mommy writer :: bethany hiitola" /> mommy writer :: bethany hiitola" />

Where in the world?

Saturday, June 27, 2009 by Bethany

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

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

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

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

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

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11:05 PM | | 1 comments

I'm sorry, I didn't hear you...

Sunday, June 07, 2009 by Bethany

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.

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10:55 PM | | 2 comments

Ideas, they always seem better in my head

Saturday, June 06, 2009 by Bethany

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

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

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

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11:08 AM | | 1 comments

Mr. & Mrs.

Friday, June 05, 2009 by Bethany

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.

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6:07 AM | | 2 comments

Call Me Paranoid

Thursday, June 04, 2009 by Bethany

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.

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6:04 PM | | 1 comments

WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE? by Alyse Myers

Tuesday, June 02, 2009 by Bethany

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

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

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

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

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

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

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5:10 PM | | 0 comments

Netbookin’ It

Thursday, May 28, 2009 by Bethany

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

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

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

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

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6:50 PM | | 1 comments