feel partially responsible for this odd behavior. My fuse is often short after working all day in an office that is far from stress free (my overtime hours are enough to make one want to cry. Only I'd cry for you, I don't get overtime pay. I'm salary). I'm usually quick to raise my voice. Maybe even accuse. Or am just plain grumpy because I just want him to behave. But tonight? I did none of the above.

Calmness was all about me (even with a fussy baby on my hip and dinner on the stove). And I was matter-a-factly asking about the candy. Only I got the response that typically I would give--exaggerated, loud, and a bit snotty. It's nothing short of staring myself in the face on my worst days as a mother. And I am supposed to be setting a good example.

So, I scold him. I talk to him. I reason with him. And I hug him.

Finally after about 30 minutes of time alone (which was not forced. He had 4 minutes in his room before I entered to have "The Talk"), he walked back out meekly. Sat next to me on the couch with arms out for a small but tender hug and a "I'm Sorry." And we were back at square one.

I wish I could say all scolding moments were resolved like this one. But, as any mother would tell you, it's not always common. Sometimes there is more crying. Or just a plain resume of normal--give or take a few timid looks from across the room. Or more yelling (sometimes from both parties). Or the dreaded Talk From Dad. But all in all, it's usually non eventful. For The Kiddo.

For me? It's another story. I'm full of doubt. Some regret for raising my voice. Some for just not knowing what the best course of action is. Or what I should or should not do. Or for just not doing it right (whatever that is). I find myself staring at my son wondering what is going through his head and praying that THIS VERY MOMENT isn't the memory he has from his year of being 5. Who would want to remember their mom frazzled and stressed over something seemingly small (eating a Strawberry Starburst candy)? Or a mom that liked to raise her voice or take conference calls every morning on the way to summer camp? Because, I am afraid, that is the mom he'll remember.

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Is it any wonder?

Monday, August 11, 2008 by Bethany

Really people. I've done over 5 loads of laundry, bathed the children, cleaned the kitchen table and counters more times than I care to count, and did at least 2 dishwasher loads of dishes. TODAY alone (well actually yesterday). And yet, I can't sleep. I wonder why? I have yet to slow down.

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Life and all that Crap

Saturday, August 09, 2008 by Bethany

So, I've been gone for a few days. Nothing out of the ordinary going on, just me, my work, and my family trying to stay together, functioning, and a little bit more out of the red. See, I work a 40+ hour work week. So does my husband. And this parenting thing takes me to levels of tiredness I didn't know existed 8 years ago. But I love it. And I love my family. However, from time to time, I need a break from the multitudes of multitasking I do throughout my days/weeks/months/years. The last few days? It's been blogging. But since blogging has been my only outlet for writing over the last couple of days--well, it hurt me. If I don't write, I get grumpy... and I think I've said this before.

Anyway, all this self pity is just about a simple fact, I need to "let go" of a few of my current responsibilities. It can't be laundry or housecleaning as we are barely making it through the weeks with clean underwear in these parts. And the house had dust balls the size of my cats. So both of those chores need to be addressed. AT LEAST as little as I am doing right now. But my other commitments? Day job has to be done still to pay the bills. Mothering doesn't stop EVER. But writing weekly book reviews? That can slide. How about my weekly writing of the serial fiction story? Well, that is already gone to biweekly anyway.

As much as this pains me, I'm giving up my reading habits for a while. Sure, I'll still do book reviews but not as often. I need time to write my own stuff--whether blogging or short stories or novels that may never be published. It's important. It's my life. It's what makes me want to get up in the morning.

So, that's that. And I feel like crying. But I also feel a deep sigh of relief coming over my shoulders. I need a life I can be happy about. Running to and fro and reading too fast to enjoy ANY book, is not a way to live it at the moment. Especially when my knee-biting daughter is every so clingy right now. It's hard enough to get my normal obligations done, so I need to be happy I get any extra-curricular in. Especially if it is writing.

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