I'll do it for a Running Skirt

Tuesday, January 26, 2010 by Bethany

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).

Labels: habit, me, running

Bad Habits are Hard to Break

Friday, January 22, 2010 by Bethany

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.

Labels: habit, me, writing, writing life

When all else fails... procrastinate

Thursday, January 21, 2010 by Bethany

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.

Labels: me, writing, writing life

Simple. Concise. Goal-making.

Wednesday, January 20, 2010 by Bethany

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.

Labels: life, me, writing

New Year, Mediocre Outlook

Wednesday, January 06, 2010 by Bethany

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.

Labels: holiday, life, me, new year, writing

Something out of the ordinary

Sunday, December 06, 2009 by Bethany

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.

Labels: accident, life, me

The BEST MOMENT EVER

Wednesday, November 04, 2009 by Bethany

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.

Labels: kid wittisms, life, me, parenting, The Peanut

Facts of Life

Thursday, October 29, 2009 by Bethany

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?

Labels: life, me, working

Sit!

Tuesday, October 27, 2009 by Bethany

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.

Labels: kid wittisms, life, me, parenting, The Peanut

It's the weekend right?

Saturday, October 17, 2009 by Bethany

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?

Labels: blogging, life, me

Ever wonder what DOESN'T get published?

Saturday, September 26, 2009 by Bethany

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.

Labels: blog, life, me

It's all a bit scary

Sunday, September 20, 2009 by Bethany

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.

Labels: life, me, parenting, The Peanut

So much to talk about, so little time

Friday, September 11, 2009 by Bethany

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.

Labels: blog, life, me

Still Counting...

Tuesday, August 25, 2009 by Bethany

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.

Labels: life, me, vacation

On the Road Again

Monday, August 17, 2009 by Bethany

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.

Labels: family, life, me, vacation

Lost in the Trees

Thursday, August 06, 2009 by Bethany

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.

Labels: life, me

Weighing Chocolate

Thursday, July 30, 2009 by Bethany

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.

Labels: life, me, self, weight

30 Minutes of Life

Tuesday, July 28, 2009 by Bethany

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.

Labels: life, me, parenting

Happy Day

Friday, July 24, 2009 by Bethany

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.

Labels: Happiness, life, me, parenting, The Peanut

Conversation with an almost 2 year old

Saturday, July 18, 2009 by Bethany

"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?

Labels: life, me, motherhood, parenting, The Peanut

Has Left the Building

Saturday, July 11, 2009 by Bethany

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.

Labels: blog, life, me, writing

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.

Labels: me, parentling, working, writer's block, writing, writing life

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.

Labels: life, me, sickness

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.

Labels: me, writing, writring life

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.

Labels: life, me, parenting

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.

Labels: life, me, The Kiddo

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…

Labels: me, writing, writing life

Weighty Topic

Wednesday, May 27, 2009 by Bethany

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Labels: body, diet, me, weight

The Wedgie That Binds

Saturday, May 09, 2009 by Bethany

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.

Labels: beauty, image, life, me, weight

Balancing Act

Tuesday, May 05, 2009 by Bethany

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.

Labels: life, me, parenting, working

You're a true soccer mom when...

Friday, May 01, 2009 by Bethany

... 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.

Labels: life, me, motherhood bytes

Life Detox

Thursday, April 23, 2009 by Bethany

It's become apparent I am stressed out about work. My nightly dreams revolve around screen captures, videos, office politics and of course night wakings from my almost 2 year old. Sound like fun? Then welcome to working motherhood. At least for me.

On our recent endeavors to the Great White North to pretend like we were back in college (and pre-children since my mom watched the kidlings for 2 nights), I came to realize maybe this Corporate life ain't worth the mayhem. Trips to my old home town do that to me. The cost of living is a helluva lot less than it is here and life just seems calmer and simpler. Granted having lived there 23 years, it is all appearances. Sure life is simpler but bills still need to be paid and life still moves on. But it FEELS less stressful than my current situation. And that makes it the greener grass at the moment.

That feeling seems to be catchy. The Husband is talking about going back to school again (which is all good. The economy screwed that idea a couple years ago) or finding another outlet called work. You see, we've both been doing pretty much the same job for over 10 years now. And, truth be told, I can't imagine doing it for 30 more years. I'm already sick of the fact that I can say, I remember when tech writing in Framemaker was a big deal! And honestly, I can't stay in a career for 40 years or more. Who can these days?

So anyway. I'm dreaming again about a lot of things. Leaving Corporate life for something else (among ideas discussed a restaurant, my writing-of course!, going back to school (my husband), leaving the area) but we aren't huge risk takers. This talk of change is likely causing my skin to crawl as much as work. Even though I am craving the change in my head. Actually doing it, well, is another story. Especially when you have 2 kids, a house, 2 cats, a dog, school... and life to live.

Wish us luck. It lasts another 30 days or so and then we find something else to talk about. And it might end up with my job woes again. Can't wait for things to turn around a bit. It saves me from "just being happy to have a job."

Labels: career, day job, life, me, working

What do you do with an extra day off?

Monday, April 20, 2009 by Bethany

Why drop the kidlings off at school/day care, crawl back into bed until noon, and then eat at the local greasy spoon diner for a brunch. Or early dinner. Or whatever an 1500 calorie meal called a "garbage plate" can be.

It was awesome.

Labels: life, me

True Signs the Stress is Showing

Wednesday, April 08, 2009 by Bethany

When you don't want to admit how often your child asks, "Mom are you just tired? Or are you mad at me?"

Labels: kid wittisms, life, me, motherhood bytes

The Noticer Project - Part 1

Monday, April 06, 2009 by Bethany

Want to send some positive vibes to the world? Make a difference in someones life? It's all about the small stuff. Just last week, I left money with a bartista at Starbucks to pay for the next customer's order. Whatever it was. Why? Because someone did this small ity bity thing for me about a year ago, on a day where I was in a pretty crummy mood, and it made my week. So, I passed it along. Well, now you have that chance as well. Welcome to The Noticer Project.

Here's the official low down:

On April 7, 2009, a viral grassroots movement called The Noticer Project (TheNoticerProject.com) is calling on people everywhere to "notice" five people who have made a positive impact on their lives.

The concept is based on the new book "The Noticer" (Thomas Nelson, April 28, 2009) by bestselling author of "The Traveler's Gift" Andy Andrews, which is all about gaining fresh perspective on life by noticing the little things. How you choose to recognize the five people who made a special impact on your life can take many forms-by joining The Noticer Project Facebook group, by publicity posting on TheNoticerProject.com, by posting a note on your personal Facebook site or blog, or even just sending individual emails. The basic point is to offer hope and encouragement in these tough times through the simple act of recognizing someone significant to you.

First, I'll give you a heads up. Never read any of Andy Andrews work. In fact, never heard of him until the email landing in my inbox about this latest online venture. But, the IDEA based around this book/web site--noticing people who had some influence in your life--I love. So, I'm in. The website, is apparently not completely live yet (tomorrow is the go-live date!), but I'm ready to share some love. So here it goes, 5 people that have influenced my life that you might not expect (in no particular order):*

Dana P (name changed to protect the innocent)
High school is a pretty impressionable age. An age I don't want to re-live if you paid me. It was full of wonder, growing, and of course my first fist fight. Yup, Dana charged me at a dance and slugged my across my right jaw over some rumor she'd heard earlier in the night. With little thought I just charged back at her--thank God for the big guy over in the corner, Mark, he stopped me. Just flat out grabbed my wrist, and said, "It's not worth it Beth. Just walk away." I think I swore at him, maybe even tried to wrestle away from his 6 foot 5 inch, 230 lb. frame, but in the end I walked away. You'd think he was the one with more influence, but really it was Dana. She was taking sides with some friends of mine. Close friends. In fact, she CREATED the sides in a way. And, although it killed me at the time, it forced me to stand alone as myself in the high school crowd. To stand up for what I thought was right (me) and not worry about what the rest of the world thought. And I did. For about 6 months. Until my closest friends and I made up over the trivial mess that had torn us apart. So, Dana--if you're out there--you may have thought by throwing a punch you pushed me down a notch. Really, looking back, it gave me a bit of confidence to stand on my own. No matter what.

Jenny S (name changed to protect the innocent)
Seems I was pretty influential in high school. It's a time of learning how to deal with the rest of the world... before the real grown up part. And for me, being mostly geek, I spent a lot of time reflecting and internalizing almost everything. And then walked in Jenny. She was a senior. Me? An impressionable Freshman. Both in forensics trying to make a name for ourselves. To me, she was THE girl. Confident, beautiful, smart... and didn't care what the rest of the world thought of her. And I liked that. It was everything I wanted to be but wasn't. And bless her, Jenny befriended me. We lived out a bit from school--she often would pick me up to chat, bring me to practice, and help me become better at my "role" in the group. It was great. I'd like to think that she took me under her wing and let me be me. I think she did. But she also did more, she shrugged off the rest of the crowd and kept hanging out with me, even when it was over. And ALWAYS told me to believe in me. It didn't matter what the rest of the world thought (Remember the first one? Yes, without Jenny, I don't know I would have survived Dana).

Nancy G (name changed to protect the innocent)
Moving on to college, when you really don't have a clue what you want to do. Or you might, but just have no idea how to get there. It was just after Freshman year, I was ready to move out of the dorms and on my own (for real), and get a job. One that would give me a flexible schedule, but also--just maybe--get me out of waitressing. And I landed in the Writing Center. Loved the job, loved what I was doing (helping others write!) and loved the crowd that worked there. We were encouraged to thing for ourselves, adventure into uncharted territory, and learn. Learn everything we wanted to know about ourselves and writing and life. I even presented a paper I WROTE to graduate students (and I was an undergrad).

But during all of that, I had a hard time writing. In fact, that paper I ended up presenting took almost 9 months to write. I had the bones. I had the hard facts. I knew what I wanted to say. But the writing just wasn't. The voice just not quite right... and I was frustrated. Nancy would smile each time I "tried" and just encourage me to keep trying. That the writing was inside me, it just took time. And finally, that 20th time, it was right. And instead of reading through with a red pen in hand, she only patted my shoulder and said, "You got it. Go get 'em." From that moment on, I wanted to be just like her.

Kurt R (his name was changed to protect the guilty )
I'm moving chronologically here... and we're going to land right at my first job. Green as green can be I landed a tech writing gig at a company that was in the hay-day of technology. It was hip, industrial, and full of a team of tech writers that were everything surrounding fun. And really (really) smart. So smart in fact, I felt a little out of my league. How was I, a recent grad, going to compare to these ultra-cool geeks that could set up a SIP network with their hands behind their back and rebuilt a PC with nothing but junkyard parts? Well, it involved many bar nights followed by days in the computer lab, and one kind gentleman who walked me right into my own geekdom (aside from my husband, who I met in college and MADE me sit my ass down in front of a computer and learn how to use it). And here I am today, a pretty knowledgeable tech writer. But what Kurt really taught me--was to just get right into the nuts and bolts and learn now to use it FOR REAL (none of this text book bull shit, get into loosening screws, and typing in code).

My Late Mother in Law
And the last on this list.... hmmm. There's a lot I could say here--we weren't fast friends, in fact, not sure we would call each other friends at all. In fact, the relationship was rocky at best. And there were a number of factors that made the situation what it was. BUT, she made me realize it isn't all about me. Not that was completely self-absorbed in any right, but I had to look past the difficult situation and make the best of it, for my husband. And for OUR life. When I was younger, I'd always thought I'd have a family much like what I had growing up. Mom's parents and Dad's parents, coming over all the time at the same time and eating HUGE meals together. And all getting along. Not that getting all the parents in the room didn't work for us, it was just uncomfortable. And there was always that hidden reservation hiding in the corner. In the end, I had to believe in myself, my husband, and my marriage. It made me stand up, and be me. Be a wife. And be a mother. BE something larger than just a woman trying to keep it together. And I was. And in the end, I'm stronger for it. Even though, the relationship tough.

It's kinda funny this list. I never really thought about how I would answer this question beyond those I am closest to. And yet, here it is. Every one of them helped me learn to be me. And, you know what, I'm still learning. But Dana, Jen, Nancy, Kurt, and Chris... hey, you made an impact. And I'm who I am today because of you.

Want to play along? Please do, just make sure to link to The Noticer Project (and add your choices to the page when it goes live tomorrow!). And if you think of it, let me know. I'd love to see who has influenced you.

* I decided to add on the "might not expect" qualifier here because, honestly, I'd pick my parents, my husband, and my kids. I obviously grew up around my parents, found and lived with my husband for over 10 years, and now am raising 2 kids--how can that NOT be influential? So, I've made this more difficult for myself. I'm going to call out people that may or may not know--that aren't immediate family--they've influenced my life and how/why. You can play along in any fashion you like. There are no rules.

Labels: books, life, me, reading, The Noticer Project

Writing Talk

Thursday, March 26, 2009 by Bethany

I submitted a short (short) piece last month to an online mag. It got rejected today.

Don't worry, this was one of those rejections that gave me the warm fuzzies. The editor gave me feedback. It was good feedback. And I plan to submit again. Eventually when I find the time to write something that isn't in Powerpoint, full of charts, and speaking a language that only can be called Corporate. Which, really, I need a break from. It's killing the creativity of words. And sentences. And language for me.

But, let's not bring back the stress of my day job here, shall we. Let's talk writing. There's this online mag I want to really submit to but worry I am not literary enough. Then there is Glimmer Train. And Brain Child. And I have a whole slew of articles hidden in the depths of my brain waiting to come out. Along with another short story. And a book of essays that just recently came to me while conversing with another author. All of this thinking about writing has finally done me some good. Now I just have to carve out the time.

Let me try to virtually plan for a bit. Okay? I can't do mornings. I wish I could do them, but I've tried the 5am thing and I just can't. I'd be a zombie by 2pm during the day, and that is usually when it is just heating up. So that's out. Midnight is also out right now due to The Peanut's atrocious sleep schedule (which is not really a schedule but a demand for me to sleep near her). That leaves chunks. 15 minutes here and there throughout my day to get my writing done.

Is it effective? Not always. But, if I carry a notebook around with me (like I do anyway at work). Jot down notes (bullets really. I'm a tech writer by training, it's in my blood). And ideas. Then when I DO get the 15 minutes. I haul ass with my writing. It's the way I work when I need to ease back into writing my own stuff a lot. Or when I have a project I want to finish before a self-enforced deadline.

On my mark... get set.... go!

Labels: me, writing, writing life

What my daughter has "learned" while I've worked at home

Monday, March 23, 2009 by Bethany

Anyone that tells you working from home with a child of any age is easy? Well they are full of shit. I'm in process of doing it for the 2nd time, and well, let me just say, my daughter is taking more advantage of the situation. Here's her "learnings:"

- to climb on her small table and dance on it
- write on the ottoman and other similar furniture with a ball point pen
- what it means to dance naked and freely of her own accord (she unclothed/diaper herself)
- what the plastic utensil drawer is really all about
- turn on the clock radio and dance like there is no tomorrow
- what television remotes can really do
- what soft cat food tastes like
- a spilled water dish can really be like a swimming pool
- Goldfish crackers are great entertainment for the dog
- "Babies" (Dolls) like the toilet too
- Taking a bath is easy--once you get in the tub and turn on the water
- Dad's electric razor makes a cool noise when you turn it on (and hey, what does it do when I brush it on my hair?)

But, I must add, she has also learned how to sit quietly (for about 15 minutes) and color (yes on paper), watch a show she enjoys for more than 10 minutes, and to dance with her brother for more hours than I can count (just not in a row). It's a mixed blessing. Or adventure. Depending on how you look at it.

Labels: life, me, parenting, The Peanut, working

Can your ears itch?

Friday, March 20, 2009 by Bethany

Last week was--what can I say?--interesting. I found myself a bit itchy and rashly on Monday. Nothing big, just some spots on one arm. Then the other. And a small annoying itch on my forearm. Tuesday? Another day and rash entirely. I was covered. LITERALLY. From head to toe in a hive like rash. At the time, it wasn't that itchy but definitely not inviting-looking. Hell, I had it on my face!

Being the vain person that I am, I canceled all my work meetings and headed to the doctor. That appointment itself was, well, one I wouldn't want to repeat (seriously, I was red from head to toe and the doc asked me to drop my drawers JUST TO BE SURE it was really on my legs. It was all over my feet for God's sake!), but I got medication. I got a half-answer that I was having an allergic reaction. Likely to food. But never mind I've never had a food allergy EVER. But, alas, I am veering off topic.

My days were riddled with head to toe breakouts, turtlenecks, jackets, and hiding out in bathrooms, as the rash would come and go. Nothing too bad UNTIL Saturday. Which, let me remind you, is 6 days later... and then the reality set in. The rash was getting itchy. And by itchy, I mean so-bad-you-want-to-scream-itchy. And it was everywhere. Hands, toes, legs, thighs, arms, and, yes, ears. I did nothing but complain, stand in the shower, and desiring to strangle the doctor who prescribed me this God-Awful steroid that was making more irritable than my natural state.

In the end, another 5 days later I am rash free. I am itchy free. And I am convinced it was no food allergy at all. A co-worker had a disturbingly similar rash. Her doctor said it wasn't contagious at all. No worries! But, I don't know, seems too much a coincidence for me. One that I am freaked out will land one of my kids into Itch Hell this week. So cross your fingers, and think thoughts of Calamine lotion for me. I don't want the The Peanut to be rash-ridden. I might just kill me.

Labels: life, me, sickness

Division of Labor

Thursday, March 05, 2009 by Bethany

[WARNING!! This is a marriage rant. If you are sensitive to these sorts of tirades, please click away now. Because, as much as I love my husband, there are days I wonder what the hell I was thinking throwing kids into this mix. But really--he's a good man, tries hard, and does what he can. But today, not so much. And I need to vent about it.]

It's become apparent that my mornings are not created equal. When the alarm screeches us into the daylight hours (and I mean pulls our asses from sleep), my day is THROWN into full force. Here's the low down of how the day pans out:

- Typically the alarm wakes the baby who is asleep next to me before the husband can hit snooze for a second time. Which means, I'm up for the day.
- With The Peanut in hand, I trot down the hall to The Kiddo's room. Pat him nicely and report a school day.
- Go to The Peanut's room, find her clothing for the day. This can take 5 minutes or 20... depends on if I have to hold her the entire time, she grabs and throws clothes around and if the laundry is done
- Walk back into the bedroom, if husband is not awake, wake him. If he is awake, lie my daughter down and get into the changing diaper get dressed thing
- Walk back to my son's room and make sure he is awake. Remind him of school. Give the 2 minute warning ("You better be out of bed by the time I come back in here or I will choose what clothes you wear for the day!")
- Walk back to my room and head to the closet... must find my own clothes
- Wait! I have to go to the bathroom yet, head to the 2nd bathroom.
- Check in on son... he's up (we hope!). Remind him, "Pick out your clothes now. Quickly so we aren't late!)
- Bathroom
- (Hopefully) Let daughter play on the floor
- Brush teeth, comb hair that has completely gone nuts after sleeping on it wet from the shower the night before
- Pick up screaming daughter
- Find the socks/underwear/sweatshirt my son can't find but HAS TO HAVE for school
- Back to my own closet, must find clothes
- Answer husband's request for where his lunch is, or what he need to remember that week.
- Help son with shirt. Remind him to head to the bathroom to go.. well go
- Find my shirt and pants
- Go to washer to find bra and underwear
- Pick up daughter who is now screaming
- Kiss husband good bye
- Let the dog outside
- Make sure son brushed his teeth (yes at 6 years old I have to smell his breath)
- Ask son to look for his snack for the day
- Collect all his backpack/school belongings so he can start getting ready
- Check hot lunch menu to make sure he likes it
- Let dog in and feed her
- Off to son's room to make sure the fish are fed
- Which reminds me of the cats... make sure they have food
- Put daughter down and have her fuss at my feet while I get my clothing on.
- Ask son to put snack in his backpack and his folder/library book/homework/etc
- Let the dog back outside
- Give daughter "her toothbrush" to play while I use my own to do the tooth brushing
- Let dog in
- Put on make up
- Try hair do again
- Deodorant
- Pick up crying daughter. Put on her socks and shoes
- Order son to quit playing and put on his shoes, socks, jacket, snow-pants, hat, gloves...
- Find my own socks
- Shoes.
- Perfume
- Check clock and realize we are 5 minutes late
- Stop myself from screaming
- Put on my jacket. Jacket The Peanut
- Make sure son's backpack has all we need
- Maneuver all of us out the door and into the car....

And you see where this is going right? I take care of not only MYSELF, but The Peanut, Kiddo, 2 cats, dog, 2 fish... and my husband? Himself. Now you tell me, why I am so stressed each and every week day?

Labels: life, marriage, me, parenting, working

Out with the Red

Wednesday, March 04, 2009 by Bethany

I had red hair for a whole week this time--and then, well, it just didn't sit right with me. It might have been too burgundy. Or too red. Or just too dark. Or maybe it was I couldn't wear this new red sweater I had in the closet without having it match my hair which drove me crazy. Not sure, but it was a must to get some toner and get some more natural color into the hair that is forever changing.

So, new record for red: a whole 2 weeks.

Record for the number of people that complemented the new less red color: 12

Which means, the red was awful. At least now I know.

Labels: beauty, hair, me

Bring your Mom to Work Day

Tuesday, March 03, 2009 by Bethany

Okay, not really. I don't know that my mom would enjoy a day at work with me. She's (happily) retired and my day is just too chaotic. Really. Just wait until I post about my morning routine. You'd want to run far (far) away from me too, if a switch-a-roo was in your future.

Anyway, back to my somewhat pointed point for the day, it was performance review time just a short time ago in the office. Not that it mattered much--raises are non-existent, so were any type of bonuses, and hell, even our 401K matching has been revoked. So, you say, what's to say about how your perform? Well, apparently something, as we had to jump through the hoops of having The Talk with the Boss and move along to making some sort of goals for next year.

We only made it through part 1. And if you knew my boss, this is no surprise. He has the gift of gab, and questions, and making sure he understands the details. All of which is good (really, I am not complaining), it just makes for long meetings. And if you want to cover anything--longer.... I digress. So, let's just pretend my mom is a fly on the wall for this year's performance evaluation. Just so you can see how she might interpret the chaos called my work day. (and hell, it is what I would likely really want to say if I could).

First my boss is over a 1/2 hour late. Yup. That is the norm too, so it makes it fun to wait for the right moment for it to happen. I know (and if you know my mom you'll know) this would drive her batty. It's not that she is inflexible, it's just timing is everything! And hell, he made an appointment, he should be on time right? I agree with you mom, he should be. But he's not, and we are already running up against my drop-dead-must-get-out-of-the-office-to-get-my-kids-from-day-care timeline. Anxiously, I pull my documentation (official word for printed paperwork from the computer database program that handles all this HR crap) and slap it on the table in front of him.

Now here's where it gets crazy. See, I didn't report to him til late last year. Which means, he didn't create these goals for me, nor did he want half of these goals for me, and he has opinions about these goals, future goals, and what I actually did last year. The discussion begins. Not going into detail here (I'll bore you even more), but let's get it into bullets --with parenthetical comments from Mom:

You picked up slack and came running full force into the end of the year. Even after all the craziness that went on here (MOM: Hell yes she did, she's my daughter what did you expect?)
I think you have a nice balance of working on projects and handing them off to others. Keep doing that and then some (MOM: More work? She can't come to our house to vacation without her computer and some phone call. Is that appropriate?)
Let's make sure that even though your plate is full with an abundance of projects that the quality stays high (MOM: How many projects are we talking about here?)
I'd love for you to be even more involved with the account teams, regions, and overall keep the strategy moving forward. Tell me what you need from me to make this happen. (MOM: How about a few extra hands?)
I'll look to you to continue to make more business decisions that make sense in these trying times--work on budgets, keep the deliverables cutting edge, and continue to deliver on time and under budget (MOM: And save the world?)

Now let me add here (because remember you are reading bullets, the conversation was actually a discussion. a long discussion...), that about now my phone is chirping with an alarm to tell me to go home RIGHT NOW so I am not late getting either of my children. But the review doesn't stop there.

(MOM: Did he not hear the alarm on your phone?)
Everyone knows you in the office--I love that I can send you into any meeting and you are fully armed to talk to your projects and some of mine. (MOM: Of course! Again, she is my daughter, you think she doesn't like talking to people?)
You've had many high profile projects this year (MOM: Did she get a raise for any of them?), and I need you to continue to delivery high quality work on those coming (MOM: Would you expect less?)
(MOM: Alarm! On your Phone!)
Your team works very well together, but we need to also look at how we can distinguish work between team members as well. I'd love to see how we can do that for 2009 (MOM: Can you interpret that into layman's terms? Working in a well-oiled machine is bad?)
Tell me what I can do better... (MOM: Hire more people. Get to meetings on time. And let my daughter GO HOME...)*

* Hear, Hear Mom!

This is the point that I hand him the goals I already toyed with for 2009 and say, "Hey, gotta run. Here's what I have so far for the next set of goals..."

"Let's discuss the first one..."

I agree that this is ideal. But I want you to tell me exactly how to make this an "Outstanding" rating. I want customer satisfaction ratings, data that shows this is the most read tutorial on the web... (MOM: And what, work til your fingers bleed?)
And let's add in some stretch goals. Things that are next to impossible to meet... (MOM: What so she fails? Oh wait, to thin her waist? HAHAHAHA!)
I'd also love if you picked up (MOM: Enough is enough...)

And to which my mom, if she were a fly on the wall would buzz around my head until I high-tailed my ass out of there. Her grand-babies, top priority, and I would be late.

Truth is, I was late getting the kids that day. Or at least my daughter by about 15 minutes. My sitter (bless her!) an angel and just played a few games of patty-cake and all was well. Enough for me to even get my son in a timely manner.

Was this performance review bad? No. Really it was fine. It could have been worse. Not that I did a thing that would cause for a bad performance rating. But really, how unmotivating can this economy be? Run your ass off, keep under budget, and then be told to do more?

Yes Mom, three cheers for me. I did great last year (just like the ole report cards). Yay! Too bad I get no extra green or titles to show for it.

Labels: life, me, working

When will I learn

Monday, March 02, 2009 by Bethany

On the weekends, it's all lazy in these parts. Pajamas all day, unless of course we are heading out for some fun and errands, showerlessness, crazy hair, nothing but grunginess.

Then our neighbors decide to stop by. With Lasagna. Not only is the dog barking to high heaven and the baby screaming. I am sporting a light colored shirt. With. No. Bra.

Labels: embarassment, life, me

I am the epitamy of a ragged Mom

Sunday, March 01, 2009 by Bethany

My daughter and I are having a bit of difficulty. I don't know that she is having as many issues as I am, but alas, there are tears on both ends and some loose nerves on mine.

The poor dear found herself the first in the family with the Nasty Cold of Winter 2008-09 in the past few weeks (who hasn't?). And it hung on, until we were all miserable. But through it all she demanded I hold her. And nurse her. Hold her some more. And then more holding. And well, I couldn't put her down for anything. Not even to sleep. The little clinger would either connect herself to my breast to "nurse" (and I do realize at this point it was for total comfort instead of nutrition) and/or scream bloody murder at the idea of me leaving her side. Even when I was miserably sick with a sinus headache that made me want to vomit and cuddle deep under the covers where I could hear not a peep from anyone. Including a screaming sickly baby.

At the tail end of that madness, saying we breezed through that cold is lying. I kicked and screamed as much as my daughter at what I had to go through to get better... and that included 2 days off of work. Which for most would mean they were getting better and resting. For me, meant I was at home with my sickly/screaming daughter just making it through the day without killing someone.

But this moodiness, this clinginess, this screaming? It's not just because she is sick. Really, it's been going on since December. Only difference is--when she is NOT sick, every now and again I get that giggle and smile that make me think that hey, carrying her on my arm 24 hours a day is just fine and perfect. I mean she is likely our last kidling, how bad can it be? Well. Try it for 3 days. Then 7. Then 20 and you tell me. It is nearing 60 or more days on this end, when you catch up tell me how you feel.

My husband (bless him) has tried. He's tended to her needs. Changed a diaper while she screamed for me, held her (literally for dear life) in the other room while I went to the restroom. Tried to comfort her at 2am and a myriad of other things. But all end in even more screaming, both parties being frustrated, and nothing close to relaxation for me. Right now, the only way to "get away" from it all, is to literally get away. Which, when you pay for a babysitter 5 days a week so you can go to a paying job, is hard to justify on the weekends. Not to mention, I pay for being away that extra day. Quite literally.

Saying my daughter is strong-willed, is an understatement. It is pure fact. And, hey, it is a lovely attribute, when it isn't intruding on my sanity. And that is exactly what it is doing right now. I need time for me. To recharge. Hell, I'd love to write and read and just take a bath. But at the moment, I just need breathing room. It's taken me over an hour to get this much of my thoughts written for this post because The Peanut has demanded my lap (to cuddle) and my breast (to nurse) and my heart (since she just doesn't give up).

Sure, sure my son had some of these same tendencies. But Dad could step in and entertain him for a 15 minute spell. And it lasted a few weeks here and there and suddenly he'd become independent and give me some relief. But this daughter 'o mine? Not happening. And here I was hoping for a Daddy's Girl.

It's not that I don't cherish moments with her--I do. I mean just this morning after a night of crying out every hour or so for no reason other than that she is developmentally working through something in her brain--she reached up, touched my cheek and when I opened my eyes, she grinned wide and said, "Mama." I melted. Just until she then screeched, "UUUUP!" and then kicked her feet furiously until I obeyed.

Parenting kicks your ass. It shows you how easy you had it before, but what wonderful creatures children are. You wonder how you lived life without them in your life, but in the same breath wait for a moment alone so you feel like your old self again. As much as I know it is "wrong" to complain about my children and husband in every breath--it's happening on most days. All because I just need a little room to be selfish. And, even though I've requested it through various angles, they always become foiled (this last time due to this sickness hell of the past month). I'm becoming monotonous. It's an old story--suburban mom worn out, tired, cranky, and selfish. But yet, it's consumed me to the point that I am just tired.

We went to an indoor water park this past weekend to rid ourselves of the winter blues. The plan was to spend the day splashing in the water, relaxing and pretending it was summer. Unfortunately, I felt nothing of the sort. I did rid myself of the overwhelming urge to plan and work through issues in the day job (which is the point of a vacation day), but spend most of the rest of the day chasing my 18-mo-old daughter from going too deep in the water, pulling her away from the "big kid" water slides, and then trying to warm her up from the chilled air (into the hot tub). The young toddler stage is always hard--the kids won't stand still for more than a minute--but I felt very little relax and have fun time. Hell, I got one water slide ride for a 2 and a half hour ordeal. Again, it isn't because the husband didn't try to amuse my daughter, nope, she just wanted to hang on my leg and then cry TO ME when she didn't get to follow her brother into the slide area.

But again, you see my point, I should have enjoyed the time, instead I felt myself trying not to become agitated. And my husband reminded me pointedly of my attitude when I was ready to bite my son's head off for pointing the water canon my way (thank God for husbands that tell you like it is). Sure in the end, I did relax a little. But I will admit, I was more thankful (and rested) when both kids fell asleep in the car on the way home. And that, to me, is pretty sad. And even more sad that a whole 40 minutes later, The Peanut back on my hip, was crying and moaning because her nose was draining and she didn't like any of the food I offered up to her.

I'd like to hope this is the start of the Terrible Twos a bit early. But in reality, I just know I have a strong-willed, stubborn, gonna-do-what-I-want sorta daughter. And, although, I think that is a good thing in the bigger picture of her life... right now, I just want a little down time from it all. I need all the rest I can get before she turns 13.

Labels: family, life, me, parenting, The Peanut

My Foot Secret

Saturday, February 21, 2009 by Bethany

For years I've covered my feet in boots, socks, running shoes, and everything that wouldn't show off my nasty nails and calluses that line my big toes and heels--unless I got one of my twice a year pedicures.

Pre-children, I did the pedicure thing a bit more often. I could afford it--financially and time-wise. But now that I have two urchins by my side, I am lucky if I can go to the bathroom without someone screaming or asking for another serving of chicken nuggets or another episode of Elmo. So, I forgo many things. Pedicures, regular hair cuts, coloring my ashen brown roots, and even semi-regular grocery store trips. But, I needed a solution for those damn calluses. And the fact that I hate wearing socks or slippers while roaming my house. And in the past year, we've had more visitors in our home, than in my entire 15 year relationship with my husband.

Thus, enter the Ped egg. Yes the damn thing works. I paid my entire $9.99 + tax at the local Walgreens and have never been happier with my purchase. In under 10 minutes, I had smooth feet. And in another 15 minutes, I'd painted my nails a nasty bright red (and I mean nasty in a good, sexy sorta way) and felt never better. I mean, smooth feet! It is heavenly. Now if I can spare a good 10 minutes every week...

Labels: beauty, life, me

There's a Time and Place for Everything

Thursday, February 19, 2009 by Bethany

Walking into the office. On concrete walkway. With at least a dozen people droning their own way into the office. And you, falling FLAT on your face? Not really the place. Or the time.

No, I wasn't carrying a coffee (which would be typical), nor did I tear/rip/split any part of my clothing. But the bright color red my face stayed for the entire morning (a co-working I work with daily was right behind me) didn't go well with my red hair or the meeting I was supposed to run 20 minutes later.

I'd like to blame the pavers on the walkway--but really it was my heeled boots and the damn dress pants. Teaches me a lesson--ALWAYS wear jeans. This would never have happened in a nice dark wash pair of jeans. Unless I'd had a good lot to drink that is.

Anyway, now that I have embarrassed myself for real and then online, let's move on to other topics. Like work. I can't blog at work people. As much as I would like to take the side of risk and blog here and there when I have a whole 10 minutes to spare (I don't smoke, so hey, it's my smoke break!), I don't have 10 minutes to spare. Except for those rare occasions I must use a restroom and say eat--I'm in constant meeting hell. And then there is the work that needs to be done. So, as my time is limited, thus my blogging. Which really sucks. I've been keeping a list of posts to post... it's now over 10 pages long of little bullet items to plug in here. Too bad I'll forget half of them by the time I find the time to post.

Which brings me to evenings. That's when I am getting any real work done. Or say, trying to be a parent. Or wife. Or something that isn't work related. Having trouble on that front as well (when aren't I?)--so balance is key. And I'm not finding the time for that. Or, evidently, a place. That being said, THIS WEEKEND (and I am willing to stake my life on it), the husband is going to take the kids. That's right, I'm forcing it upon him so I can get a moment of kid-free sanity. Hell, I might even write. But hopefully on a story and not the blog (sorry. Priorities, priorities). But maybe I can find 10 minutes then to at least post progress.

Happy Tripping People. And I don't blame you if you stop reading....

Labels: life, me

My Best Ideas

Monday, February 02, 2009 by Bethany

Are coming in the middle of the night.

Pre-children I'd just wake up in the middle of the night and either boot up the ole computer and type until my eyelids dropped or hand write it on the pad of paper I kept by the bed. But now? Well it isn't as glamorous or exciting. Hell, if I can pry my breast away from the wee one (yes she still nurses at night), I'd still attempt to write at least a bullet point of the idea out. But, it's really not possible. The noise (or typing clatter) might wake the youngest or hubby. Damn computer in our bedroom issue. Or the kid who can't be away from mom issue.

Either way, I've gotten a little creative. My cell phone--a Smartphone--never leaves my side (yes my phone charges on the bedside table and it's there and powered on throughout the night), and I've taken to typing a message to myself to keep the ideas flowing. Sure it takes five hundred more hunt-and-pecks to get the entire idea out. BUT, it's all electronic, can be sent to my email account, and if I was ambitious enough could be blogged instantly. But I still have a tiny issue. Even my phone has some key press clatter. And not to mention a backlight glow that could light a stage. And the seemingly craziness of me single-handily pecking out a few paragraphs at 2am....

But as a parent of young children who writes, it's the best I can do. And at least I am collecting all of those middle of the night ideas. Right?

Labels: me, writing, writing life

We Cosleep

Monday, January 26, 2009 by Bethany

This is no profound exclamation as you may remember we tried NOT to for the first two years of my son's life. Then caved (so to speak) and imagine our surprise when he immediately started sleeping through the night because he could roll over and touch me.

So with The Peanut, we've gone the other way... Bassinet when she was a wee thing then right smack dab in the middle of the king size bed. No quibbling. No pressure from family members to try to change our minds. And no first-time parenting guilt that we were doing the wrong thing. The baby slept fine, I slept better, and it all seemed fine and well.

Until she started kicking. And rolling havoc all over the bed. Her mind must be cranking away on some developmental milestone (or at least that is what I am leading myself to believe) because she can't make it a night without planting a heel into my side in one of her kicking fits.

You think I am kidding when I say "fit?" Well imagine a 16-month-old crying out, then lifting both legs as high as she can and "banging" them down into the bed--I mean really hammering them down" over and over and over and over again. Yup. That's my girl!

This was all normal for my son too. Though he didn't have so much of a fit, as a leg swing (imagine a high side kick). And I got used to a half-haze of rolling him back over, planting an arm over his legs so he wouldn't side kick me, and waking up in the midst of his middle of the night work out to just calm him down.

It is all normal I suppose. But now it is keeping me up. Because not only is she waking me, she is waking up the husband. Which, um, could be the worst possible thing to do (as a self-professed insomnia sufferer, this could cause him to be up the rest of the night). And here, I thought I'd never have issues sleeping... but it has caused a bit of insomnia with yours truly as well. Yup. She wakes me, I cause her stirring to subside and then I lie awake. Staring. Listening. Trying to think of anything to get me to sleep. Which only makes me think or work. Or the laundry that I need to do. Or going to the bathroom. And my now she wants to nurse again so I figuratively tied to the bed.

So, I am crossing fingers, toes and all appendages (at least virtually), this stage in her sleep habits will end as shortly as it came about. First, because we all want sleep. And secondly... can you imagine her ab muscles?... I just need to have a clear head in my mornings these days so I am not forgetting lunches, homework and all things important in running a household (and keeping a day job).

Labels: me, parenting, The Peanut

Don't tell...

Monday, January 19, 2009 by Bethany

I'm writing.

Well, not yet, but will be here shortly (and I think I might have just jinxed the ideas that are in the nether-regions of my brain). What is the occasion? A company holiday. And I was feeling guilty about taking this time for myself--instead of the laundry, the housecleaning, the odds-and-ends sewing that needs to happen, and well the trillion Mom or Wifely type things I COULD be doing right now. Until I realized....

I haven't written much for myself in over 6 months. It's about damn time I give myself a little down time. Or well, writing time, which for me is a bit of down time to escape the realities of life for a little while and reconnect with a dream.

So before my inspiration decides IT needs downtime, I'm going to get to it. And live life a little. Or write.

Labels: life, me, writing life

Resolution #1: I must become a regular blogger again

Wednesday, January 07, 2009 by Bethany

Seven days into the new year and I have yet to post? Ah, the conception of my number one resolution, becoming regular again (as in regular blogger you dirty minded people). *

And there is some truth to that. I had to give my "notice" this week for a writing gig that I love (over at Poshmama.com). My heart is torn to pieces because I love reading. And I love writing. And what better way to marry those to loves (writing book reviews). BUT, something had to give. I'm not writing anything else. And my day job is being all consuming (as always). For a couple years now, I said the job would get easier. I'd have more time. Once this last project (or this new project, or this next month, or when we change groups, or... you get the idea) was over and a myriad of other reasons. But guess what? It hasn't gotten easier. Or lighter. In fact, I think it has tripled in responsibility. So, what's the first to go? My writing time. Because it doesn't pay any financial bill.

I'd argue though that it pays an emotional bill of some kind. It lets me escape from the real world chaos and jump into fiction for a while. You know, a place where I control what goes on (that never happens in real life. In case you didn't know). If you know me, this emotional escape is something I need. At least for a few hours every week. And let me put it this way, the last time I was out BY MYSELF doing something FOR MYSELF was..... um before my daughter was born? Really, I don't remember. I had a work outing a few weeks ago--but as you can see, it was a WORK outing. Nothing like spending a few hours on my own getting a pedicure or absorbing more coffee to fuel my writing habit.

Anyway, this post isn't to bitch. It is more to say, I'm trimming down. I said no to an obligation. It's a shocker I know. Especially since it was one of the obligations I wish I didn't have to give up. But, it is what it is. I won't be running full time into writing fiction yet (not that I won't try to sneak in a few 100 words! I always try to do that!). I'm hoping to clean my hands of a few other of those smaller obligations as well. And THEN let my brain start wandering to a new book. On that has superheros. And romance. And life that is nothing like mine (oh, okay. Maybe a little bit. There'll be at least one kid in the book!). One that I can escape to just for a bit each night...

* Please note, a year ago I said I didn't believe in resolutions. Or maybe it was I didn't DO Cut me some slack, at least I am posting. And resoluting for something... maybe some good will come out of it? resolutions. Either way, it shows how much I sit on the fence. Or flip to the greener side.

Labels: holiday, life, me, writing

If I had a Wish...

Tuesday, December 30, 2008 by Bethany

We spent an hour today looking for a damn label maker. Ah, domestic bliss. This has what my days have come down to doing... wrestling kids, begging for another half hour of sleep, and digging in drawers, rifling through cabinets, and cursing the Gods of House Clutter, all in the name of finding a label maker to add signage to a new camera cord (because we have enough electronic cabling in this house to string up the cats and dog if we had too). But hey, at least we have some sort of bliss around here. FINDING the label maker (of course!) and 7 more days of vacation from the day job. It can't get any better around here. Unless of course...

- I was able to sleep in that extra 15 minutes
- I didn't feel guilty about spending the night out on New Year's Eve
- I got 2 hours of uninterrupted writing time (hint, hint) outside the 4 walls of my house
- My laundry was done
- And the vacuuming (and dusting and dishes)
- I had a personal chef for the rest of the vacation
- And of course I read a few more books so I felt caught up in the world of fiction

But, hey. Let's not get too carried away. The Label Maker is safely secure in it's preferred location and life can return to normal. Or at least letting my daughter watch the 3 minute video of herself over and over (and over) again on the plasma television. She's occupied and happy. And so am I.

Labels: holiday, life, me, vacation

With or Without Wireless

Friday, December 26, 2008 by Bethany

It's sad to say that it is 5pm the day after Christmas, I've been here all day long, and just now I realized our wireless was not "on" (the wireless access point had been turned off by our pesky new kitten). Never would have happened on any "normal" Friday. Since I'd have been working my fingers to the bone, taking conference calls, answering emails, and avoiding the latest work crisis. But today? I slid by the radar. And it's feeling pretty damn good.

Labels: life, me

When Santa Takes Over For the Day...

Thursday, December 25, 2008 by Bethany

...and sugar goodness like candy canes, chocolates, and a whole lot of toys. Happy Holidays. And of course, the goodness of children running through the house in bliss is nothing I'd trade for anything in the world.

May today bring you peace, serenity, chaos, kindness, and fun with you and yours.

Labels: holiday, me

I think I'm going to be sick

Wednesday, December 17, 2008 by Bethany

I'm feeling a bit queasy. It might be because the economy is in the shitter, I could lose my job at any minute, or the fact that hey, life with 2 kids is harder than I imagined. Or maybe it is because I haven't written a word of fiction in 3 months.

People ask me all the time how I find time to do everything. Work, clean house, parent, work more, write. And my standard answer is/was NOT sleep. It's true, I'd go to be later. I'd give up naps. I'd write until a few hours before I'd join a conference call with someone overseas. I gave up every free sleeping moment to write. At least before my daughter became the clingy 16-month-old that she is. Oh, and one that won't sleep a wink without me by her side. Thus, my sleeping time has increased--which overall is probably a good thing.

However, it also means the worst. Writing is NOT happening. And it does have me more than a bit sick to my stomach. Because when I used to be able to make up that time over "writing lunches," or 15 minute breaks throughout my day--well, those just aren't possible anymore. My day job has me running--literally--all day long. My daughter is tied to my hip. And my son is keeping me on my toes. I'm basically stretched more over my limit than I ever have been. But not doing what I love. Which means, I am re-evaluating life yet again. Goals. All the crap that sounds like I watch Oprah too much and actually take inspirational books to heart. But yet, it's all I can do to continue to write. Otherwise, I'll be sick to my stomach.

Labels: life, me, writing, writing life

Missing You

Tuesday, December 16, 2008 by Bethany

I went to college at a University that had a 3:1 ration--in the women's' favor. So, to make things fair since they had no suites for housing, they did male floors and female floors. However, since the ratio was a little slanted, my floor had half women and the rest men and community bathrooms. One bathroom was for us women, and of course the other for the men.

All in all this arrangement was just fine. Except when my grandfather came to visit and had to walk past the men's *side* of the floor and there were geeky engineering type boys leaving the restroom/showers in just bath towels and his first grandchild only lived 4 doors down the hall. You'd think the world ended... or the realization that I had suddenly become an adult. Either way, the scenario that unfolded was more than a bit embarrassing. I don't know it was either is authoritative demand, "Boys, clothing is NOT optional once you leave the lavatory. Get some clothes on." Or maybe it was when he shoved the guy from my Biology 1o1 class back into the bathroom door with his jacket in his face with an order to "put it on over that damn towel" that had me cowering in the corners of the hallway.

Sure, sure, it was all for my safety and his peace of mind that those boys could be trusted in the dormitories of the college that was known for binge drinking and parties. Or maybe it was so that he could show that he still had some balls. I mean, he was 70, I can imagine that he wanted to throw some weight around right? Sure. If he didn't decide to show up EVERY Saturday morning before dawn with the idea that I might want breakfast. Not that I didn't want it. As a poor college student, I loved the idea. Just not before Noon. And he always happened to call around 8am.

Funnier yet was the fact that when I finally got the hint--groggy phone calls and groans from myself over having him wait in the lobby for over a half hour for me to get my ass out of bed--he decided to arrive later. Thus, seeing the parade of boys (or half-men as he called them) strolling out of the community bathrooms in wrapped towels and a glisten of the morning shower.

Anyway, this whole sudden realizement of my grown up state changed things between him and I. It became more official and more grown up. He expected me at family dinners, to still treat him with respect, but also share with him "deep" thoughts beyond what my favorite celebrity of the moment was. And at the same time, he welcomed me into a bit of a grown up world, with nothing more than a smile and a nod. Especially when I brought my now husband (then only-a-friend) over for Easter Dinner. With a firm hand shake he asked the normal questions-- what's your major? Where you from? What's your life ambitions? And then when I left the room he asked the tough ones--Do you plan to date her? Why? You better stay true to her, my boy...

Ah, Grandpa. You were one of a kind.

Labels: death, life, me

Can't even hear a mouse...

Tuesday, December 02, 2008 by Bethany

Yesterday was strange. As in, it was my first day "back from vacation," we had some snow fall during the night that caused the 2 minute drive to the elementary school to be an adventure, which lead me to work from home on a Monday (unusual) and my kids were once again in someone else's care.

...

Yup. It was strange. Being at home. After a vacation of driving over 800 miles round trip. And staying in family homes in weird sleeping arrangements. And holidays jammed in (Thanksgiving and 2 birthday parties for my son). Missing the cat we had for 14 years the died just before we left. Feeling that cold nag at the back of my throat. Not a kid in sight or within hearing (or crying distance). Normally, I let that time sink in and savor it. Take deep cleansing breaths of child-free air and let myself be me. But yesterday? It was awfully quiet. Too quiet. Can I have my crazy holiday frenzy back?

Labels: life, me

All things disalike are alike all the same

Tuesday, November 18, 2008 by Bethany

My daughter's got the biggest smile with matching curls. My son has the innocent, wide eyes that tell you what he's feeling in his soul. Almost six years apart, but still alike in ways that are unimaginable and quite conceivable at the same time.

I mean, their love of music and all things animated is definitely something they gathered from their father. The sensitiveness. The joy of just being silly? Also their father.

From me? Maybe their stubbornness. Or, so I am told, my daughter's twinkle in her eye. I can't see as much from me as what they have gotten from their Dad. But, this is a good thing. I worry they might get the worst of me.

Labels: life, me, motherhood

Sick Days and Reality Television

Saturday, November 15, 2008 by Bethany

In the last few blurry weeks my house has fell ill. Kids have had double ear infections, chest infections, single ear infections, stomach viruses, and all the odds and ends that come with fall time and children in school/day car. All of that means that of course, mom gets sick some point along the way. And of course that landed sometime last week.

So, while still recovering from an intimate night with me and the porcelain goddess, I stayed home from work. Alone. Yep. After hauling my ass off to school to drop him off (and weakly stumbling across the walkway to get him there) and then bringing my daughter to the sitter's for her normally schedule day, I went home and crawled into bed. For four glorious hours. Sure, it was all recovering from the night before, but it was still something I rarely enjoy. Too bad I had to be barfing up the last 2 weeks of meals to get the pleasure. And then I sat down for a little day time television.

Normally, if it isn't Spongebob or Yo Gabba Gabba! to keep the kids occupied (or football/basketball for the husband), I might toss on a home improvement show. Or say, some fashion related thing that keeps me mildly entertained while I read. Or surf the web with my trusted laptop. But that day, sick and all, I decided to land on reality television. I found myself absorbed in a marathon of The Real Housewives of Atlanta.

Can I first just say--what the hell? Seriously. These women have children? Or at least 2 of them do--they show these glamor shots of them smiling and all cute, but um, WHERE THE HELL ARE THEY with all these nights out and drinks with girlfriends in parking lots? Of course, my confusion and awe at the whole lifestyle that is so foreign to me did nothing to stop me from watching. Three hours, a few glasses of iced 7-Up and more moments of yelling at the television later, I was still entranced. But the point is--Never. In my life. Can I imagine a life like that. And (this is a close second) how did these women end up married to these men? I mean, what kind of money do they make to by a $5000 handbag!?!?! Seriously. What did I do wrong in my life to have to worry about when money comes in? Can someone tell me? Because I went to college, found a decent career, and it still feels like I am barely making it some days. And these women can't even decipher that 1/3 of a pizza is MORE than a 1/2 of a pie. And that, you know, you spell cat with a 'c,' not a 'k.' It is frightening.

But maybe it is more frightening that in over 2 weeks that I have been living the crazy life of a working mom that THIS is what I come back to blog about.

Labels: life, me, sickness

Ding Dong the Witch is Dead...

Sunday, October 26, 2008 by Bethany

Okay, I don't know any witches. But it' Pseudo-Halloween here. Yep, kidlings of all shapes and sizes are costumed up and knocking on my door tonight. Honestly, next weekend would make it feel more real, but what can I do. I'm not the Halloween Queen. I just hand out candy while The Husband takes the kids for the cold (and windy) walk. And I get interrupted every 5 seconds by a pound on the door or a door bell ring.

But here's the thing, since when:

- do children ring the doorbell 5 times in a row
- or ring with a 5-Mississippi second pause between the two. Do I not walk from my couch to the door fast enough?
- request a different kind of candy from my cauldron then what I givingly hand out?
- ask for different candy than what I have?
- or have 5 bags of candy and claim it is for sisters/brothers that are no where to be seen behind them?
- or ring my bell 20 minutes BEFORE (or AFTER) trick or treat time?

Really. I don't consider myself old fashioned--but never in my thirty-ish year life would I do any of the above. I mean, it's trick or treating. You have a bag full of candy that you never eat all of anyway. What does my measly candy make a difference if you don't like it? AND, damn, I never realized I was that slow on the candy brigade. Maybe next year I'll have to stop cheating on the candy eating a week ahead of time.

Labels: children, holiday, me

Highlights

Monday, October 20, 2008 by Bethany

And I'm not talking hair here people.

Okay, maybe I will. Just for a second. Because I can't be the only mom on the planet that did her own highlights yesterday. And not yesterDAY really, but more like yesterNIGHT. Near 11pm to be exact. And finished washing it all clear and clean a whole 30 seconds before her daughter started screaming and then promptly vomited everywhere--can I?

Aside from the vomit, who in the hell highlights, and then continues to style, their hair at near midnight? Apparently I do. I'm afraid to admit it's a common occurrence in these parts because I'm too cheap to have someone else do my hair. And really, who has the time? I'd love to say my husband graciously offers to watch the kids for 3 hours while I go to a posh salon and enjoy some down time. But if I said that, I'd be lying. Lying through my teeth to be exact. It took me some crab-assing to get a whole half hour to run down the street to the Great Clips on Sunday. And we almost didn't make it before closing. Mind you, that was EVERYONE. Since, you know, right after the hair cut I had to man-handle my daughter to sit still while we wandered Target for toilet paper and Q-tips. But that's another story.

Let's see... highlights. Oh yes. My weekend in a highlight reel. You already got last night's spectacular run down. Try Friday to match it. The same daughter that vomited, started out sickly too when she had a double-ear infection diagnosed. Not because she looked sickly, had a fever, or was coughing like there was no tomorrow (that would be too easy). But because she awoke with eye drainage. Just like earlier in the week. Hauling her into the doctor's office was my brilliant idea (for once), and look at that! She was indeed sick. Though not acting a thing like it. Then again, she couldn't hear a damn thing.

Next up is Saturday's greatness. And really, it kinda was. We did the soccer thing in the morning. Spent the afternoon outside in the goodness called fall (the fall days I like, 70 degrees and sunny) and then ate a dinner out of the house. Which meant I didn't have to lift a finger. Which always means I love it. Except for the whole diaper blow out episode (damn Augmentin antibiotic! Why must you cure the ailments of sick child but cause serious diaper episodes?).

And then we are back to Sunday. Which means highlights, puking, a couple loads of laundry at 1am and then again at 3am. Happily, I'll report, we just had one incident Le Barf. Drawback was that I couldn't get any shut-eye thereafter. I kept waiting for her to spew again. And then The Kiddo started coughing. It just never ends. Except for when you have to awake for a day at the office. Which brings me to today. Another Monday.

Labels: life, me

My Life in Repeat

Monday, October 13, 2008 by Bethany

I'm doing it again. The whole get up, get dressed, get kids up, ready, eat (maybe), coffee, rush out the door, school, day care, work, pick up from school, day care pick up, make and eat dinner, bed time routines all around--rinse, and repeat. Over and over and over again.

Guess it's good things are worse. Because they could be (don't even get me started on the economy nightmare). Or even better (can anyone whisper the word w-r-i-t-i-n-g?). But I guess the in between isn't so bad. I mean, I know what tomorrow is going to be like. So what' the big fuss?

It's the fact that it feels just a wee bit like a rut. One that when I desperately try to find a way out, I just get jammed right back in my place. Like this weekend. When the wee one, The Peanut, awoke with crud in her eyes and landed us in the doctor's office and a prescription for eye drop antibiotics for some minor conjunctivitis. Then, I was rushing both of our asses back across the state border for the weekend soccer game. Again. And well, repeat. Lunch afterward. Home for laundry. House or yard work. Naps. Snacks. Television. Walks. Dinner. Bedtime. You get the idea. It's all the same. Even when you throw in a family outing or two.

Sigh. They say children love routine. Maybe they do. But me? I'm dying for something just a bit out of the ordinary.

Labels: life, me

Pen and Paper, Paper and Pen

Tuesday, October 07, 2008 by Bethany

As a writer, I think pen and journal fetishes are a required attribute. Or maybe not fetishes, but whorish collective tendencies (at the very least)? Regardless, I would probably categorize myself with both. I buy pens when I don't need them because they just "feel right" in my hand. Or look cute. Or just need to be purchased so that I can write something new. And the same pretty much applies to notepads, journals, and stationary. I have boxes of all of the above lying around my house (well now in the basement in "my" corner).

But even with all of that said--I found myself at Target this afternoon in a tizzy over finding the right pen and paper to write. Again, this behavior isn't uncommon for me in GENERAL, but over the last few months, I've barely written a blog entry worth reading. So to go to the store for the primary purpose of finding a pen and paper to WRITE ANYTHING is a big deal. And for whatever reason, when I do make the purchase, I find a way to link to my muse and write.

And so I did. For a whole 15 minutes over lunch. But it isn't the time (or quantity or quality) of what I wrote that we should be focusing on here. It's the fact that I let myself write longhand--which I rarely do, my laptop and typing fingers are the way my muse usually connects--and that I was able to invent and idea that is interesting. So much so, it might become my next book. It has potential. And possibilities. And life. And characters that made me smirk, giggle, and coo over almost in the same breath.

This is when I get inspired and feel I can really write a book that will see a book shelf aside from my own. I get tingly and sit up late at night pondering plot points and paragraphs of back story that I'll eventually erase from the story line. THIS is when I start dreaming of my characters.

All that crazy writer stuff? I've desperately missed having in my live over the past 6 months. I WANT to want to write. And I wanted a story and characters that kept my wandering brain occupied. Now, I find that it's happened... the moon and stars have aligned. Pray that they keep me occupied, or I might start writing blog post long-handed as well!

Labels: life, me, writing

Being Mom

Sunday, October 05, 2008 by Bethany

Everyone says my daughter has my eyes. "Smiling Eyes" is what they call them--and they are adorned with a bit of a mischievous twinkle and a shape to them that shows she's nothing but a handful of joy (and emotions that I didn't experience to the fullest with my son).

It's funny. I see the twinkle. And I see the air of mischievousness in them. And man, when she smiles, I see it in her eyes. But do they look like me? These days, my eyes look everything tired. And older than they have in years. It might be the lack of sleep. The stress of work. Or the entanglement of all of the family schedules into one and my frustration (and exhaustion) of trying to pull all of them together into one cohesive unit. Either way--I'm wondering what else I have passed on to my daughter. If I indeed have these eyes, I hope they are one of the good things I've passed along. As I have a whole slew of traits I hope she doesn't catch on.

My self-consciousness could be tossed out the window. I want her to be confident and sure of herself and her skills. There is nothing I could be more proud of--a daughter that knows she's got the right stuff and learns from others (that last part can be hard, but I hope that she is humble too). I also hope she stops and "smells the roses" from time to time. Being an eldest child, I rushed life. I wanted to be 15 when I was 12. And 21 when I was 18. During that whole wish to be older thing, I think I missed some of the better parts of my life. Or at least sped by them as fast as possible so I could move on to what I thought would be a better time for me. It was... but every year we grow older, we lose some of the innocence and naivety of the past. AND that, my friends, sucks. Naivety can be a good thing sometimes. It lets you be free. Enjoy the moment and easily ignore what could be a downfall. The current predicament I find myself in now.

I've gotten more responsibility at work than I ever wanted. Really. I was happy staying at the current ladder rung I was assigned. Working my damnedest and being the best I could be. There. No higher and no lower. That way, I could focus on family (now with one more). And write. And spend time doing things I love. But (there's always one). Life had other plans. Now, I find that I have a To Do List piling up higher than before and less energy to deal with the important things. And here I am, still working through it to do the best that I can do. For work. Another trait that does well for a career--but is it the best for family and home? How about the self?

I'm not knocking the job. I have one. As stable as it can be in these times. Overall, I even enjoy it. But I wonder if I dedicate too much of myself (my true self) to this job. This career. That really, in tough times, could be dropped at any moment (it is business after all). And then what will I have left? No one will remember me as that great employee. They remember good people. People that defied odds. That went after something with the heart and gut. Not a Corporate Ladder Climber that found herself in a great position. Or is this just me?

What I'm getting at (long-winded of course), is that I want my daughter to have a sense of self AND a sense of balance. I don't think I ever have had a clear sense of either. Maybe until now or not ever. I mean, we can "give it all we have" in any profession and even as a mother. But, is that really a sense of self? Not in my book. We need to reach for dreams we've always had. New ones that come to us in our daydreams. And we need to balance it with all the other important things in life--friends, family, self, health. It's a shame I am worried I won't be able to instill this into my daughter. Or that I am worried I will fail at it. But I look at my son now, and at 5 years old, he's got balance down. All you really care about is yourself and your immediate family (which is the important stuff in that part of your life) All those other variables don't exist yet. But I see them. I see school intruding. And his hesitancy in participating because he doesn't know if he can do it well enough. As a mother, my worry is starting. I want him to be HIM.

To laugh, to draw, to reach for the impossible. Just like my daughter. Just like I wanted to do when I was 5. Or 12. Or 18. Or 22. But what happens, is the dream I had when I was 12, gets molded differently because of a comment or judgement from another. And by the time I was 22, the dream changed. Not deep in my heart, but in the logical part of my brain. And I never want to be the one imposing those other variables to my children. Especially to my daughter. Because, let's face it, she'll probably be the most like me. Or face at least similar challenges that I have. She'll be a woman one day too. And that is something, I can't share with my son.

Labels: life, me, motherhood, The Kiddo, The Peanut

It's October and that means Scary!

Tuesday, September 30, 2008 by Bethany

It's become quite the topic around these parts--costume choices for Halloween. My son, now old enough to pick his suite of choice has deemed himself Darth Vader. Seeing as Santa prized him with a light saber last Christmas that can change from blue to red (and vice versa), all he needed was the black outfit, cape and mask. Which, we purchased this weekend. All fun, until I realized, that if we were an adventurous bunch, we could be a themed Halloween family this year for the first time EVER.

The Husband had vouched for Boba Fett, my daughter with curly hair in pig tails would be Princess Leah and me? Well I could be Chewbakka or some female character you can find--because holy hell, we'll all be happily "together" for once. (Previous years when The Kiddo was a whole 1 year of age, and The Cat in the Hat, I dressed as Thing 1. And Thing 2 didn't appear. My husband would have nothing to do with the red sweatsuit or blue hair. Damn him!) Anyway, it would be perfect if we had somewhere to go aside from the Trick Or Treating. Because well, one of us has to stay home and hand out hoards of candy of course, what could would being a themed family if one of us wasn't there?

Sure, sure we did get one Halloween invite. Problem is, it is over 2 hours from our house. And starts at 8pm. And when you have children under 4 at that time of night, as a mother, you are likely not to have a bit of fun. Especially when the family having the party are childless (no child toys, no rooms for them to sleep, and no idea what you put up with with a child in costume). So, so, so... well, it means nowhere to really, so why spend the mountain of cash on themed outfits?

As you can tell, I'm a bit peeved by the whole thing. Not because of the party so much as not getting a chance to throw on some costume and become someone else for a few hours (even if I was some tall thing that groans in fur). It's fun people! Really it is. And I haven't dressed up since my Glinda the Good Witch outfit for the party with my son (when he was 3)! It was so much fun. Even if I was the only mom who ventured into any outfit at all and had every little girl in the room following me around asking to hold my wand.

Labels: holiday, me, The Kiddo

Toddling Around

Sunday, September 21, 2008 by Bethany

I'm starting over. Figuratively and literally. Not only am I a mom to a new 1-year-old (my daughter is completely different than my son at this age), I'm so totally not prepared for this work/writing/life somersault I am riding right now. So, I'm starting over. Learning new limits. Setting limits I never dreamed I would do before. And trying to remain calm and flexible (even when it seems impossible).

Case in point--today marks another soccer game for my son (we had one yesterday). He's got his damn asthma cough that surfaces with every cold he's ever congested. So, we're not going. That's right, the game is 8 minutes in already and my ass is in the chair in my office/bedroom while he plays with his sister on the floor down the hall. I felt guilty for an entire half hour and then realized, I've dealt with this asthma thing for 4 years. I know what my son's habitual sicknesses are like--and right now, he's on the fence. And so is this infection. Sure, he'd likely play a decent game of soccer, but next week, I'd spend 3 days at home with him giving routine breathing treatments and making sure he lays low. That would be his first (and then second and third) absence from school. Not making for a decent record in his first month of school. So, I made the choice, as a mother, to keep him from playing soccer.

Second example--this writing thing. I'd tried to schedule 2 hours of "away" time for today to go somewhere and write (or have The Husband take the children away from here so I could write). It's after 5 o'clock. I can guarantee you, that writing time won't happen. Am I disappointed? Sure. Always am, since my time always gets shifted because the lawn needs to be mowed, or we had errands to run, or because someone needs a computer fixed. But, in the end, I'll get that time back one way or another. It's called Baby Steps. If I keep getting angry or filling up with disappointment, when I *do* get to write? Well, I'll be spending the entire time virtually venting instead of writing the good stuff. So, I'm learning to let go. And start over. Here's my list of starting over endeavors:

- new book (the old one is stale. New projects get me charged up--so taking a cue, I'm starting anew)
- attempting to not eat out for 2 weeks. And if that works, well, we'll make it longer
- dropping half the soda I drink for water
- walking my son to school 3 out of the 5 days a week (right now I am at 2 days a week. The ones I don't work out of the office).
- letting go of the craziness of work. You know, leaving it at the office instead of at home

And hell, I am sure there are 15 more things I could add to this list. But overall, I'm trying not to get so worked up (and stressed out) over the small things. Taking it slow, steady, and calmly. Sorta like my daughter. When she doesn't desperately want something that is.

Labels: life, me

The Other Side of the Fence

Wednesday, September 17, 2008 by Bethany

It's funny how I dream of life without having a day job. Of spending endless hours with my children and having one less schedule to schedule. Of writing when the baby naps instead of squeezing in conference calls and work projects. And being able to volunteer at my son's school in the middle of the day. Or take a child or pet to the vet without adjusting my schedule in more than 300 ways. Or taking a mid-afternoon nap WITH the baby instead of, well, work.

Even the thought of having a morning where I am not rushing from school drop off, to sitter drop off, to the drive to work, to one of many meetings I have throughout the day. And then getting everyone home and fed to only turn on my computer to file a few more emails away for the night. Work ones.

Only, just this past week, I saw a once co-worker who DID quit her job to stay home with her 4 kids. And you know what she said to me? "Don't quit." Then she squeezed one of her twin daughter's hands, grinned at me and added, "Ever." I wanted to think she was kidding. But as she smiled wide in something a bit crazed, she motioned for me to call her. Soon. As if that would explain everything. Including her brazen appeal for me to never quit my job.

I'm no idiot. Being home all the time... no income, no distractions, it would be anything but easy. At least after the first few months. But I dream of a day when I don't have that corporate job for those other reasons. The writing reasons. And I can't help but keep dreaming of them. Because it's what keeps me writing right now. Or at least dreaming of a more balanced work/life balance. And I can't give up that dream when I am in the midst of chaos, can I?

Labels: balance, life, me, parenting, working

I've been around

Sunday, September 14, 2008 by Bethany

Really. I'm not dead. I've spent a night out drinking more glasses of wine than I have consumed in one year and I'm still paying for it. I've spent more hours in a car than one should in a given week. I've gained more responsibility at work that I care to even think about. And I'm considering weaning the Peanut sooner rather than later. I haven't lost a single pound (maybe gained a few). And I bought a new shirt at Old Navy because I just wanted a new one. That should be enough to catch us up on the 8 missing days of posts.... right?

Now that I got all that out of the way, I can give you the real scoop. The crap that I've been avoiding. I'm tired and still overwhelmed. That revelation no surprise to you? Me either. But I do know that the fact that I am not writing (and apparently drinking) is in direct correlation to the amount of tired and overwhelmed I am feeling. And it is a vicious cycle. For anyone that has tried to do something outside your comfort zone and takes a TON OF TIME... well you know you have to be dedicated. You have to love it. And, by God, you have to make room for it in your life. And as of tonight, I haven't written a word in my novel in over 2 months. Maybe 3 if I am truthful about it. And it is killing me. Slowly. Softly. And hell, I cried a few tears over it last night at the bar (damn it! A crying drunk!).

But that embarrassment proves one thing. It really is bothering me that I am not writing. And I need to do something about it. Anything. So that I am not a blubbering idiot next time the Hubby and I decide to pay a sitter and go out (and have the Wine Flights at the local pub). Seriously people. By how much more did my geek factor climb because I was weeping over not writing at a bar? A BAR! [shaking my head] No need to tell me, I know how it sounds. And, regretfully, I know how it looks. Thank God my husband is also one who believes in dreams. And gets me. So, he just bought me a shot, gave me a hug, and told me he loved me. Then, as quick as I took that shot, I told him we needed to go home before I got sick.

So, today, after a bottle of ibuprofen and a long afternoon nap with the baby to rid myself of a hangover, I'm writing. Not the book (hell, that's too much effort. I'm still recovering!). But at least a blog post. And a book review. I'm dusting off the virtual files for the book. So tomorrow, I can make grand plans. And write. I hope. But, let's not let the doubt creep in. That just makes for more pressure. And right now, my head has all the pressure it can take (hangovers are a bitch).

Labels: life, me, writing

New Experiment Part 1

Tuesday, August 26, 2008 by Bethany

I've shared it once, if I have shared it 1oo times, I'm addicted to coffee. Specifically if it is made for me at any of the 100 coffee joints within a 10 mile radius of my house and handed out in one of those paper cup thingies with the lid. That's right, I spend the $4+ dollars almost daily to get it handed to me out a window and into my car. It's a habit I can't deny. Particularly when I am dragging my ass into the office (which is more and more these days). BUT today (well this weekend), I am on a mission to change that.

I bought myself a new espresso maker for my kitchen counter. Yup. Had one before. Was great. But decided to upgrade. Mostly because I just kept thinking about the sale Nespresso had going on and was dying for a new machine. One I didn't have to stand by while dripping the sweet caffeine from the spout into a teeny tiny cup that I would then transfer to another cup and then whoosh loud noise of steam and wake one of the two children in my house (not to mention the conference call factor). So, I caved. Err, well bought a birthday present (Happy Birthday to me!) and now all is well in the world. That is, if I can kick the coffee drive thru habit.

And then I decided I'd force myself into making that espresso machine (and accompanying AEROCCINO milk frother) pay for itself. No more drive thrus. No more made-for-me mochas. I'd make them at home each and every morning. EVEN when I was driving that God Awful Drive to work. For a week. Then a month. And then... well, maybe only treating myself once in a while to the Drive Thru Heaven.

I've survived 2 days. Almost caved at lunch when my eyelids just wanted to drop from pure exhaustion, but I kept good to my word. And my pocketbook. Just waited til I got home and gave myself an after work treat. So, until next week, I'll keep you posted. Then maybe for part 2 of this little game, I can give up going out to eat but once a month.

Labels: coffee, life, me

Birthdays and Blogging Breaks

Saturday, August 23, 2008 by Bethany

It's been normal around here. Which means chaotic, exhausting, fun, exhilarating, and a whole bunch of routine. Oh and a birthday thrown in. Mine.

No. No parties. No alcohol. No fancy dinner. Just me, the kids, conference calls, emails, dinner, and a bit of off-key singing and a cake that my son decorated with these cool new pen cake decorating things. Seriously, nothing says I Love You, like a cake that says, "I (heart) U Mom" written in a 5 year old hand writing. It melts me as I recall it's half-eaten state right now. It was a simple birthday, but one that was bitter sweet. It made me remember what was important--and it sure ain't the pile of work that I did for the bulk of the day.

Which brings me to my two-bit blogging break. Yeah. It's been like that lately. I can't take a piss in my very own bathroom without interruption, so blogging has been the secret step child I haven't had time to care for. Thus some vacation days. There's gonna be more folks. It can't be helped. I'd explain more, but I'd have to kill you. Let me just whisper, "Day Job and Employment I Would Like To Keep" really softly. Sorry. Can't say more. But know I am working through it. Somehow.

So now it's almost 11pm and I'd rather be in bed sleeping than do anything else. The glories of infant motherhood. Oh and almost a Kindergartner. That's another post in the making that I am sure will appear in the next week. The Kiddo's first day of school. First. Day. Ever. A whole week away. I'll either be cheering and dancing down the street. Or in the fetal position at the school doors all day long. Place your bets now--as it's any one's guess at the moment.

Until I find the time to write that reflective post, or get a whole 10 minutes of down time, I bid you adieu.

Labels: birthdays, blog, life, me

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.

Labels: life, me, working, writing

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.

Labels: life, me, writing, writing life

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.

Labels: Food, life, me, reviews

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.

Labels: life, me, motherhood, parenting, The Kiddo

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.

Labels: life, me

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.

Labels: life, me

Sometimes I'm a bad daughter

Tuesday, August 05, 2008 by Bethany

I forget birthdays, anniversaries, special holidays... and overall, I just get caught up in my life. If you get a card from me in a timely fashion for a special date. Consider yourself a lucky one. I'm not that put together most of the time. Ask my parents.

Last year alone I forgot my mom's birthday (which is the day after my wedding anniversary), my dad's birthday, their anniversary, my sister's day of birth and countless other odds and ends that didn't require me to RSVP an invite (and I probably missed a few of those). Sue me. I'm not that kind of person I guess. I mean--I call you right (most of the time)?

Today, it was an exception. It's my parent's wedding anniversary and I prepared. Last week I put an appointment in my calendar to call them. To send a card. And to do all the things a good daughter should. And guess what? I delivered.

Only there's one problem. The card didn't arrive yet (5 days and counting) and the phone call ended with a cheery voice mail.

So, Mom... Dad, if you're reading. I love you. Happy Anniversary. Boy I'm glad you decided to get married. Because now I'm here. And you're still together. Love you both.

Labels: family, holiday, life, me

Life's a Beach!

Monday, August 04, 2008 by Bethany

So, yes, we went to the beach this past weekend. And it was glorious. But let me get one thing straight--I considered not going with the rest of the family. And admittedly, it was due to the way I look in a swim suit.

I could go on and on about how I just had a baby 11 months ago, or how work has been pretty stressful and unimaginably busy, or the fact that I have wanted to give up soda for an entire year but just haven't because my will power is akin to that of a child reaching for candy (impossible to break)--but instead it is what it is.

I have cottage cheese thighs that rub together when I wear a skirt. A chest that falls out of any normal low cleavage shirt, and rolls that almost always tend to fall over the waistline of my pants. My swimsuit likely cinches me in ways that aren't right and that don't look so hot. But should I deprive my kids of the fun loving mom that I am? Hell no. The beach, my husband, and my 2 kids were ready to head to the sun and sand... and I decided to high tail it behind them. It is my summer (and their childhood memories) too!

I remember summer camping trips as a kid where my mom layered herself in wraps and swim suit cover ups for the very reason I considered not join in on the summer fun. She avoiding trips into the water to save her hair or make up. She said she enjoyed the feeling of the sun and the good book that was by her side. As the Blanket Watcher--book and soda in hand she watched us all splash up a bunch of fun. Did she just not like water? Maybe. Was swimming not her thing? Not as much as it was to a bunch of kids. But, maybe, like me, not wanting to put her body on display.

She wasn't overweight. She wasn't embarrassing. And by all means, she was my mom. And I would have much rather had her in the water splashing, swimming, giggling, and having good time with us in the sun than sitting on the blanket. No matter what she felt about herself. But, I do recognize her behavior now as something akin to my own. Especially because, for more than a few minutes (almost an hour), I made up excuses in my head for why I wasn't going to be headed to the beach with my son and husband: I had to stay home with the baby! Oh look at me, I can't head to the beach like this! The swimsuitness isn't quite fitting me right still! It's too hot! It's not my thing today! My time of month (never mind I'm still nursing. Which means... oh you get the idea)! I had the excuses lined up by the mile--until....

My son looked up at me and asked when we were leaving. Because, I couldn't move fast enough for this afternoon of fun. And he needed sunscreen. And who was going to put some on his back and the scar near his right eyebrow (Dad apparently, doesn't do it well enough)? Or who's back would he swim on when Dad went for a small swim without him. Or just have a ton of fun with a beach ball he wanted to buy. Or say, teach him how to float on his back without freaking out? Any good mom would do that right?

Or at least a mom that could throw her own low self-image issues aside to have a fun day at the beach with her family? Because, as experience shows, he's not going to remember me as being the overweight one. I'd have been the one in the water having a good time with him.

Labels: life, me, motherhood, weight

Who said Friday's can't be as much fun as Saturdays?

Friday, August 01, 2008 by Bethany

After a late night working, waking with the 11-month-old at 5am, a headache, sore throat, and multiple phone calls and emails, The Husband and the best idea ever: "leave" work early and head to the beach (metaphorically leave the office of course, I was working from home).

Really, all he would have had to do was wink at me suggestively and I would have done anything he said--but the beach? He was sent to me by a God, I am sure if it. Faster than fast, I sent those few more e-mails, collected swim suits for all involved, towels, snacks, sun tan lotion, and a whole lot of sand toys and we were off.

It was excellent. No crowds. Excellent afternoon weather. Warm water. And my daughter completely enamored with the idea of a gigantic bath tub OUTSIDE. She didn't know what to do with herself. Much like The Kiddo, that could barely step out of his sandal and T-shirt to bound into the water.

Sadly, I'll admit this is our first beach trip this summer. And it's August. And I'm the worst parent ever to not get into the fun of all of this until now. But dammit, I've been busy. But dammit, we're doing it again. Maybe tomorrow. Or next weekend. Or sometime. It was just heavenly. Even with the headache that just won't go away. And the sore throat that is hanging tight. But it was nothing a little sun couldn't make me ignore for a couple hours this afternoon.

Mark my words... best Friday ever.

Labels: Happiness, life, me, parenting, The Husband, The Kiddo, The Peanut, working

Corporate Slacker Wanna Be

Wednesday, July 30, 2008 by Bethany

I almost deliberately skipped a meeting today. Almost. But then I just couldn't do it. It must be the responsible, reliable person I am. Or the stupid one. Because dammit all to hell if I didn't get slammed with more action items than the team holding the meeting. I hate when that happens.

Labels: me, working

It's all about the Hair

Tuesday, July 29, 2008 by Bethany

For the first time in over 12 years, I've been the recipient of a hair cut I love. Not just LOVE, adore. Seriously people, if you could see it. Even with a few double chins and some excess flab around the cheekbones, I can't stop myself from checking it out in each and every mirror I walk by. And to think, it was pretty much a fluke thing. Here's what happened:

Rewind about 12 weeks ago or so. I walked into a salon, dying for a hair cut, anything really, to help with the shag that had become my head. I was seated in the first seat in the salon and did what I always do--told the lady I wanted a funky, choppy, piecey hair cut. One that had some sass to it and was easy to pull together in morning rot with chaos. After much head shaking, smiling, and some questions about why my mornings are chaos (do you have kids?), we got started with the scissors. 20 minutes later, it she went a bit too short and I was not as happy as I could have been with a cut. Seriously, if she'd kept it 1/2 inch longer I might have been happier. But, I am ahead of myself. The cut was all right--not lovely, not ideal, and not even really great. But all right. I could GET BY with what she did to my hair.

Or so I thought. Bear with me Internets, I am sharing yet another secret: when I'm down in the dumps, feeling low, wishing I were 50 lbs lighter--I do one of two things (if not both)--go shopping and/or go and get my hair cut. That day? I had done the latter. (Funky, fun hair cut = drastically improved self esteem and mood). But Hair cut number 512 of the season was flat. As in too short and spiky and GASP sort of manly on me (or at least that is what it felt like).

I tugged and pulled and yanked and waxed the hell out of the hair to make it do something fun. After washing it 15 times in the sink, blow drying it every possible way, using gel, mouse, hair products of every shelf in Target... I still was unsatisfied. And truthfully, devastated. It wasn't what I wanted. No matter what I tried. Did it give me bedhead? Sure, but in the awful way. And I was disliking the cut the more I messed with the hair. I was uneven and again, my triple chins were even MORE pronounced because those little fringes she was supposed to leave behind my ears? She'd chopped them.

Four weeks into the cut, I was finally able to breath again. The hair grew, I could style it enough to at least not make me cringe around mirrors. And I was feeling decent about my look. Enough to get the red out and keep a little copper in. But now another 8 weeks later... well, it was obvious, it was hair cut time again. Only problem is, I wanted something a bit different, and with my current Do, well, it's a bit difficult, because there wasn't a lot of hair to work with. "Growing it out" -- not an option. I had long hair until college, I've completely given up on it. FOREVER (the additional 5 inches I grew for my wedding was only to give my husband the hard on he deserved on wedding night. It was cut the first day back from the honeymoon. Shush. It was our agreement).

Anyway, to say that I was nervous about this impending hair cut would be an understatement. I'd spent 2 days searching online hair web sites to find this new look. To at least give a hair stylist a CLUE about this funky look I wanted (really it's not hard people, it's a razor cut. Or one that makes the hair flip. My hair's had years of practice). But nothing was right. And I was about to cry but so fed up...

I just called a salon and asked if they could take me TODAY. Any time today. I'd make my work schedule fit around it. Two hours later I was staring at myself in the mirror trying to figure this new cut out.

It looked very much like the old cut, but better. It has these fringey things that framed my face. The bangs are sorta choppy and fun. I can pull and piece it out in a few different ways. And other than the poof that every damn stylist makes at the top of my head (easily tamed with a bit of hair wax stuff)--it looked pretty damn good. Even better after I got home and did my own wash and style of the thing (and by style, I mean let it dry because the baby awoke and I had to tend to her for over an hour and by then the hair had all out dried. But, like I said, I smeared some wax in my hands and began to pull and shape and twist... and what do you know. With NO blow dryer I could have thrown some make up on and walked out the door looking put together!). Who knew one hair cut could make me grin ear to ear?

It even looks good with my glasses. Natural even. I'm flattered. And honored. And a bit perplexed at how this happened. But count me happy. I now have the half improved, new me. With a short hair cut reminiscent of funky. And I almost feel that sass coming out too.

Labels: hair, life, me

Do I Look Good Naked?

Wednesday, July 23, 2008 by Bethany

Long before children, I slept naked. There. I admitted something personal on the Internet. I'll blame the sleeping habit on my husband. He chose the nude as sleeping attire, curious if it would be as freeing as he claimed, I gave it a shot. Surprisingly, I too loved it. That is, until the children were born. And I was getting up at all hours of the night to nurse (my son born at the end of November, close to the dead of winter). I soon gave up the habit. But this isn't about me...

Last week I read Anna Johnson's THE YUMMY MUMMY MANIFESTO. She's all about choosing your own parenting style and a little bit of nakedness. Sometimes in the rain. What does this have to do with me and my old sleeping habits? Not a whole helluva lot--except maybe if I was a bit more free-living, I'd enjoy being naked more. Or say I lost a good 50 lbs. Though I must say, still nursing, I just don't wear a shirt half the time anymore. It's easier. At least when I am at home.

Anyway, this has to do with The Peanut, my daughter. We, as Americans, have this thing with changing diapers and then putting kids in clothing. Whether just a onsie or wrapping in a blanket or whatever. I admit, my kids naked a whole 30 minutes for bath time and then I slap on a diaper and some sorta of clothing. Mostly because I don't want her peeing (or worse shitting) all over the joint. And, of course, I don't want her to freeze her ass of in the post-bath wetness.

Today? Today, I let the kid crawl, scoot, sit, do whatever a 10-month-old does for over an hour completely naked. Did I worry she would piss all over? Hell yeah. But at the same time... she laughed herself silly when she held onto her Elmo stuffed animal and the fur rubbed her belly. She clapped (and clapped and clapped) when she accidentally smacked her hand on that same bare belly. And hell if she didn't crawl for a bit and then stop after she felt a bit of the wind on her ass. It was hilarious to watch. And just a joy to watch her be free.

Not exactly sure what she was free from--other than her clothing. But I realized, when trying to wrestler her back into her clothes (and it really was a wrestling match full of yelling, crying, kicking, and a few wiggles free), that she loved it. I loved watching her with no reservations--and that is a good thing. Especially, since if I really think about it. I'm not naked more often for the obvious reasons--open windows, children running amok in the house--but also because I am not exactly comfortable with my naked self. And I'll be damned, I should really start working on that.

Labels: books, life, me, reading, The Peanut

Saturday Night Line Up

Saturday, July 19, 2008 by Bethany

Is it sad that my son sits on the couch after his allotted shows for the evening and discusses home decor design choices with me?

Tonight, he said the red chairs that are there for some color "pop" in the room aren't the right color. He said a dark, chocolate brown might have been better.

He would have chosen House #2--if given the opportunity--because it had a play set in the yard. Though he thought it was too close to the back door. And the pseudo river in the back (that was really a drainage ditch, but I wasn't going to correct him).

Also, he thought that we needed more yellow in our living room. Because it is an accent color. The third one and we barely have it in there. Except for the fake flowers in the corner and small ity bits on the pillows.

What's even worse? I think I agreed with him on almost everything. Except the red chairs. They were damn cool.

Labels: kid wittisms, life, me, parenting, The Kiddo

Friday Night and I Just Got My Free time

Friday, July 18, 2008 by Bethany

I had grand plans for today. It was a vacation day Friday--with plans of watching my son perform in a fun little program in the morning, a car ride home with the baby napping, and take-out lunch. Naps, writing, reading, television... maybe even call a sitter and get a night out.

And I got the first 4 on the list with little help and not much effort. Napping? Not as easy. In fact, lots of tears and false attempts, but then got a nice 3 hour one in. With baby and me. Which--if I had to speak honestly--was fabulous. The Peanut isn't a long napper (for the sitter, it's routine 3 hours, I get an hour and a half on good days), except when I lay down with her. Today, I felt nothing short of exhausted, head bobbing and all. A long relaxing nap was just what I had in order.

But then writing was out of the question. So was reading. And so was the second load of laundry. Dishes. And hell cooking dinner (we went with the old stand by of frozen pizza). The sitter? Never happened. Thus, here I am, on the computer at 10:30pm doing the latest trendy Mom thing--blogging.

Regardless of those pitfalls, I still can't complain. I mean really. Napping for 3 hours? Watching my son dance to his hearts delight to a choreographed Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle routine? Seriously. It is like a drug. Fills my heart up with love, gratitude, and blessings (and if you know me, I'm not all mooshy).

It wasn't all I wanted to do today--but was enough to make it one of the good days. The days you don't expect to brighten your mood, but does. The days where you feel almost normal, coherent, and together. A day where I should have gotten my hair cut at the salon, it likely would have turned out perfectly funky and fun. Or a day of shopping would have garnered the perfect sale rack of jeans that fit just right.

Okay, so maybe not that last one. That would be just a bit TOO perfect.

Anyway, it is what it is, and now I think I might write. Use the few precious moments of sleep time for what it is exactly intended--me time.

Labels: life, me

Some Say It's Easy

Thursday, July 17, 2008 by Bethany

The general consensus over writing is that it is either really damn hard to do or really easy. Today, as I sit at my desk performing my day job, I wrote a script for an educational video. It was easy. Fifteen minutes of easy and I was done with about 7 minutes of "stage talk."

But last night, when I got a whole 15 minutes of uninterrupted kid time after dinner? Well, I didn't write a damn thing on my personal projects. Not even a blog post. A witty (pithy) comment. Or a tweet.

After about 10 of those precious minutes passed, I just gave up and decided to spend the time discussing the day with my son. The son who has decided to take up bending the truth when he is afraid of my response TO the truth (case in point: he lost the $10 I gave him for spending money at day camp. But instead of telling me he lost it, he said he bought something to drink. And when I asked where the rest of the money was, he said he bought is his camp friend a drink. And when I asked where the rest of the money from that was, he proceeded to tell me he "thinks he bought a pretzel." Which, brought me to ask more questions, because the keyword "think" means he's likely lying). I wanted him to remember more from today than just me reprimanding him for the lying thing. That is happening daily. And at almost 6 years old, I am still trying to figure out HOW to deal with it, I am resolving to a lot of talking. And discussing. And trying to understand. But I am digressing... because writing about family is apparently even easier than a blog post today. But again... off point.

See, for me, marketing writing, or script writing, or writing manuals, it's become second nature. It is telling the truths of the world about a product, place, thing. And is easy to begin, continue, and end. On most of my days. One reason why it was a logical career choice for me and I'm happy I can do it and make a little cash.

But my fight right now is fiction. The made-up stuff? Well, sure, I can make it all up in my head just fine. That's the easy part. But getting it on paper in the same way I talk about it in my head? Not so easy. Even on my good days.

So, when 15 minutes squeak by me, I get frustrated. Because I know damn well a few hours later, when I am putting The Peanut to bed and she is nursing up a storm and there is no way I'll be able to get to the computer fast enough--those ideas will come back to me. And likely triple fold. And it will be hard for me to recapture them all, when I am tired. Weary. And ready for bed.

But, as the Internet as my witness, I want you to know. I'm trying. Because it would be much better if it was as easy as the work writing. I'd get triple of the work done, in the same amount of time. I'm keeping bulleted lists on everything from napkins, receipts, voice notes on my cell phone, and notebook paper if I am lucky enough to find it. I am collecting furious thoughts. And ones that make no sense at all in this bright red folder I am tucking away in my desk drawer. All in the name of one day getting that next book done. And another following that one. Because, if I don't keep at it, it'll never come easy.

Labels: me, writing, writing life

Vacation Afterglow

Sunday, July 13, 2008 by Bethany

Has it been 13 corporate free days already? Damn. I think I'm addicted to this no-commitment thing. And hell, now I have to go back! Argh. And Sigh. Along with that terribly sad epiphany, I've decided that fiction writing needs to be done--come hell or high water. So, welcome accountability.

- I will write this week. I don't care if it is one word, one idea scratched on my work post-it note collection. I'm writing damn it!

- I will get a first draft of a book done by the end of the year.

- I will spend less time working the Corporate gig so that I can write when I get home.

- And I will enjoy more simple moments with my family. And time to myself.

Got all that? Because, damn it, if you aren't the Internet, you are people that will call me on all this shit if I start a new pity party about none of it happening. So, mark your calendars and start reminding me that this is what is called life. With or without vacation.

Labels: day job, life, me, writing, writing life

I swear, as the Internet as my Witness

Monday, July 07, 2008 by Bethany

Let's be honest, shall we. I'm having a hard time. As in, I feel like a schlep, I am likely acting like a schlep, and I have a whole slew of comments and feeling built up inside that I've held there for a long time. Thoughts that if I don't voice them will eventually consume me more than they already have. So, for lack of a better way to express them, you--my dear Internet--will get a bulleted list. Feel free to click away at anytime--these thoughts will be raw, honest, and probably gruesome. I swear, my feelings won't be hurt. Read at your own risk.

- My weight. It's at an all time high. And instead of getting it in control by cutting out the lattes in the morning and all day soda drinking (not to mention weekly pizza dinners, take-out, and the other ungodly crappy food I put to my mouth), I just keep eating it. And sometimes in excess. Like the four Ghirardelli Chocolate with Carmel Filling Squares I've just stuffed in my mouth? Yes. Like that.

- I don't have a damn thing in my closet that fits right--and I am in a constant battle with the T-shirts to not ride up my ever-increasing stomach or back. Not to mention my new obsession/habit of buying a new shirt for any occasion, since, as I said, I don't feel comfortable in any of them that I own.

- Housework. Or more specifically, picking up after everyone in my house. I swear, it is killing me slowly. Like tonight, in the last hour, I picked up: 4 pairs of my husbands jeans from the foot of the bed (along with the socks, belts, and miscellaneous items that went along with the those jeans), 2 baskets of the baby's toys, unloaded the dishwasher and refilled it again with dishes, took out the garbage and recycling, cleared off the kitchen island, and all the various glasses/toys/pens/papers/etc off the various others places in the house they were left after use. And I should start a load of laundry and fold the 2 loads that are sitting in a laundry basket in my room. But instead, I blog. Hey, it's my choice. And I'm on vacation right?

- Finances. I'm in charge of the checkbook in our family. Which means I pay the bills, keep a close eye on balances, figure out how to pay for big ticket items, grocery shop (oh wait, that isn't in the bill pile is it?). Right now I am not happy. I feel like we are spending too much. I feel like we are working our lives away. And I don't want to have to be the one to put the breaks on spending.

- Pet feeding and care. Am I the only one that can remember to feed an animal in the house? Because, really, if I am NOT the only one that remembers, then why the hell am I the only one feeding them? And medicating them (our eldest kitty is sick)?

- Nursing the Infant. If you've never nursed a kid, you likely won't get this whole begrudging feeling. And believe me when I tell you, I know the benefits of nursing (health, money, blah, blah, blah)--that's why I am doing it. Still. BUT, what all those damn parenting/pregnancy books don't tell you is that at some point, you'll want your breasts back. After nursing my son for 2 years (yes, that's me and him. And the way it was), and now The Peanut's 10+ month nursing adventure, I feel like a milk machine. It doesn't help that at night, it's the only damn thing that will calm her. Or, for that matter, ANY time she is upset it is the only thing that will calm her. Or the Damned Pump (God, I hate that thing). Living my life with how many freezed feedings I have stored away.... I could go on and on here, but all in all, I'm tired of it. Too bad my daughter's so attached. 6-8 more weeks, and she sure as hell better like milk or I might cry.

- Non-existent me time. I don't have it. The only time I have a sitter is so that I can go to work. And then when I do get a sitter for non-work times, it is assumed it will be a date-night. Which, could be a worse issue, but at times, I just want alone time. Like to go to the bathroom. To sleep. To just, you know, be me. Think. Right now, even with the hubby out and about with his buddies and the kids asleep you'd think I'd get some down time. Instead I clean (see above), or in this case, write a blog post between nursing sessions (which right now are running about every 1/2 hours. It better be some damn teething pain. I can't do this for another week--as it's been a week or so already of this routine).

- The rest of the Kid Care. Seriously, other than literally putting The Kiddo to bed (The husband does that about 5 days out of the week)--I do it all. Feeding, bathing, dressing, nagging to brush teeth, dealing with the favorite T-shirt tears (when it's dirty), can't find shoe tears, diaper changes, coloring book frenzies, day care drop off/pick up, getting down for naps, packing clothes, combing hair... oh you get the idea. It's mostly me. 80 - 90% me. Some weeks more. And well, can we just say, I'm tired. (And don't get too down on my husband, I haven't mowed a lawn in 3 years. Or weeded. Or done a damn thing outside for our yard for that matter. And I am also not the one gone about 10-11 hours a day to the office during the week. Seriously. I complain at mandatory 24 hours of office time).

- Lack of writing. I'm sure bullets 5 and 6 play into this (in fact I know they do), but it still depressed me even more. Sigh. I can't even string enough sentences together to have it count as a "good try." So, I don't even bother any more. Or this last few months.

Wait. You're still here? And reading. Wow. Well, I confess (again), I didn't expect anyone past the first paragraph. But since you are (still) here, know I'm not ready to jump off any cliffs. I know all these gripes will pass. They always do. But today, I felt like I needed to tell someone. Especially since I am on "vacation" from my day job. I should be fancy free, right? Instead, I feel a bit overwhelmed with life. With all the roles I play outside of the office. And, if I am honest, I am a bit lonely. Am I the only one harboring pent up mom-frustrations?

Labels: breastfeeding, life, me, parenting, writing

It may only come once a year

Sunday, July 06, 2008 by Bethany

This morning was the first of its kind. I was up at a somewhat decent hour (8am-ish) with the baby. And only the baby. The Kiddo was still fast asleep--which is abnormal, as he is typically the first to rise on "days off"--and The Husband no where near waking (which unfortunately is also normal). So, for the first time ever, I was able to see what life would be like if The Peanut was the only one.

It was pleasant. She was smiling a lot. And, miraculously, so was I. We were able to eat breakfast together. I tilted my head in reaction to her head tilt. Mimicking sounds became a game all its own. And her fondness for all things goofy made giggling the normal reaction for both of us. For once, I gave her the full attention she deserves.

It all made my heart ache.

This morning is an anomaly. It wasn't just The Kiddo and Husband sleeping in (though, I must admit, having an extra hour of sleep could have made the day even better), it's mostly because I am on vacation, so work isn't weighing on my mind. I wasn't overwhelmed with a need to clean the house (hell we had a party a day ago, the dust hasn't settled yet). I wasn't preoccupied with the clock--we weren't running late for anything, or waiting for anyone to arrive, or waiting to leave to go anywhere. We were just being. Being mother and daughter.

In a life I'll likely never have. I won't be able to just enjoy breakfasts like this very much--if once or twice a year on vacation. And, of course, The Peanut is not the only one. The Kiddo is child supreme. Though, admittedly, when he awoke for the day--I had a similarly peaceful breakfast. One showered with morning hugs, kisses, and conversation revolving around bike rides and summer days.

My life is too full of rushing to beat the clock--whether that is for work, complications, plans, appointments, or just plain getting my life together. And I yearn for morning so much more like the one I had today. Where I can simply enjoy what I have. My children, my family, my husband, and my day. But for some reason, if I'm not on vacation, I can't find my way to moments like these, like this morning, or like tomorrow afternoon when we all sit down after dark to enjoy some post-4th of July sparklers.

I'll have to find some way to capture those moments and put them to the forefront.Or at least attempt them as a weekly ritual. I had too much fun laughing at the gurgling sounds my daughter made after gulping some water from her sippy cup. And snuggling with my son on the couch when he stumbled from his room in his morning sleepiness. It's all too good to pass up again.

Labels: life, me, parenting

Day 3 and We're Still Going

Saturday, July 05, 2008 by Bethany

The 4th of July went off without a hitch--luncheon type party with beer can chicken and burgers at Noon-ish was pleasant, weather even pleasanter. It even included some Bean Bag Throwing and Squirt Gun Wars after the kids began to think the play set was boring. Even the little one was happy and cooperative even though she missed every minute of naps throughout the day. Only thing that could have gone better? A nap for mom (that would be me) after the guests left. But hey, the hubby slept instead and our moods were better thereafter.

Today, the good have kept going, right? It has. At least for the most part. I am still in my pajamas if that says anything. The kids have been relatively okay. And I've barely had to cook (not that we haven't eaten, I have just chosen quick meals). The Kiddo and I have had minimal Watch-What-You-Are-Doing or Be-Quiet-Your-Sister-Is-Sleeping spats, and the husband has been home most of the day. So, for it only being Saturday, 3 days into my vacation, it's a good thing. Because if there would have been fighting and nerve grinding, I would have given up on my good mood already.

Labels: life, me

Is it me?

Thursday, July 03, 2008 by Bethany

Am I the only woman on the planet that can't get herself to wear white pants/shorts/skirts?

Really, it isn't the stain factor (with 2 kids, it really could be), it's just I think it looks like crap. Even with these oh-so-cute shirts I have for the summer. In theory, they would go perfect with white pants. Just not on me.

Labels: clothing, me

Me, My Feet, and I

Wednesday, July 02, 2008 by Bethany

Where I come from, you don't get pedicures. Okay, well some might, but it is a rural part of the country really. One that cherishes the "simple" things like flannel as a fashion statement, over 7 months of winter, and no need to get your toe nails painted fancy.

Sure, growing up all girly and that we painted our toe nails--but getting them rubbed down, lotioned, callus removed by a stranger? Wasn't even an option at the boutiques or salons. And so, having grown up with that mentality, I didn't see the need either. Until of course I realized my feet looked awful compared to all the other women sporting flip flops around the office.

Though, that fact alone still didn't get me in for a pedicure. I had ticklish feet (still do). My husband would touch my heel and I'd yank my foot away aghast that he'd do that to me when I was so comfortable on the couch (if you have ticklish feet like I do, you know what I mean). But another two summer seasons passed, then the birth of The Kiddo, and then a gift certificate landed in my mail box. For a pedicure. At a top-notch Oh-My-God-They-Spent-A-Lot-Of-Money-For-This salon. And I was forced to face my fear.

Along with the girlfriend who bought the present, I went it ready to control a wiggling foot for some stranger who was going to make her money today. I mean, 28 years of calluses and wear at tear on one's toes? This pedicurist was in for quite the work out! Not to mention the ticklishness.

But what I walked into, was luxury. Warm gushing water through my toes. Lotion. A hot wax treatment that at first made me want to cringe, but then I loved... and then of course the callus rubbing. And clipping. Trimming. More lotion. More rubbing. Massage. More hot wax. And in the end, I had sparkly and perfectly pink toe nails.

I was hooked.

It became a ritual for Girlfriend and I... every three months (it was all I could afford--even at a cheaper salon). And it became my day out with the girls. We ate lunch. We got our toes done. We watched a movie. We shopped. And I would stare down at my lovely toes.

Wish I could say this routine went on for years (about 3). But here we are.... I whined I needed a pedicure before being pregnant. Then when I was pregnant with my daughter. Then after she was born. Now she's 10 months--and FINALLY I got my ass back in that chair for a well-deserved pedicure (if I say so myself).

Again, I felt bad for the pedicurist. I know she was cringing at the new calluses. The new wear on my feet. My rough heels. And the fact that it had been ages since I trimmed up my cuticles. But you know what? I didn't give a damn. Book open in my lap, glass of water to my left. Relaxing music. It was heavenly. Even though the young woman went a little bit too far with the sanding of my heels. I'm dealing. My feet feel like my feet again. Soft and smooth.

Labels: life, me

Can we meet somewhere in the middle?

Monday, June 30, 2008 by Bethany

Arguments suck. I don't care who they are with--friends, husbands, sisters, brothers (well if I had one), parents, uncles, aunts--doesn't matter. If you are fighting, life is miserable. I'm one who yells a bit then pulls back and sulks. Or at least it appears that way.

What I am really doing is dissecting the entire damn argument and figuring out the best comebacks I should have argued back with. The ones that really twist it in there and make my point. Like say the laundry "discussion" that happens about once every 3 months here. It starts with a simple statement like, "Why aren't there any darks done?" Or substitute darks with whites, colors, blue jeans, towels, doesn't matter... you get the idea.

You'd think a fire was lit under my ass when I respond. It can be any number of statements--some more clever than others. I like, "You've got hands, throw a few clothes in yourself." There's also the old stand by, "Who do I look like, your personal maid?" Or I might thrown in, "What? I'm not busting my ass in and out of an office all day AND bringing kids to and fro?" But you see where this is going don't you?

Hostility. Grumping. Someone storming off. And depending on who needs the clothes the most--or which child needs tending to; one of us ends up tossing laundry in the washer. Albeit, begrudgingly.

It's a sore spot in our house. And hell, if I could afford to send it off every week (or the two or three times a week), I would, because quite frankly I suck at it. And with two kids in the house, it is all I can do to keep them clothed in something presentable, forget about me (just last week, I wiped cookie slobber off a sleeve of a black shirt so I could wear it to the office).

Anyway, my point is this, why does this have to be a struggle? Just like the dishes/dishwasher thing? And the grocery shopping. Or picking up the never-ending toys. Or the kids clothing? Or say changing the sheets? I hate that my weekends (particularly Saturday mornings), I spent doing all the cleaning I didn't do during the week--whether that excuse is going into the office more or just plain laziness. It's the only way we can make it. Unless of course there was more help in the house. But, hey I can't really point fingers. Because in the end, we share the children and we share a household.

Labels: life, me

Lazy Days of Summer

Friday, June 27, 2008 by Bethany

I've been feeling a bit closed in lately. Like my days are pre-destined for a lot of work and child care and not enough time to reflect, be me, and catch up on the 800 projects that feel like they are lying around the house. It might be the oncoming summer weather, more time in the office, or my yearly Clear-My-Head Session.

This "session" isn't something planned. Or something I set aside time to do. It just happens. I find I'm overwhelmed with an urge to create, but can't really figure out what. Even if I take a guess at the what, I find myself contemplating how to start. And in the end, I don't do a whole lot of anything.

Resisting this Clearing is really useless. It comes every year, coincidentally, about this same time. Right before summer. It has just taken me years to actually accept it instead of plowing through into some new project (or old one). Last year I just spent the summer enjoying the slowly dwindling days of being a mom to one. My daughter showed up at the end of August and let me slide a few more months. And suddenly come December I was over flowing with new energy and ideas (even though I was more than exhausted with a newborn around).

And now, I think I'm at that time again. I let go of projects that aren't routine. I let work slide a bit instead of living the life of an over-achiever. And in the end, I spend quality time with myself, my family, and sorta experience life in order to "fill the well."

Sure, I'll still be blogging here. And reading. And writing. But no pressure. No substance. And hell, you might even get some delayed postings around here. But, it's all part of my process. My brain re-wiring itself for more creativity. Or at least I tell myself that so that I don't think of it as "lazy." Because that will only lead to some heavy duty ice cream gouging. And I don't need the extra 25 pounds.

Labels: life, me, writing

Spilling the Beans

Wednesday, June 25, 2008 by Bethany

I'm not writing.

Really. I've been doing a lot of day job stuff. And mom stuff. And wifely stuff. Not to mention home and car owner crap. And everything else that means living--including watching television, cooking meals, reading (and reading), and walking, and buying clothes that fit me instead of pinch me, and well, everything but working on my next book.

Some days this is frustrating. Or infuriating. Depending on what I wanted to do when I woke up in the morning (yes, I am one of those people that sorta have a day plan when I wake). But, then all hell breaks loose--a kid gets sick or hurt, or hell a husband breaks a rib (true story)--and suddenly the plans are out and survival mode kicks in. When I am the throes of book writing, it doesn't matter, I'll just keep writing until the wee hours of the morning. Obviously, between books means something else. What that 'else' is? I'm not really sure.

It's not for lack of ideas. I have files of them, others that are still simmering somewhere in the back of my head, and I have weekly fiction column pieces and the book recommendations that I keep up with. So, maybe it's just because. Or summer. Or my typical calm before the storm. Whatever it is, I'd like to finish this next book--it's time for *it* to hit the proverbial curb.

Labels: me, writing

Daily Bump and Grind

Monday, June 23, 2008 by Bethany

Motherhood brings routine. And routine often gets boring. And by boring I mean mind-numbing routines that make you want to stick a needle in your eye. Add in the chaos of a work schedule that never stays consistent, which blows what little portions of your day were almost not routine, into something called chaos--and guess what? You have a tiny picture of what my life is like. Think I am exaggerating?

Check out today's "routine." And keep in mind, this is repeated at least 4 days a week. And typically the 5 business days and an occasionally Saturday gets thrown in the mess.

6:00amish - kick/nudge/shove my husband to wake up and turn off his alarm. And nurse a baby. Sometimes all at once since, yes, the baby sleeps in our bed. Sue me, I need to sleep sometime.

6:15am - repeat above.

6:30am - repeat, but make sure the husband gets up (well, on days that I am awake enough to do so). He gets up, make sure alarm is off, and attempt to disconnect my kid from my boob. It's likely a summer day camp day and we have to get out of the house (as in myself and both kids in an hour. Husband must leave in a half hour).

7am - if not done nursing and out of bed yet, do it now. Even if I wake the baby and have to forgo a shower (again). 30 minutes and counting before leaving the house.

7:05am - attempt to wake The Kiddo. Easier said than done.

7:10am - find my clothes. Again, easier said than done.

7:15 am - either attempt a shower if the baby is still sleeping, or just get dressed and cake on the deodorant.

7:20am - wake up The Kiddo for real this time. Make sure he's up, hand him the camp T-shirt and have him pick out shorts, underwear, hat... whatever makes him happy and gets him up.

7:25am- dress, make-up, hair (bed head look is still in right); change baby's diaper, dress her, feed the dog, let the dog out, get pump and milk ready for baby, make The Kiddo's lunch...

7:38am - complain we are late and drag the children to the car. With the camp bag, Nintendo DS lite for The Kiddo to play during the drive, my laptop bag, my pump, the milk for The Peanuts Day, the pacifier (for the sitter for the baby), socks for the baby, extra diapers...

7:50amish- arrive at sitter for The Peanut. Hand her off when she is screaming. Apologize for just running off and then jump back into the car and rush off--speeding--towards day camp.

8:10am - swear at traffic. Mumble about construction. Get on expressway and pray the traffic keeps moving.

8:30am - will the clock to stop so we arrive at summer day camp on time. Answer my son's various questions. Hand him the pop tart I miraculously remembered before leaving the house. And join my work conference call (this is sometimes left out, but 50% of the time in the routine).

8:45am - pull into camp. Sigh a breath of relief. Hand my son the sun tan lotion--caution him not to use too much but get it on. Don't want sunburn! Continue to talk/listen to conference call.

8:50am - walk into camp, sign in the kid. Hug. Kiss. Smile. Wave. Smile. Wonder when he got so old. Hopefully hang up on call so can head to the bathroom.

9:15am pull into the office parking lot. Drive around. Wait for space. Park. Walk in. Join new call.

9:30am - 4pm conference calls, emails, working, more calls, even more emails, complaining, some more emails, more calls... oh, whatever. It is work. Somewhere near 2:30pm or so I'll realize I didn't eat lunch or go to the restroom since the morning. I'll attempt to do both. Sometimes successful. Sometimes not.

4:15pm - attempt to leave work. Typically get a call. Another email. Or get asked something in the hall.

4:20pm - Hide in the restroom to pump milk for the baby. Sigh relief... and again when I have enough milk for tomorrow.

4:35pm - make it to my car, open windows, start, find acceptable music, drive to camp to pick up The Kiddo.

4:45pm - Pick up Kiddo. Hug. Kiss. Smile. Check him out. Ask about day. Find out about adventures. Get a water/Gatorade/Soda from vending machine. Share with kid. Smile. Laugh. Get back into the car.

4:55pm - 5:30pm Drive back to hometown. Get to sitter's driveway just before 5:30. Walk in to get The Peanut.

5:35pm - Snuggle with The Peanut. Find out how she did during the day. Hug. Kiss. Grin. Leave the sitters and attempt to buckle her into the car seat with as little screaming as possible.

5:45 - 6pm Drive home.

6:05pm - get kids inside, chit chat, let the dog out, open the refridgerator and take inventory for dinner. Give up and close it. Sit the baby in her high chair and spill dinner onto the tray in front of her Puffs and Cheerios. Ask The Kiddo for his dinner preference.

6:19pm - check if husband is on his train on the way home. Continue cooking The Kiddo's food (likely a combination of 2 or so of the following: hot dogs, chicken nuggets, breaded shrimp, hash browns, sausage, french fries, mac and cheese, chips...). Give the baby some mushy food (latest delight is sweet potatoes and carrots).

7:30ishpm - decide on dinner for The husband and I. Attempt to cook it before the baby wants to nurse. Get a bath ready for The Kiddo (if bath night). Start the bed time routines--change into pajamas, reading, shows for the night.

8pm - dinner of some sort on table for when husband walks in. Nurse baby. Get show on for The Kiddo.

8:15pm - The Husband walks in. Causes ruckus with the kids. Eat our dinner. Send the Kiddo off to watch show, then brush teeth, and bathroom before bed.

8:30pm - put baby to bed. The Husband puts son to bed.

9pm - Still trying to get baby to bed.

9:30pm - get my own pajamas on. Clean kitchen from dinner mess. Feed the dog dinner. Talk with husband. If I am lucky watch some television. Read. Maybe even blog.

Sometime between 10:30 and Midnight0-- write. Or try to. Or want to. And then just decide to go to bed.

12:30am, 2:30am, 4:30am Nurse baby. And then of course start all over again.

Labels: family, life, me, motherhood, parenting

Give me some LOVE (please)!

Sunday, June 22, 2008 by Bethany

All right, so I've been gallivanting online again. Check out Chapter 7 of the serial fiction story LIFE AS GRETA over at Hybrid Mom. Hell, if you comment on that chapter, you could win a free year subscription to the print magazine! So please go over and play.

Labels: fiction, Internet, LIFE AS GRETA, me, writing

Here's to all the women I love

Thursday, June 19, 2008 by Bethany

Life changes when you have kids. Time is short. Money shorter. Fuses the shortest. And suddenly you find yourself living in the suburbs with a minivan (or for us a Honda Pilot), Cheerios between the seats, and spit up on your shoulder while your in a business meeting with high-level VPs (true story, very much like my Monday).

It's tough to explain the Parenting Profession to those that aren't. Or those that have all-the-time-live-in-nannies. Because quite frankly, when someone is around to help, they aren't bored at my house. When my son was born, I had some weird neurotic tendency to want to do bath, feed, nurture, read, cuddle, scorn, care-for, tease, laugh at, run around with... and quite frankly do it all for my son. All. Of. It. I had a hard time when a sitter arrived just feeling normal leaving the house. Now with my daughter--um, things are different. I run from the door prancing like and idiot that just got out of jail free card.

It's not because I love her or my now 5-year-old son less. Nope. It's because I know if I don't get this down time, I'll turn into a crazed mother destined for some prescribed time away. And, to clarify, when I go into the office, that is NOT time away. That is crazed Work Time that has it's own set of standards and stresses that I'd rather not discuss.

But all of this--the anxiousness, overwhelming love and longing, stress of parenting is not something you can just describe to a soon-to-be parent. Or even a parent to a 6 week old (they haven't been around long enough). But to a mom of say a 6 month old or so.. over martinis? Sure, start yapping. It'll take you at least until bar close to cover the main points.

Which brings me to this little post topic. Thank God I work with mothers. Hell, fathers are okay too, but at the moment, I could cry because of the moms I work with. Sure some are more experienced. Others are less. But man, oh man, when I had one of those days where biscuits are smeared all over my left shoulder, my hair is matted with spit up, less than 3 hours of sleep, and I had a flat time on the way in--and I STILL come into the office? Those are the women I want covering my ass. These women whom I can always count on to answer a text message, email, phone call gripe that has me close to tears-- hears to making this work. Somehow. Some way. And yeah, feel free to call me next time. I'll sing the sob story too.

Labels: life, me, motherhood, parenting, women, working

I've officially moved to the 'Old' Side

Wednesday, June 18, 2008 by Bethany

And don't try to convince me 32-years-old is not old, because, when I waddled my way into a nameless chain restaurant last week with the kidlings in tow to grab us dinner--I was told otherwise. If I could have counted to looks of horror the crowd of younger patrons bestowed upon us as we tripped and skipped and dragged ourselves from the parking lot to the take out counter, I would be the proverbial rich woman. Or I just managed to secure a few dozen forms of birth control for the crowd.

There were looks of complete horror. Like, "She's not going to eat here with them is she?" All the way to the simple, "Oh. My. God." looks of terror. And this all from me just unbuckling and bringing my kids to a counter and then leaving.

Aside from the looks of the younger crowd, there were my thoughts. Which were just as horrifying. I mean, how can I be positive when I turned into the parking lot, and almost right into some barely 16-year-olds making out on a car hood? In plain daylight? At 5:30pm in the afternoon? I wasn't disgusted. Nor hiding the abomination from the kids. I was more.... um, old. Like my mother speaking my thoughts. I wondered why in the world making out on a car hood in front of the masses could in any way be romantic, or the way one would want to show affection. Completely forgetting what teen lust does to ones sense of romance.

It got worse when the girl (and yes, she was 18 at most) took my money in exchange for my brown bag of dinner. She grinned fake-like at my daughter. Then sneered a little at my son when he wandered a bit too close to those seated only a few feet away. And then held the door open for me as we left. Not saying aloud, "Your kind is like not welcome like here."

Sigh. I even felt old. Not sure if it was the motherhood in me. The baggy shirt and Capri pants. Or the fact that I hadn't showered in 4 days that made that moment stick out like a dirty stick in the mud on my self-confidence. Either way, I don't think I will venture out to the younger side of the tracks any time soon. The food wasn't that good. And definitely not the company either.

Labels: life, me, motherhood

A Geek With No Clothing

Friday, June 13, 2008 by Bethany

I got to order a new laptop for work today. And I was geeked about it. Sad but true. Might as well face the facts right now, any bit of new technology gets my blood pumping about as much as my children reaching a new milestone, a night of passionate you know what, and/or a good length of a writing stint. I'm a Geek. Proud of it.

Labels: me, technology

Moments Like These Make Me Smile

Thursday, June 12, 2008 by Bethany

My 9-month-old daughter is banging away on her Leapfrog drum making more noise than my pre-parent ears could handle. But having had two now, I just giggle. The kid's occupied and it's a dream. She's grinning ear to ear with her accomplishment to make noises at will.... and my son joins in singing and banging on his own bongo drums.

In 15 minutes, I'll have had enough of the banging from both of them, but at the moment, it almost seems peaceful from my spot on the couch. So much so, I just grabbed a soda and a book. This "occupied" time might let me read a chapter.

Labels: life, me, parenting

For the record

Tuesday, June 10, 2008 by Bethany

My life is a but consumed right now by a 9-month-old that wants to be held. All. The. Damn. Time. And one that has be shuffling my ass to the day job routinely during the week now. I'm finding it more tiring than I had expected. Which, quite frankly, makes me pissy.

Sure, I thought more in-office days would make me tired. Who wouldn't be? I have to get up an hour earlier to get my face looking somewhat normal and presentable. Then there's my hair. The children fed, clothed, presentable. Not to mention bringing them to school/camps/daycares. Oh and my coffee. And maybe something to eat for me. Hygiene and all that. And the bags.

Diaper bags with pumped milk, diapers, changes of clothes, food. Bags of lunches, camp clothes, swim suits, towels, money, extra socks. And bags with laptops, notebooks, pens, cell phone, more notes from last weeks meetings. And more lunches, and books to share, and presents for the party I missed last week.

All in an extra hour in the morning. Then there are the endless calls to work, for work, to the sitter, from the sitter, a few extra to the day camp about my son's inhaler and a form I forgot. And well... you see where this is going. It is tiring just talking about it. And now, day 3 into this new routine? I'm ready to throw in the towel.

Labels: life, me, motherhood

I Think I've Officially Lost Myself in the Madness

Monday, June 09, 2008 by Bethany

It's after midnight and I'm showering. Well, just finished a shower actually. In preparation for what? My now New Normal Mondays. The Peanut off to day care by 7:30am and off to bring The Kiddo to Summer Day Camp. He must arrive by 9am. Or lose his spot for the day. Which would leave me unable to go to the office. And out the $100 for the day. Not to mention the additional $80 or so for his sister.

Lord, what have I gotten myself into?

Labels: life, me