tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-209826632012-01-28T20:05:30.479-05:00Doesn't anyone believe in Dear Diary anymore? What happened to the joy of putting actual pen to paper? And why does every ordinary Jane and John think they can write well enough to burden the world with their scribblings? It’s a mystery that badly needs solving. My first entry contains my thoughts about blogging and will set your expectations. The rest will probably be stream of consciousness garbage, much like you’ll find on any other blog. Perhaps we will both come away enlightened.Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.comBlogger7501100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-77172932918777487032011-12-02T10:49:00.003-05:002011-12-02T11:28:19.325-05:00

Well, I just kind of disappeared there, didn't I??? My apologies to my readers! I do miss my blog and all of you and the catharsis I get from writing.  But there have been lots of changes in my life of late, most of them positive. The biggest news is that I reached goal and became an employee of Weight Watchers. I'm currently in training and hope to be a leader by early next year. WOW, is

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-24126921750466672652011-09-11T13:28:00.003-05:002011-09-11T16:45:36.655-05:00

We took our boys to Open Hand Saturday afternoon to do some volunteer work. Open Hand provides nutritious balanced meals for shut ins; disabled, ill or elderly folks who would otherwise go without a hot meal each day. We thought it was a great cause and a great way to give our kids a broader world view. Growing up in Suburbia is safe and sanitary, but terribly homogenized. Our boys don't really

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-77059524910011258732011-08-09T17:15:00.003-05:002011-08-09T18:37:01.283-05:00

Tomorrow is my birthday. It's my first without my Mother. It's one of the very last firsts we have to get through, though I'm not sure it really makes losing her any easier. My Auntie Carol called me to say happy birthday, knowing I'm sure, how I'm feeling. But I wonder if she knows that every time I talk to her, I fear it will be last and that as with my Mother, I won't get home in time to say

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-92061256386246471782011-07-07T16:34:00.004-05:002011-07-07T17:05:02.896-05:00

The other day in the grocery store, I ran into an acquaintance I hadn't seen in a couple of years. We used to see each other regularly because our boys attended the same school and played ball for the same park. But then they moved on to different high schools and Pubescent One decided to take a break from baseball in favor of seeking gainful employment; the ultimate goal being...WHEELS. I said

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-54565478530737546722011-07-02T15:56:00.002-05:002011-07-04T13:20:18.290-05:00

A long time ago, Husband and I had a forum type website that was centered mostly on parenting that was populated mostly by women. It went balls up in the face of some pretty nasty fighting. We closed it down and moved on without much regret. Though I was glad to be done with it all (too much work, too much stess, no money) I did and do miss some of the truly amazing women that I met there. Oh

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-29131300729135119282011-06-29T09:36:00.003-05:002011-06-29T10:13:14.128-05:00

Last night I started a new Zumba class at a local ballet studio. When I arrived, class was in session for the two year olds. Yes, two. Two year olds taking ballet. Well, it wasn't so much "ballet" as it was "herding and constantly redirecting". Cute, but kind of silly, if you ask me. Nevertheless, the mothers in the waiting area chatted excitedly as they watched their offspring through a

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-21768710810668683912011-06-25T20:20:00.002-05:002011-06-25T20:28:48.369-05:00

As you may have surmised, I was pretty tightly wound yesterday. I tried not to think about the number on the calendar and the celebration that wasn't taking place. I didn't want to cry. Friends, I tell you, I am so very, very weary of tears. So I wrote yesterday's entry and then I tried to pretend it was just any other day. The funny thing about pretending...it's easy to pretend to other people

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-12945044007418081672011-06-24T11:01:00.002-05:002011-06-24T12:34:13.180-05:00

Today is my Mom's birthday. I'm trying not to be sad. It's one of the firsts in a great many we are suffering through this year. I can't let each and every one drag me down into the depths of despair. I'm trying to focus on the good times and the happy moments, because there are so, so, so many. And because it would really annoy her to know that we all sit around thinking maudlin thoughts every

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-60379164247475569472011-06-19T12:15:00.001-05:002011-06-19T18:43:43.644-05:00

My science and fact obsessed Diminutive One recently discovered a new series on the Science channel called "Through The Wormhole". The first episode queried...Is there life after death? We watched it together. His grandmother's recent passing has raised a lot of questions about the issue of death, dying, afterlife, religion, heaven, hell, reincarnation...the topic is indeed a vast wandering

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-38605141740268920012011-06-14T10:51:00.004-05:002011-06-14T13:14:54.593-05:00

I'm sitting in Starbuck's trying to kill two hours. I will be doing this every day for the next four weeks. Why?, you may ask. I asked myself the very same question. Because it seems patently ridiculous to me, this shameless waste of two hours. And yet, shameless though it may be, it seems the only logical thing to do. Diminutive One, you see, has to be in summer school, having failed to pass

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-87577015995774389132011-06-14T10:04:00.001-05:002011-06-14T10:04:52.695-05:00

Testing blogging with Word. Wonder if this will work properly. Nothing I do technology wise ever works properly on the first go round. Good thing I have my own in house tech support. Here goes nothing….

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-72651547754145386242011-05-31T16:06:00.003-05:002011-06-01T15:12:24.692-05:00

I haven't looked at my Statcounter numbers in over a year, I'm guessing. I used to check it every day for traffic rankings, audience and page view statistics, referral data...it was very, very important to me. I don't know when or why it stopped being so important to me. I literally forgot the Statcounter was even there. But recently, prompted by the new "statistics" feature that blogger has

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-11919699569277976712011-05-27T12:26:00.000-05:002011-05-27T12:26:45.207-05:00

If you're a parent, then you know that people are very free with the advice when you're expecting. Most of it is well intentioned. Some of it is preachy and self righteous. Some of it is patently ridiculous. (Did I ever tell you the story about the advice I was given by an, ummmm, rurally located relative of Husband's regarding freshly laid hens eggs and teething? No? Remind me to.) And, if you

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-35626311303077371802011-05-20T11:36:00.008-05:002011-05-21T17:00:23.137-05:00

 Linkin Park~Waiting For The End Mika~Any Other World Kansas~Dust In The Wind Duran Duran~Save A Prayer Depeche Mode~Blasphemous Rumors Alphaville~Forever Young Death Cab For Cutie~Soul Meets Body Howard Jones~No One Is To Blame Journey~Who's Cryin' Now Simon and Garfunkel~The Sounds Of Silence Duran Duran~What Happens Tomorrow Billy Joel~Only the Good Die Young

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-9774599820979243462011-05-18T15:40:00.004-05:002011-05-19T10:21:07.596-05:00

It's no secret that I'm not a big fan of overt displays of religious fervor. Where I come from, religious affiliation is a very personal issue and not one that people broadcast at every opportunity. Northern people are very conservative when it comes to publicly expressing their religious views. Which is why, after 20 years in the South, I still cringe when someone slips a little halle-LU-jah

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-63084204693482214232011-05-17T12:57:00.001-05:002011-05-17T17:10:07.539-05:00

I want to tell you about this thing that happened. I don't know why I feel like I need to tell this story, but I do. And yet, I feel silly putting it down in black and white. Because honestly, I feel silly believing it. But I do, despite my efforts to reason, justify, rationalize and explain it some other way. I do believe it. Maybe because I really, really want to. About a month ago, my sister

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-73771367246943765852011-05-16T13:48:00.002-05:002011-05-16T13:55:14.251-05:00

Recently...my sons and I all had to face something that we feared. I wanted to be strong for them, because that's what Moms do. I wanted to seem as though I could face my own fear and laugh in it's face. I wanted to seem indomitable and determined and really, really badass. But I wasn't feeling very badass. I was feeling like I wanted my Mommy. I wanted her to tell me that she knew I could do

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-36385755025989842532011-05-08T15:07:00.005-05:002011-05-08T15:45:51.107-05:00

I used to lament not having girls. And I used to think I would simply keep churning out children until my womb yielded a child with the proper assortment of sex organs. I believed that I would have my girl. That's not exactly how things worked out, and as it happens, its really all for the best. But... When I was pregnant with my first child, I cried the the day I found out I was having a boy.

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-76770374397113579352011-04-15T13:27:00.002-05:002011-04-15T15:44:15.399-05:00

I'm teaching my first Zumba class on Friday, May 6th. I am scared to DEATH. Since finalizing the details with the owner of the facility where I'll be conducting my classes, I've felt sick to my stomach and had nothing but doubts about my ability to actually pull this off. I have been absolutely dreading that day and looking at it as something I just have to endure if I'm going to make it as an

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-47544492689794114652011-04-10T11:57:00.001-05:002011-04-10T15:09:44.634-05:00

At first, it's hard to see the changes. They are not profound or life altering when you have such a long journey ahead of you. But small things, such as being able to paint one's own toenails without becoming hypoxic, become big milestones. A person has to have something to celebrate each and every day, or they simply cannot keep going. This is why Weight Watchers teaches their members to

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-39549822923712455392011-04-05T14:04:00.005-05:002011-04-05T16:37:20.174-05:00

Yesterday evening, still stiff and sore from my instructor training, which consisted of seven looooooooooong hours of pretty intense physical activity with few breaks, I lowered myself into a steaming hot bath with a geriatric groan, followed by a long sigh of supreme satisfaction. I sank down slowly until the water covered all of me, something that used to be an impossibility. Even if I stuffed

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-3020350606725444702011-04-03T12:19:00.002-05:002011-04-03T13:01:38.837-05:00

As of 7:00 p.m. EST Saturday, April 2, 2011..... I am a certified ZUMBA INSTRUCTOR.Me. This girl.... But I'm not really that person anymore; inside or outside. This is who I am now... My body is strong and fit. And I won't lie...that's an AMAZING feeling. But the changes that have taken place inside are ten times more life changing. Eighteen months ago, I would never have had the confidence

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-36574864277628574222011-03-24T14:19:00.001-05:002011-03-24T17:29:35.603-05:00

Remember my "FaceBible" post? Yeah...I just couldn't take it any more. This ought to be interesting... I am  an Atheist. There, I said it. Furthermore, I am raising my children as Atheists as well. No, wait. That's not altogether true. What I am teaching them, I hope, is to find and embrace a belief system that is most compatible with what they feel deep in their hearts. I was raised in a

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-91333817894824924882011-03-08T13:49:00.000-05:002011-03-08T13:49:19.010-05:00

This piece was originally written in July 2008. I'm reposting because I'm saddened and somewhat sickened by the intolerance and unkindness shown by some of my fellow human beings. You know who you are, or you would, if you read my blog, which you don't, because that would mean stepping outside your little circle of like-minded bigotry. There is another piece to follow, also a repost, but also, I

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-77839365195883459552011-02-28T15:44:00.008-05:002011-03-02T16:29:02.739-05:00

I was okay until I saw the notebook. My sisters and I recently travelled to a tiny, picturesque little town in Northern Wisconsin to visit my Auntie Carol. Maybe you remember her...I've written about her before. Throughout our lives, she was really more like a grandmother to us, just as she had been more like a mother to my mother. She was 17 years old when her only sister entered the world

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-3912311634952795352011-02-15T15:04:00.007-05:002011-02-16T14:03:56.642-05:00

The other day on Facebook, I broke my own rule about keeping it light and fun and frivolous. Ironic, isn't it, after the FaceBible post I made only a few weeks ago? Honestly, I didn't mean to do it. If I hadn't been in such a harried and hopeless state, I never would have posted something so inflammatory, nor the subsequent responses to the replies it generated. What was this heinous thing I

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-55147651552223428092011-02-05T17:16:00.002-05:002011-02-05T21:54:51.073-05:00

We brush against one another in the hallway and  he mumbles "'Scuse me Mom." That seems to be the extent of our relationship these days. I always thought we'd talk; real talking like we once did, when he used to crawl into bed with me and tell me his secrets. Now his secrets are his own and his life outside our home is a mystery to me. I really thought that wouldn't happen with my boys. I

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-59116191921718540392011-02-03T12:52:00.002-05:002011-02-03T18:13:37.840-05:00

....ay, there's the rub."  ~Wm. Shakespeare When I awaken, I don't remember having dreamt. Which means that for the first time in months, I haven't been awakened by the cold fingers of dread scraping down my spine, or the tickle or tears pooling in my ears. But then I stumble to the bathroom, where my reflection reveals eyes that are hugely swollen above and darkly bruised below. And then I know

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-9953344914456397262011-01-31T15:56:00.006-05:002011-02-01T17:09:35.526-05:00

You know...from a purely sociological standpoint, Facebook is incredibly interesting. I'm sure there are studies being done as we speak and in twenty years when results are published, we'll find out that human beings en masse behave exactly the same online as they do in real life. That is to say, they are largely social lemmings (though of course, exceptions do exist);  following the example of

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-28116720393272173492011-01-19T14:33:00.002-05:002011-01-19T21:37:34.624-05:00

There's a lot of pressure when it comes to being a Mom. Not only are we responsible for our childrens' physical well-being, but their mental, emotional and moral development as well. That's a pretty big load to shoulder. Sometimes, I think I'm doing an adequate job. Sometimes, I'm sure I am failing on every level. I never feel like I am a good Mom or a great Mom. Many of you know the struggles

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-58438938241601265652011-01-14T23:36:00.002-05:002011-01-15T09:28:16.586-05:00

Oh, my dear readers. How I love you. First, because you take such unabashed delight in my shame, but also because you have proven that you are a bunch of bawdy, randy, raunchy old broads like me. We should form a club! It seems that my post yesterday spawned a barrage of requests for my naughty songs playlist. And I will gladly share it with you, because my day is not complete until I have

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-55701927144613938812011-01-13T12:32:00.006-05:002011-01-14T12:17:07.264-05:00

Being 40 is sometimes a little surreal, I find. Not that I can't believe I'm forty; I see the evidence in the mirror every day. I like to think that I'm aging well, but I see the fine lines beneath my eyes and a certain softness around my jawline that wasn't there ten years ago. I look down and see my grandmother's hands at the ends of my wrists. And I mourn the loss of resilience and bounce that

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-61572777781722800892011-01-12T11:41:00.000-05:002011-01-12T11:41:35.894-05:00

This painting is called "Flaming June" and even the name makes me feel light-hearted. It warms me body and soul to look upon her. Thanks to my husband, she now hangs above my bed, where I can visit her any time I like. She never fails to make me smile. And now, on this cold, frozen January day, I want to share her with you. May she give you the warmth and comfort that she gives me. The color

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-21909171194141583372011-01-10T19:03:00.001-05:002011-01-10T19:08:38.208-05:00

I know....you guys think I've got all my shit together. I am a confident, well adjusted, organized, now healthy person with purpose, goals and an awesome husband who supports them. Why wouldn't my life be completely idyllic, right? God...where to begin. First let me say, the purpose of this post is not to gain sympathy. It really isn't. But I like to think that I keep it real here at BAS, and

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-54521522758715279402010-12-28T08:28:00.006-05:002010-12-28T20:42:29.927-05:00

I want to tell you a story. It's a story about many things, but ultimately, it's about empowerment. I think a lot of us spend too much time feeling hopeless, helpless and powerless. But it is within each of us to change that. My Mom's greatest legacy to me and my sisters, was knowledge and confidence; knoweldge that we can do anything we set out to do and confidence to face change without fear.

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-15997182663386631382010-12-26T13:18:00.000-05:002010-12-26T13:18:34.262-05:00

Merry Christmas from the Antagonist Family L to R : Diminutive One, BA, Hubs, Pubescent One Doesn't Hubs look great? He's lost 50lbs. He and I are going to begin training to run a marathon in March. YIKES! Doesn't PPO look like a giant? I sometimes forget how big he is until I see a picture of him next to me or his Dad. And I was wearing three inch heels. DO is from my gene pool obviously. I

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-70168690093487925592010-12-23T12:30:00.003-05:002010-12-26T13:00:58.402-05:00

Originally published in 2006 under the title "Chicken Soup for the Granddaughter's Soul".  I'm republishing today because I am making soup and remembering. My Mom's death has added a new dimension to the soup legacy. Read the footnote for further thoughts on that. I'b sick. It happens every year. The kids go back to school and bring back germs. They get a little sniffle sniffle, a little koff

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-43244037848143172852010-12-21T11:58:00.003-05:002010-12-21T12:58:39.333-05:00

I think a lot of my readers (perhaps former readers might be more accurate, as I've not been exactly prolific of late) originally came to BAS because of the tales I shared about my Diminutive One, who has ADHD, Asperger's, and a genetically inherited stubborn streak that makes parenting him a challenge even on his most stellar days. You may remember the story about how my son was bullied

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-73725877131028136812010-12-19T11:20:00.002-05:002010-12-19T12:11:21.568-05:00

(Reposted from almost the exact same time last year) This season defeats me. My mother never liked Christmas, though she made a valiant effort to hide that fact. She decorated the house and she made a dazzling array of cakes and candy. But her heart wasn't in it. When I was a young child, I didn't and couldn't realize that of course. But as I got older, I knew. It wasn't something that was

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-24116691083103932012010-12-12T14:53:00.004-05:002010-12-12T20:11:51.455-05:00

Okay, sorry...I know I've let you down. But I just don't have the mental fortitude or the heart for the post I promised on the whole "faith is a choice" concept. But I do have other stuff to share. Though it's not my usual fare, it is something that I've become passionate about. Exercise. WAIT! Don't run away yet, please. I know it's an intimidating topic. Diet and exercise are scary things

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-52131862457787375452010-11-11T12:36:00.000-05:002010-11-11T12:36:23.843-05:00

I am going to write about something besides how sad I am. I swayer. And I even have a few ideas. I do want to start writing daily again, but I'm on my third week as a single parent (husband is working out of town training at new job. Oh, you didn't know he lost his job again? For the second time in less than a year? Well he did.) and things are just crazy. I honestly don't know how single

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-78434391096189843132010-11-03T13:43:00.004-05:002010-11-04T12:04:26.532-05:00

I am a born skeptic. A Doubting Thomas. A "seeing is believing" kinda gal. A fitting epitaph for my headstone would be "Prove it". To some of you, this will come as no surprise. Many of the pieces I have written here have been expressions of skepticism regarding a variety of topics, but mostly religion and theology. Faith is an alien concept for me.  I need to know beyond a shadow of a doubt

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-1591878764695465682010-10-25T13:20:00.004-05:002010-10-25T20:25:50.497-05:00

I think another reason I am struggling so much to accept the death of my Mother, is that I have no concrete beliefs about what happens to a person's soul after they die. I would like to believe in Heaven. It would be really awesome to think my Mom is now in a place where she is not tethered to her concentrator like a dog on a leash and where her lungs are not the shrivelled useless things they

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-85856087762470804952010-10-22T18:18:00.004-05:002010-10-23T12:12:33.886-05:00

My mother died last week. If you've been around this blog for any period of time, you know that my mother was my hero and my best friend. I am completely and totally unhinged. It was unexpected and due to circumstances, somewhat horrifying. My Mom, you see...had lost ONE HUNDRED pounds recently. Though chronically ill, she had improved her health drastically. Her condition (COPD) was

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-39082288156223844542010-10-06T09:57:00.006-05:002010-10-06T19:39:56.729-05:00

In the fall of 2009, shortly after my fortieth birthday, I began having dizzy spells that seemed to occur with no particular rhyme or reason. They were absolutely terrifying. My world would spin wildly out of control without warning and each episode left me gasping with shock and trembling with fear. The brain I knew, controls the very delicate equilibrium that keeps us all upright and spatially

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com38tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-38072406897333445572010-04-18T22:12:00.000-05:002010-04-18T22:12:26.100-05:00

I know...I am a horrible tease. I throw that "Hey ya'll, I'm baaaaaaack" out there and then....nothing. Forgive me for making excuses, but I really have had a traumatic week. I wasn't going to write about it here, because I feel like all I've written over the past year are poor pitiful me type posts, and I was really hoping to start back to blogging on a more positive note. But this is truly 

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-35791897254122420302010-04-11T23:14:00.001-05:002010-04-11T23:18:13.899-05:00

I've had to take some time off to work on some personal issues; mainly health, both physical and mental. I've accomplished a lot and I feel better. And I find myself once again with so very much to say. The question is...is there anyone remaining to whom I may say it? Well, maybe not, but the voice...it keeps me up at night needing to be heard. So even if I am speaking into vast empty chasm

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com34tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-89559072059390578832009-12-15T15:06:00.003-05:002009-12-15T20:46:22.756-05:00

I used to write a cutesy holiday letter every year. Living so far away from family on both sides, it seemed like a justifiable indulgence. But I stopped a couple of years ago in lieu of  a favorite candid photograph from my vast library of digital photos. There are several reasons for that. I have always liked getting holiday letters and I am often quite crestfallen when an envelope yields

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-90980377549949993412009-12-06T20:42:00.001-05:002009-12-06T20:54:55.725-05:00

(Reposted from almost the exact same time last year) This season defeats me. My mother never liked Christmas, though she made a valiant effort to hide that fact. She decorated the house and she made a dazzling array of cakes and candy. But her heart wasn't in it. When I was a young child, I didn't and couldn't realize that of course. But as I got older, I knew. It wasn't something that was

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-8597020174842775002009-11-17T18:26:00.004-05:002009-11-18T20:13:50.673-05:00

Click Here to Send Me a Friend Request If you don't think I'll recognize you by your Facebook name, just send me a little msg. with your username or the name under which you comment. Sorry if you already emailed me. I know I'm asking you to take an extra step. I just realized I'm kind of a dumbass and it wasn't very practical for me to reply to that many emails with my FB information. Thanks!

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-90938644603526598992009-11-15T19:57:00.000-05:002009-11-15T19:57:04.389-05:00

If you wanna be my "friend" on Facebook....email me. I just signed on for a new writing project with a great big fancy schmancy Los Angeles marketing firm, (which scares me to death, frankly) and hopefully have another one in the works. I'm also committed to regaining my health, so I have been working out faithfully for an hour a day. And starting next week, I am going to try very, very hard

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-59143114213237915552009-10-28T19:47:00.003-05:002009-10-28T22:37:35.070-05:00

Oh...hello interwebs. Long time no see. S'up? Me?  Oh nothing. Same ole, same ole. Oh wait, there was that thing on Saturday, where I inadvertantly seared my eyeballs with a caustic substance known to cause permanent blindness. Good Lord...wouldn't you think the Antagonist family has met their quota of crises this year? Well...you would be wrong. Saturday, after waking early to walk at

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-18117373271742804012009-10-21T17:02:00.000-05:002009-10-21T17:02:14.477-05:00

I've written a couple times about the evils of Social Media. And I meant everything I said.  But I find that being employed full time seriously infringes upon my freedom to waste time, as I simply have no time to waste. I find that blogging is a time suck that I just don't have time to indulge the way I used to; reading or writing. And I miss everyone, yannow? I feel disconnected and out of the

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-49390342828992653582009-10-14T14:21:00.002-05:002009-10-14T19:39:13.191-05:00

I try really hard to keep the lines of communication open with my kids. I want them to know that they can come to me with any problem, dilemma, or decision. I want them to know I will always give them the truth,  no matter how difficult that might be. I had great parents, but there wasn't a lot of real nitty gritty discussion going on between parents and kids in those days. I wouldn't have

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-18759439000332640612009-10-12T20:37:00.000-05:002009-10-12T20:37:55.132-05:00

My  Mom was like..."I don't even remember the circumstances behind this picture. But why in the world wouldn't I have waited until my hair was dry and combed out? Personally, I think there's a larger question at issue here, Mom.

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-34583578996458308102009-10-10T12:32:00.001-05:002009-10-10T12:36:55.580-05:00

Those of you who have been reading me for any period of time, know that I am a girly girl. I love make-up, nail polish, hair doo-dads, shoes, clothes, jewelry. And you also know that my proclivity towards hyper feminism, is due to the fact that my mother was a hairdresser during my formative years. She tells of how, even as a young child, I would sit quite happily and let her put my hair in

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-89932050853876922162009-10-05T16:06:00.001-05:002009-10-05T18:38:12.606-05:00

I can't do it people. I can't keep up with everything in my life and update this blog regularly too. I try. I have good intentions. But somehow it doesn't get done. And I have to admit, where once this blog was a lifeline for me...a way to keep my mind from atrophying into a superfluous lump...now, it's just one more thing on a list too long for me to ever get to the bottom of. (Edited to add

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-83919204919658351272009-09-24T22:28:00.005-05:002009-09-24T22:44:09.395-05:00

My life is not terribly interesting. One might even say, it's mundane. But I try to see something extraordinary in the ordinary, and often, I find that I can. I spend a lot of time writing about that. I guess maybe that's my way of making my humble little existence a little more meaningful and exciting. But this year...this year it seems like there has been nothing but one death, drama or

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-24485239631160057282009-09-20T14:10:00.009-05:002009-09-21T08:52:12.003-05:00

Look at these beautiful little boys. Just look at them. Don't they make your heart ache? I didn't know this photograph existed until recently. It had been hidden away for many years along with the very few momentos that survive from that time. I found it in a box under a 70 year old newspaper dated August 14th, 1945 which was emblazoned with a  bold black headline..... WAR ENDS!! TRUMAN

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-83392787833159339542009-09-16T15:00:00.002-05:002009-09-16T23:18:03.281-05:00

I know, I know...I suck. I haven't gone two weeks without posting since I started this blog. But with work, and health issues...it's been crazy and exhausting. Now, my boys have the swine flu. I knew they had the flu, but I didn't expect it to be anything but the run of the mill influenza A or B. But when the doctor and both nurses returned to the exam room after doing nasal swabs on the boys,

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-34878027678869720862009-09-04T20:18:00.006-05:002009-09-06T18:24:59.597-05:00

It's weird having a High Schooler. So many things have changed. For instance, I no longer have to prove that he sprang from my loins before taking him out of school (Incidentally, stretch marks don't count). There is a teacher parking lot and a student parking lot, which just kind of blows my mind. He gets himself up, showered and fed and has made his own transportation arrangements. But

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-7899744902482307512009-08-28T22:05:00.008-05:002009-08-29T19:43:37.024-05:00

When I was a little girl, my Dad worked for a company called "Cigarette Service". It was a vending company that installed and serviced cigarette machines, video and pinball games, and best of all...jukeboxes. In reality, it barely kept our family of five fed, but to my sisters and me, it seemed like a very prestigious and important job. When the 45's were taken out of rotation, my Dad brought

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-37378876981641811272009-08-25T11:13:00.004-05:002011-02-16T11:23:11.548-05:00

but it isn't Meniere's disease either. Now I wish it was. Last night at about 5:30 the phone rang. I knew it was the doctor's office from the caller ID, but when I realized it was the doctor calling herself, my heart sunk a little bit. It seems that my brain shows evidence of several strokes, one of which has damaged my cerebellum. The cerebellum is responsible for the integration of sensory

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com28tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-15726308216043349972009-08-23T12:09:00.004-05:002009-08-23T16:27:13.634-05:00

Whew. I am sort of frazzled mentally, so this will be your standard update on my life rather than anything truly interesting or erudite.This week has been a whirlwind. I honestly can't believe I haven't posted since last Sunday. I don't know how working people get everything done. Right now, my husband is at home, which makes things infinitely easier. But I don't know how we're going to manage

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-82615370940015265882009-08-16T18:09:00.004-05:002009-08-16T19:06:40.149-05:00

Remember how thrilling back to school used to be? Well, admittedly, its still thrilling as an adult, but for entirely different reasons. But back then, what I really looked forward to was picking out all new school supplies. It was consolation for the fact that our glorious freedom had come to an end and that the next nine months would find us ensconsed inside a classroom being force fed a steady

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-34959479355951725312009-08-13T14:56:00.006-05:002009-08-13T19:39:48.613-05:00

I got the job. In a hugely ironic twist of fate, I will be working for the Marketing Department of an IT Services Company as the, ummmm, hmmmmm. I don't seem to have a title. Basically, this company wants to expand their reach into the blogosphere (more specifically, they want to target Moms and Mom bloggers) and the various social media venues. That's where I come in. I will create a blog for

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com42tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-72068797798894272982009-08-12T11:25:00.003-05:002009-08-12T11:36:09.469-05:00

I have a job interview today. It's all happened rather quickly and I haven't had much time to think about the pros and cons, the what ifs, or the logistics of the whole thing. That's a good thing. Because, you see, I haven't been on a job interview in fourteen years. Yes. Four. And then...teen. I lost my job when I was three months pregnant with Pubescent One. It seemed like a disaster at the

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-50993401661585210772009-08-05T18:01:00.005-05:002009-08-06T18:14:25.300-05:00

Diminutive One starts Middle School in four days. That seems impossible. Where other children his age are marching resolutely towards adulthood, he is still very much a little boy. He still enjoys playing legos and cops and robbers in the back yard, and he doesn't care who knows it. That part of him I love. He is his own person, public opinion be damned. I'm pinning a lot of hopes on Middle

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-55361189503784234722009-08-02T14:07:00.004-05:002009-08-02T15:20:25.127-05:00

Last night was my husband's 25th high school reunion. His graduating class was small and 25 years tend to scatter people a bit, so it wasn't a huge shindig. But it was a pretty good sized crowd. There was a live band singing classic rock and they were pretty damn good. The lead singer and guitarist is/was Husband's best friend growing up and all through high school. His wife kind of took me under

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-53105241900669831002009-07-31T12:03:00.007-05:002009-08-02T20:42:50.095-05:00

Husband and I have made some choices in our lives; choices that we thought would benefit our family and help us secure a comfortable future. We choose to live within our means. We choose to live in a modest home. We choose to be a one income family. We choose to have only one car payment at a time.We choose to put 10% of our earnings into savings without fail, each pay period.To expand upon that

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-10743619801428976002009-07-30T05:00:00.001-05:002009-07-30T05:00:04.281-05:00

One characteristic of children like Diminutive One is that they are very literal minded. Because of that, they often don't get certain kinds of humor, such as sarcasm. While Pubescent One grasped and then proceeded to utilize sarcasm at a fairly young age, Diminutive One is just completely perplexed by it. And though he is a very smart child, certain things go right over his head because he

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-91090928733831004082009-07-28T17:27:00.012-05:002009-07-28T20:10:23.607-05:00

You know, I've been writing this blog for almost 4 years now, and I've really gotten remarkably little crap considering some of the delicate topics I've written about. The crap that I have gotten is relatively mild and mostly, I ignore it. I had an internet experience five years ago that resulted in my hide becoming iron clad. That experience also taught me that often when people lash out and say

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-23081544928165257412009-07-26T16:02:00.004-05:002009-07-26T17:33:22.606-05:00

My BBPV is back. The information that I read said that it could take several treatments to effect long lasting relief, so, I guess I'm going to be hanging my head frequently and doing maintenance therapy as well. No posts forthcoming until I can stop the whirling in my poor brain.Getting old sucks big hairy donkey balls.

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-83160403807750693742009-07-23T14:04:00.009-05:002009-07-23T20:34:05.073-05:00

Alright, I need to get that self-indulgent dreck off the top of my blog. I have nothing of import to write, and yet, I feel compelled. It really is my therapy I guess, and cheaper than talking my fool head off to someone with a few fancy schmancy letters after their name while they work on their weekly menu plan. My incredibly talented writer friend Amy, who is disciplined, determined, fearless

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-66928730377478077832009-07-19T14:15:00.007-05:002009-07-19T16:39:39.589-05:00

You all have been very kind. I truly appreciate all the encouragement, praise, and support. But it's not you. It's me. I stopped writing for comments a long time ago, because I realized that it was changing me and changing my writing. Also, I realized that I would never be one of those bloggers who garner a ridiculous number of comments on every post, no matter how mundane. No, it's more a

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com24tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-36354875792961417662009-07-17T11:41:00.002-05:002009-07-17T11:47:33.789-05:00

I think this blog is finished. It's been dying a slow death for a long time and I'm not sure how to resuscitate it. Or if I care enough to bother. I know, I've threatened to quit before. It's kind of an annual tradition here at BAS. I know, you're probably throwing up your hands in disgust or chuckling to yourself. "Oh, that B.A., there she goes, threatening to quit blogging again. She'll be

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com27tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-15478788973098049432009-07-16T14:17:00.004-05:002009-07-16T21:12:12.680-05:00

It was a beautiful summer morning in late June. It was not yet 8:00, but the air was already breath warm. It caressed our naked arms as we walked across the parking lot to the small shabby elementary school building so unlike our own, which was sleek and new. Diminutive One was subdued. It was a momentous day. It was CRCT retest day. A pretty black woman signed us in and ushered us to a

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-34344505285695070742009-07-14T09:46:00.003-05:002009-07-14T12:12:36.047-05:00

One thing that I find very hard to stomach, is trash talking. But its what fourteen year old boys do. I know this. Apparently, it's an inherent part of the male experience; a rite of passage if you will. As a male, you have to learn how to trash talk, or you become the victim. You have to trash talk in order to demonstrate that you are not easily cowed. That you can laugh at yourself. That you

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-76313917029167684752009-07-08T05:00:00.002-05:002009-07-08T22:53:14.186-05:00

I'm going to L.A. next week to pitch an idea for a new reality show. What? You think I, suburban dweller, stay at home Mom, PTA Goddess...have nothing of interest to share with the viewing public? Oh contraire, mes amis! I don't want to give too much away, but the basic premise of the show, titled "The Procuress" will be to chronicle my life as I procure any and all manner of stuff for my family.

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-501389079454649902009-07-05T23:24:00.005-05:002009-07-06T15:14:41.887-05:00

The other crisis our country is facing, is that of education. If you don't have children in the public school system, you might not realize just how bad it has gotten. But I have two, and I can assure you, that the educational needs of our children are not being met. Not by a longshot. There are a plethora of problems, but the most prevalent problem right now, is reliance on standardized testing

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-68369537380483762562009-07-02T11:59:00.007-05:002009-07-02T15:27:50.276-05:00

I've been saying it for years...We DESPERATELY, DESPERATELY need a system of universal health care in this country.I said it because I lived it when Husband was consulting and I'm living it now that Husband has lost his job. When Husband was an independant contractor, we were responsible for our own healthcare needs. The cost to insure our family of four was in excess of $900 each month. Just let

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com33tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-51521465047453312022009-06-30T11:30:00.006-05:002009-06-30T21:30:18.393-05:00

Friday night, Pubescent One attended a party at a friend's house. Since he had to be up early for baseball the next day, he wasn't able to sleep over as most of the other male attendees were doing. I went to pick him up around 10:30 or so. I was in knee length cotton yoga pants, a loose fitting top and flip flops. I wore no bra and no makeup. I NEVER leave the house like that, but I wasn't even

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-28446393410350638702009-06-25T17:01:00.006-05:002009-06-26T12:24:56.816-05:00

Kids will break your heart. Sometimes, they pummel it into a pile of barely beating crimson mush; soft and pulpy with the exquisite pain of loving another human being beyond all logic. It's fear and disappointment and regret and guilt and longing and dear God I can't be doing this right! But sometimes....ohhhhh, sometimes, they break it wide open with the pure radiance of their loving you back,

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com29tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-2428649692672608632009-06-24T09:10:00.004-05:002009-06-24T11:31:31.404-05:00

One of my guilty pleasures is reading celebrity gossip. I know, I've slipped a notch in your esteem with that confession. But everybody needs something mindless in which to indulge now and then, and I always thought of it as a harmless, albeit superbly shallow diversion. Until now. I've been considering boycotting one particular source of celebrity gossip; rather, THE source of celebrity gossip

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-43132258421801660142009-06-18T08:18:00.003-05:002009-06-18T09:00:06.472-05:00

Diminutive One and I fight many and varied battles every day. But one of the biggest battles I face with him, particularly in the summer, is food. Diminutive One likes to eat. Often. And he isn't asking for broccoli or brussel sprouts, I assure you. No sir. I have a bona fide junk food junkie on my hands. I have to watch every bite that goes into his mouth. I have to watch even when I'm not

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-16516127342390445652009-06-15T23:37:00.002-05:002009-06-16T00:10:26.999-05:00

Isn't it sad that children are in such a hurry to grow up? Don't you wish you could tell them that those days are halcyon and hallowed; perfectly imperfect and deliciously bittersweet? Don't you wish you could impress upon them how those years should be savored like hard candy that melts slowly on your tongue, instead of gobbled up until they are irrevocably gone? I wouldn't repeat my adolescence

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-77633578518243892062009-06-10T14:14:00.010-05:002009-06-10T23:57:16.613-05:00

My son and I stood glaring at one another, arms crossed, frowning; angry. "You can't make me do something against my will." he stated with grave certainty. This is fourteen. It's a battle for autonomy, and I understand that. But unfortunately, the need for independance and the maturity with which to deal with it, have not developed at the same rate. "I can take care of myself." he says. "I can

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-42110176990149358682009-06-08T11:42:00.004-05:002009-06-10T21:18:29.890-05:00

Another reason I have been neglecting my blog, is that I have been trying to focus on some "real" writing. I recently joined a small private writer's group, which has been enormously constructive for me. But I got a little jolt of reality when the group leader, who owns his own publishing business and is an extremely competent editor, commented on the fact that I seemed "afraid" to string too

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-67880305252291850972009-06-02T23:04:00.002-05:002009-06-03T08:44:24.245-05:00

Oh my readers, how I have neglected you. It's true that my children are out of school, and of course, that makes finding quiet time to write and reflect somewhat challenging. I wish that was the reason for my absence. But sadly, we have had two deaths in the family in as many weeks. Both were expected, both were really welcomed, as beloved people have been fighting a long time and suffering in

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-11048857587757782332009-05-24T16:21:00.006-05:002009-05-28T11:17:05.134-05:00

Alternatively titled, "How to score points with teenaged boys, undermine your own parenting and guarantee yourself a trip to hell...all in one fell swoop." While waiting for a ballgame to start, eleven 14 year old boys gathered in a sweaty, odiferous group trading witticisms, barbs and fish stories. On the surface it seems innocuous enough, but if you watch closely, you'll discover that what's

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-63582920544939859392009-05-20T07:53:00.002-05:002009-05-20T08:12:13.190-05:00

Constancy. It's a thing I relish. I am not a person who embraces change and habit is my own personal talisman against chaos. There are very few constants in life, however. So I tend to cling to those that present themselves with special fondness and ferocity.Every morning, as I return from dropping off the elementary kids at school, I am greeted by the sight of a gangly young man child sitting on

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-91316285769801785162009-05-17T23:11:00.003-05:002009-05-18T05:37:09.430-05:00

One reason I write, is to chronicle the mundane little details of life that get losts to the mists of time. Even the big things we believe we will remember forever, grow fuzzy and indistinct. Because a lot happens in the course of a lifetime, and Moms espcially, are consumed by the details of here and now. There and then are pushed aside to make room. I hate to think of all the sweet little

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-4669086095900848072009-05-12T14:29:00.005-05:002009-05-12T16:16:51.733-05:00

You may have gotten the impression from my posts that the bullying has stopped. It hasn't. The bully has simply taken a new tack. He is sneakier, subtler, and more cautious. There have been three incidents since Diminutive One has been back at school. He may be obtuse, but he's not stupid, so the things he is saying are seemingly innocent. And really from any other kid, they would be. But not

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-48699422380872214692009-05-11T03:00:00.001-05:002009-05-11T06:30:37.155-05:00

His, not mine, although mine wasn't bad either. Diminutive One, as you know, has had a pretty rough time of it lately. I've tried to make it better, but there's only so much I can do to make this situation suck less for him. This weekend, life stepped in and gave a mutha a helpin' hand. Friday night, he was invited to a friend's house after school to play. I know, your kids have playdates all the

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-58970571689063185602009-05-08T06:31:00.005-05:002009-05-08T07:12:32.939-05:00

One on one time with my fourteen year old is becoming increasingly rare. He's a busy kid. School, sports, a thriving social life...That separation is happening. I knew it would. His life is becoming his own, and I don't figure as prominently in it as I once did. That's the way it's supposed to be and I get that. So I try to give him space and his independance. I try not to be hurt when he'd

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-38095873784057882462009-05-06T19:26:00.005-05:002009-05-07T07:50:51.583-05:00

First, thanks to everyone who emailed or called to tell me about the Oprah program today. I watched. And I won't lie...that was tough. From the moment it began, I was fighting back tears. It was just too close. Way. Too close. I wasn't sure I would make it through the whole program. But I did. And mostly, it was a good show; very informative and empowering. A few things I disagreed with. One

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-68179228273547555422009-05-04T14:32:00.004-05:002009-05-05T06:22:22.667-05:00

Wow. I evoked some strong feelings with the last line of my last post. I'm a little surprised, but I shouldn't be. One can never anticipate all the ways in which ones words will be construed. And there have been other posts of mine that went all wonky because something I said was misinterpreted. It's hard, in this medium, because there is no tone or facial experssion to help the reader infer

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-25994815051317617402009-05-04T06:42:00.004-05:002009-05-04T07:28:04.053-05:00

When I was 11, I read the entire Bible cover to cover. In my Sunday School, those who did so received a handsome Naugahyde bound Bible with their name inscribed in gold letters. I wanted that Bible. Badly. I really have no idea why, and I doubt I did then either. Children are not terribly inclined to examine the deeper meaning behind their desires. But I suspect that it was my way of compensating

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-90706062962861884162009-05-01T15:11:00.005-05:002009-05-01T16:46:00.370-05:00

You know...sometimes, when things are dark and bleak, it's easy to surrender to the idea that things will always be dark and bleak. But if you're lucky, a ray of sunshine will break through the darkness to lighten your soul. Pffft. What drivel, right? Not really. You know I struggle with the idea of a divine being. But yesterday, someone or something put an amazing woman in our path. She was our

Blog Antagonisthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09378330862349859998noreply@blogger.com35tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20982663.post-61765712526301672682009-04-30T16:02:00.006-05:002009-04-30T21:37:37.046-05:00

I haven't slept for two weeks. I have trouble shutting off under the best of circustances, which is why I have to read almost every night before turning out my light. My brain needs a mechanism by which to make the transition from problem solving, list making, prioritizing, care taking....into a state of of peaceful limbo. So as I said, even when there's nothing particularly bothersome or

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