I have written, and rewritten, this post several times now and I am consistently unhappy with it. I initially began writing about a friend at Dean's weekly gym class who just put her house on the market. Which turned into my anxieties of having an unknown moving date, which led into how I hope we don't move until the first week of January due to the holidays. Which led into how I want to spend Christmas with Ryan, Dean, and myself in our own house, which made me feel like I began to sound like a selfish brat that both of our families would be annoyed with. So I deleted it.
And here I am.
I have always enjoyed writing, but never truly loved it until college. My first semester of my junior year, I took ENG 304 with Mary Fuller. Anyone who has had the pleasure of knowing, or taken a class by Mary knows how special she is.
Our entire semester with her would be finalized by a portfolio as our final exam. We could write about anything. I was instantly frustrated as I had no idea what to write about. I had just come off of the worst summer of my life where I had read 16 books, ate a pint of ice cream every night for two months, and dealt with the death of my Mom.
I hope you know where this is going.
My Dad and I had just argued a week before my first class with Mary about my Mom's clothes, and I was, to say the least, a bit on edge. I had serious anxiety going back to Miami and being around the people that I had abruptly left at the end of my sophomore year, who knew what I had been through, but whom I hadn't yet faced. I was a ball of serious emotion.
And then I instantly knew what to write about. As obvious as it seems, it took me quite a while to figure it out - my Mom. I would use this class to write a tribute to my Mom who had passed away less than four months before.
This is where I began to love writing. I would sit down at my computer in my apartment and stare blankly at the screen and think. I could sit there for a long time, just not knowing what to say, but knowing that I had something to say. And then I began to write.
And what I ended up compiling in that one semester is some of my best, most truthful, raw, emotion filled, and honest writing. I couldn't be more proud of what I wrote.
I have always been quite wary to share my writing with others, always wondering if it is any "good." On one of the last days of class with Mary, we each had to read a piece of our portfolio to the class. I chose to read a two voice poem about my Mom and mine's last conversation. My amazingly strong friend Kristin read it with me. This was the first time that I publicly acknowledged that my Mom had recently passed away. I was shaking before I read it - and to note, it makes me just as nervous to this day as I have some serious butterflies in my stomach right now. Kristin read her part of my poem with her head down and her hands on the sides of her face, and I sat with my hands squished between my legs.
And we read.
And when we finished and I looked up, my writing was finally validated. I am a good writer.
Because when I looked up, I saw tears falling from each and every one of my peers' faces. The three boys that were in our class were wiping the tears from their faces, others sniffling, some looking down, some staring at me. And I smiled.
My writing did that. My writing caused this raw emotion in people that I had only known in class for 16 weeks. My writing made people feel.
Kristin held my hand as we read it one more time.
I suppose the purpose of this story is to remind myself that I should not be afraid to write what I feel in my heart. Whether it "feels" good or not, I have something to say. I cannot guarantee a happy outcome for my readers, but I can always guarantee that I will feel good about what I have to say.
So here's to not feeling ashamed about writing what I want to write. I will always be my worst critic, and I will always have a reader that does not like what I have to say. But the only way to know if I am a good writer or not, is to actually write.
So next time, when I'm afraid to write what I'm feeling because I'm afraid that I will offend someone, or hurt someones feelings, I will remember how free I felt that day during my junior year in Mary's class. How free I felt once I finally voiced what I had been feeling for so many months.
Here's to always remembering that you have a voice and knowing how to use it. Because the only misfortune that you can cause by your writing, is by not writing at all.
-Beth
Tuesday, October 28, 2014
Monday, October 20, 2014
"You're going to love it."
When people find out that we are moving south, and specifically to Raleigh, NC, they almost always say, "You know you're going to love it."
Well, here's a little secret. I DO hope I love it!
Why on earth would I want to live somewhere that I hate? I absolutely hope that I love it. Just from the five days we spent down there in March, I love it. It's gorgeous. There's SO much to do, the people are amazing, they have a Target, and a McAllister's - I'm pretty set.
But then people follow that comment up with this one, "And you're not going to want to come back."
Well, I'm sorry to bust your bubble, but yes, I am going to want to come back.
If you know me at all, I mean, if you really know me, you know that I want to come back. I honestly cannot imagine living away from both of our families for the rest of our lives. I know that people do it all of the time, I get that, but not me. I cannot simply leave behind everything that has influenced me, and made me who I am.
I want Dean to grow up going to Reds games like I did, I want him to go to Kings Island, see the WEBN fireworks, experience snow and the crazy Cincinnati weather. I want him to know and be close to everyone in our extended families.
Ryan and I are all about family. My parents raised me to know and love my family and to be close to them. Ryan as well. I would never keep Dean and whatever other kids we may have, away from my aunts, uncles, cousins, etc.
I personally cannot imagine never driving the streets that I grew up on and know so well again. I cannot imagine not seeing my best friend's little girl grow up, or not being able to go to my best friend's house or hang out with her whenever I want. I cannot imagine leaving my parents behind.
I often times laugh when people say this comment to me, but inside I am often times irritated. It's as if they don't believe me. And well, if you actually knew me, you'd know I'm coming home.
Are we going to have an amazing time in Raleigh? Yes. Are we going to love it? Yes. Are we going to be sad to leave? Yes. But are we going to come home - home to our families and everything we have ever known? Absolutely.
So here's to being excited for a new adventure and to knowing that I'm going to love North Carolina. But here's also to knowing where my heart truly lies, and that's here. Here in Cincinnati. Where my parents grew up, where I grew up, and where I want my kids to grow up.
xoxo,
Beth
Well, here's a little secret. I DO hope I love it!
Why on earth would I want to live somewhere that I hate? I absolutely hope that I love it. Just from the five days we spent down there in March, I love it. It's gorgeous. There's SO much to do, the people are amazing, they have a Target, and a McAllister's - I'm pretty set.
But then people follow that comment up with this one, "And you're not going to want to come back."
Well, I'm sorry to bust your bubble, but yes, I am going to want to come back.
If you know me at all, I mean, if you really know me, you know that I want to come back. I honestly cannot imagine living away from both of our families for the rest of our lives. I know that people do it all of the time, I get that, but not me. I cannot simply leave behind everything that has influenced me, and made me who I am.
I want Dean to grow up going to Reds games like I did, I want him to go to Kings Island, see the WEBN fireworks, experience snow and the crazy Cincinnati weather. I want him to know and be close to everyone in our extended families.
Ryan and I are all about family. My parents raised me to know and love my family and to be close to them. Ryan as well. I would never keep Dean and whatever other kids we may have, away from my aunts, uncles, cousins, etc.
I personally cannot imagine never driving the streets that I grew up on and know so well again. I cannot imagine not seeing my best friend's little girl grow up, or not being able to go to my best friend's house or hang out with her whenever I want. I cannot imagine leaving my parents behind.
I often times laugh when people say this comment to me, but inside I am often times irritated. It's as if they don't believe me. And well, if you actually knew me, you'd know I'm coming home.
Are we going to have an amazing time in Raleigh? Yes. Are we going to love it? Yes. Are we going to be sad to leave? Yes. But are we going to come home - home to our families and everything we have ever known? Absolutely.
So here's to being excited for a new adventure and to knowing that I'm going to love North Carolina. But here's also to knowing where my heart truly lies, and that's here. Here in Cincinnati. Where my parents grew up, where I grew up, and where I want my kids to grow up.
xoxo,
Beth
First Showing
One week ago, Ryan and I were sitting on the couch analyzing how we thought our first showing went. That's right. We had our first showing last Monday.
I texted Ryan Monday morning stating, "I'm not cleaning today. Sorry."
I knew I should have all weekend and talked about it constantly. But with a little boy that just wanted to snuggle due to his croup and yelled, "MOM" whenever I walked away, I didn't have the heart to go clean. So I figured I'd do it Monday.
Well, when Monday rolled around, I simply wasn't interested. And I let Ryan know.
Not even ten minutes after I told Ryan I was protesting cleaning, I got a text message reading, "First showing, 5:00-6:30. More details, click below."
Oh. My. Gosh.
I began to panic.
There was piled up mail on the kitchen table, jackets not hung up, books and laptops not in their usual places - I had my work cut out for me. Now, it was only a little after 11:00, but my mind was racing in a million directions thinking about what needed to get done in order to make the house "picture perfect." I honestly didn't know where to start. I even said out loud to myself, "Beth, calm down. Start in one room and work your way around." I had to do the basics: vacuum, Swiffer the hardwood, pick everything up. etc. But then I had to fold and put away all of the laundry that I had done over the weekend (6 loads), do one more load of towels that were out (no one is interested in visiting your house and seeing your shower towels drying over the shower curtain), make the bed, clean the toilets, the bathrooms...oh my goodness.
I fed Dean lunch quickly and decided that I had zero time to sit down and eat. Time was valuable at this point, and I got to work.
Honestly, I don't know how I got so lucky, but Dean was amazing. He played in his pack n' play without much complaining, jumped in his jumper, and took a decent nap so that I could fold all of the laundry. I thought that I had all of the time in the world at 11:00. But when it was 3:30 and I still had to vacuum, Swiffer the floors, etc. I began to panic.
At 4:45 I was Swiffering the downstairs as fast as I could and saying, out loud, "Please don't come early! Please don't come early!" I had just enough time to finish Swiffering, get the dog and Dean, get the laundry basket full of stuff I'd thrown in that I didn't have time to deal with (shout out to Jamie for that tip!), get in the car and go.
That's right. I had to take Dean and our dog with me on this fun hour and a half adventure we were about to have. I was out the door with everything and everyone at 4:53, sweating, hungry, and red faced.
So now what? What do you do for an hour and a half with a dog and one year old? Well, we first drove across town to Mason to get a Kidd Coffee - a well deserved treat for all of my hard work - as I knew that would eat up a good chunk of time. Then we came back to the neighborhood and I parked across the street at the park. Ryan met us there when he got off of work.
Now, going to the park is 100% the best place to spy on who is looking at our house. I got back home around 5:50 and no one was there. When Ryan got there at 6:00 - they were there! We tried really hard not to pace back in forth in front of the house, but we would check periodically to see if they were gone or not.
They left at 6:40 and we began our speculations. When are we going to hear anything? Do you think they liked it? How could they not!? Is Carolyn going to call us? We spent the rest of the night laying on the couch in an excited frenzy.
On Tuesday morning I texted Ryan and said, "Anything!?" He answered, "Just emailed you."
Perfect.
Not.
We got feedback from the couple's realtor - they basically hated it. The price was too high. They liked the laundry room on the second floor and vaulted ceiling in the master bedroom, but thought the rest was outdated. I'm sorry. OUTDATED!? This must be some type of a sick joke. Our house wasn't built in the 1800s, it was built in 2002. How "outdated" could our house be exactly? You mean the year old hardwood floors throughout the house, the year old carpet, the year old stainless steal appliances, the newly renovated bathroom on the first floor, the entire house that has been painted?
I instantly called Ryan and said something along the lines of, "Are they serious!? What idiots! They obviously didn't do their homework! What do they mean it's OUTDATED. Did they even look at the house?! I'm so offended!"
That's right. I took this 100% personally. But how can you not? I know I shouldn't, but that's so much easier said than done. I know that we only need one person to love it, but it's difficult to not take something personally when you've put a lot of time and effort into it, and that holds so many memories for you.
So now we wait - again. I'm planning on cleaning tomorrow, so I'm sure no one will want to see it then. I was positive they would want to today when we had a day full of plans. Thank goodness I got lucky on that one!
Here's to keeping a positive attitude and to being happy that we have a few more weeks at home. Because really, I am.
xoxo,
Beth
I texted Ryan Monday morning stating, "I'm not cleaning today. Sorry."
I knew I should have all weekend and talked about it constantly. But with a little boy that just wanted to snuggle due to his croup and yelled, "MOM" whenever I walked away, I didn't have the heart to go clean. So I figured I'd do it Monday.
Well, when Monday rolled around, I simply wasn't interested. And I let Ryan know.
Not even ten minutes after I told Ryan I was protesting cleaning, I got a text message reading, "First showing, 5:00-6:30. More details, click below."
Oh. My. Gosh.
I began to panic.
There was piled up mail on the kitchen table, jackets not hung up, books and laptops not in their usual places - I had my work cut out for me. Now, it was only a little after 11:00, but my mind was racing in a million directions thinking about what needed to get done in order to make the house "picture perfect." I honestly didn't know where to start. I even said out loud to myself, "Beth, calm down. Start in one room and work your way around." I had to do the basics: vacuum, Swiffer the hardwood, pick everything up. etc. But then I had to fold and put away all of the laundry that I had done over the weekend (6 loads), do one more load of towels that were out (no one is interested in visiting your house and seeing your shower towels drying over the shower curtain), make the bed, clean the toilets, the bathrooms...oh my goodness.
I fed Dean lunch quickly and decided that I had zero time to sit down and eat. Time was valuable at this point, and I got to work.
Honestly, I don't know how I got so lucky, but Dean was amazing. He played in his pack n' play without much complaining, jumped in his jumper, and took a decent nap so that I could fold all of the laundry. I thought that I had all of the time in the world at 11:00. But when it was 3:30 and I still had to vacuum, Swiffer the floors, etc. I began to panic.
At 4:45 I was Swiffering the downstairs as fast as I could and saying, out loud, "Please don't come early! Please don't come early!" I had just enough time to finish Swiffering, get the dog and Dean, get the laundry basket full of stuff I'd thrown in that I didn't have time to deal with (shout out to Jamie for that tip!), get in the car and go.
That's right. I had to take Dean and our dog with me on this fun hour and a half adventure we were about to have. I was out the door with everything and everyone at 4:53, sweating, hungry, and red faced.
So now what? What do you do for an hour and a half with a dog and one year old? Well, we first drove across town to Mason to get a Kidd Coffee - a well deserved treat for all of my hard work - as I knew that would eat up a good chunk of time. Then we came back to the neighborhood and I parked across the street at the park. Ryan met us there when he got off of work.
Now, going to the park is 100% the best place to spy on who is looking at our house. I got back home around 5:50 and no one was there. When Ryan got there at 6:00 - they were there! We tried really hard not to pace back in forth in front of the house, but we would check periodically to see if they were gone or not.
They left at 6:40 and we began our speculations. When are we going to hear anything? Do you think they liked it? How could they not!? Is Carolyn going to call us? We spent the rest of the night laying on the couch in an excited frenzy.
On Tuesday morning I texted Ryan and said, "Anything!?" He answered, "Just emailed you."
Perfect.
Not.
We got feedback from the couple's realtor - they basically hated it. The price was too high. They liked the laundry room on the second floor and vaulted ceiling in the master bedroom, but thought the rest was outdated. I'm sorry. OUTDATED!? This must be some type of a sick joke. Our house wasn't built in the 1800s, it was built in 2002. How "outdated" could our house be exactly? You mean the year old hardwood floors throughout the house, the year old carpet, the year old stainless steal appliances, the newly renovated bathroom on the first floor, the entire house that has been painted?
I instantly called Ryan and said something along the lines of, "Are they serious!? What idiots! They obviously didn't do their homework! What do they mean it's OUTDATED. Did they even look at the house?! I'm so offended!"
That's right. I took this 100% personally. But how can you not? I know I shouldn't, but that's so much easier said than done. I know that we only need one person to love it, but it's difficult to not take something personally when you've put a lot of time and effort into it, and that holds so many memories for you.
So now we wait - again. I'm planning on cleaning tomorrow, so I'm sure no one will want to see it then. I was positive they would want to today when we had a day full of plans. Thank goodness I got lucky on that one!
Here's to keeping a positive attitude and to being happy that we have a few more weeks at home. Because really, I am.
xoxo,
Beth
Thursday, October 9, 2014
Please DON'T come to see my house today
For the past two weeks my phone has been permanently attached to me. I'm constantly checking it to see if my realtor emailed me, or if I missed a call from her. I've been praying daily that someone will want to come and see our house.
I've even said to Ryan, "Do you think anyone will ever want to see our house!?"
And he so kindly replies, "Beth. It has been two weeks."
Right again, dangit.
But today was different. I was praying that no one would want to come see our house.
At just about this time yesterday, when Dean got up from his nap, I heard a fun barking sound - that wasn't our dog. "Are you kidding me. That's freaking croup," I said to no one in particular. Crap.
So this morning as I'm getting ready and giving Dean a bath, I'm praying that no one will want to come see our house. I had to take Dean to the doctor and of course that would be the time I would get a phone call saying that someone would like to be there in an hour. Well, I have a sick kid, a napping dog (I assume, but that's 80% of his daily activities), and a house that isn't presentable.
Not today.
So far so good.
It's amazing what we pray or wish for on a daily basis, and how quickly that can change. I have honestly been obsessed with checking my phone for any indication that someone called me. It has been, admittedly, ridiculous.
But today I couldn't imagine having a sick baby at the doctor, with a possible trip downtown to Children's for breathing treatments, and someone saying, "Why yes. Today, this rainy, lovely day, we would like to see your house. See you in 30!" I may have cried.
Well, God is great - as always - and He's constantly looking out for us.
Dean luckily reacted well to the steroid injection that he received at the doctors office, which prevented any immediate trips to Children's. You wouldn't even know that he's sick just by looking at him. He just climbed on the couch and shut all of the blinds, and handed me my usual musical instrument - the egg shaker. And just got mad that I wouldn't let him touch the computer. Typical.
So thank God - literally, thank God, that today has just been a sick day in the Morrow household and nothing more.
Here's to getting better and a - fingers crossed - sleep filled night for all.
Oh, and for me going to get my hair cut. No but seriously. Ryan, I have to leave in 50 minutes.
xoxo,
Beth
I've even said to Ryan, "Do you think anyone will ever want to see our house!?"
And he so kindly replies, "Beth. It has been two weeks."
Right again, dangit.
But today was different. I was praying that no one would want to come see our house.
At just about this time yesterday, when Dean got up from his nap, I heard a fun barking sound - that wasn't our dog. "Are you kidding me. That's freaking croup," I said to no one in particular. Crap.
So this morning as I'm getting ready and giving Dean a bath, I'm praying that no one will want to come see our house. I had to take Dean to the doctor and of course that would be the time I would get a phone call saying that someone would like to be there in an hour. Well, I have a sick kid, a napping dog (I assume, but that's 80% of his daily activities), and a house that isn't presentable.
Not today.
So far so good.
It's amazing what we pray or wish for on a daily basis, and how quickly that can change. I have honestly been obsessed with checking my phone for any indication that someone called me. It has been, admittedly, ridiculous.
But today I couldn't imagine having a sick baby at the doctor, with a possible trip downtown to Children's for breathing treatments, and someone saying, "Why yes. Today, this rainy, lovely day, we would like to see your house. See you in 30!" I may have cried.
Well, God is great - as always - and He's constantly looking out for us.
Dean luckily reacted well to the steroid injection that he received at the doctors office, which prevented any immediate trips to Children's. You wouldn't even know that he's sick just by looking at him. He just climbed on the couch and shut all of the blinds, and handed me my usual musical instrument - the egg shaker. And just got mad that I wouldn't let him touch the computer. Typical.
So thank God - literally, thank God, that today has just been a sick day in the Morrow household and nothing more.
Here's to getting better and a - fingers crossed - sleep filled night for all.
Oh, and for me going to get my hair cut. No but seriously. Ryan, I have to leave in 50 minutes.
xoxo,
Beth
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