Sent this in my family’s group text, today. My sister, Jackie, my dad, his girlfriend, my brother, his wife, and I have a group we text in like all day long. My Alexa show said this, earlier. No kidding? You don’t say?! I swear…🤦♀️
Between the time Adam and I left the house to go to my sister’s, last night, and the time we got back home, I had 62 messages in our group text! We definitely chat a lot. Like all day, everyday. I love it, though.
Just thought this one was funny. Have to laugh at the world today, otherwise it’ll make you depressed as hell!
My sister and her husband brought baby Pj home, yesterday! I made some soup for them. Adam and I brought it over and we got to meet our new niece. She’s so precious!
My sister’s a very nervous new mama. I’ve been getting a lot of texts and FaceTime calls from her asking questions. I love it, though. She’s only about a 5 minute drive from my house, so it’s pretty great being this close. I’m feeling sleepy today, and I’m not the one had to go in and have the baby!
Adam’s back to work. Kids are back to school. It’s a chilly, cloudy day here. I’ve been struggling to get motivated to get much done. I’ve got the oven preheating, so I can bake some cookies. The kids will be getting home from school in about an hour. We haven’t brought them to see baby Pj, yet. I didn’t want to overwhelm my sister on her first evening home. I think I’ll bring them by there on Wednesday, as long as everybody’s feeling well. Otherwise, I don’t have much to talk about today.
I have so many special people in my life. I have so much to be grateful for. It frustrates me how shattered I can suddenly feel, out of nowhere, in the most random of moments. I was putting away my “Fall” themed kitchen towels, and getting out my Winter/Christmas ones. I came across this one towel, mixed in with all the others. It’s just a white tea towel. It has the words Mrs Claus written on it in silver, cursive letters. I remember it like it was yesterday. I was at my mom’s house. She had just bought these towels. She gave me one. Just a couple of months before that, I had found a cute kitchen towel that I knew she would like. It had cats on it, I remember. She’d gotten wasted and been very hateful and said some cruel things to me, but I wasn’t ready to say goodbye to her, yet. I was afraid to knock on her door, so I put it inside her mailbox, along with a little note. She’d been so fucked up on all the shit she was putting into her body, she didn’t even remember the way she’d hurt me. She couldn’t understand why I hadn’t just come to her door. I made up an excuse, rather than confront her with the things she’d said and done. I told her we’d been sick, and I didn’t want to get her sick. I think that her giving me that stupid Mrs Claus towel, was her way of reciprocating the gesture I’d made, with the one I’d left in her mailbox.
I was in a good mood! I’d been excitedly putting the finishing touches on my Christmas decorations around the house. Preparing to decorate the tree, with my family. Then, I come across this mundane, unassuming towel, and I’m flooded with emotion. It hurts. It’s so hard. How can I find myself still missing my mother? I miss those times, when she made me feel loved. That stinking towel is just another random thing that brings me back to a feeling I miss more than words can describe here. I grieve the loss of someone I truly, never even had. I long for something my mother never could really give me. Unconditional love. The kind that I feel every time I think of my own children. The kind that I instantly felt for my new baby niece. It’s very hard not to listen to this little voice, inside of me, that whispers, “It’s your fault. You weren’t enough.” All the love I get from my husband, my children, my family, and my friends, it still cannot seem to fill the hole my mother’s absence has left inside of me. Knowing your mother doesn’t want you, unless it suits her. She attempts to worm her way back into my sister’s life, at this vulnerable time in her life. She’s just had her first baby. Of course she would wish her mother was here! Meanwhile, all our mother does is use her to hurt our dad, or me. She uses all of us. We’re disposable. Unless we allow her to use us like pawns in her “game”, we’re useless to her. So, I find myself sad, furious, lonely, and desperate to make it stop. I can only push it down for so long, and then, I do something like find a kitchen towel, and those emotions are all rushing back to the surface. Still, I can’t make myself get rid of things like the kitchen towel, because I know there won’t ever be another. I will never get, even the tiniest bit of assurance that my mother loves me, ever again. I don’t know how to proceed. Somehow, she still haunts me, especially when I’m truly happy. As if, I’m not allowed to feel that good. I don’t deserve it. That’s what that little voice whispers to me, anyway. It reminds me, too often, that the love of my most cherished people is not a guarantee. They too, might leave, if I don’t serve a purpose for them. I’m left desperately wanting to be needed, and never quite feeling I’m enough.
I know what a juxtaposition this must be from my last several blog posts! That’s the point. It’s such a shock to myself, too! Suddenly, I’m so incredibly sad, and it’s the last thing I expected.
I’m such a proud Auntie! My baby niece is beautiful. My sister did an amazing job, too. She showed strength like I’ve never seen from her before. Adam is a very proud uncle, as well. Every new picture my sister sends me, he wants to see it right away, too.
Another thing that I’m feeling real proud about, is myself. I haven’t done a thing to upset Adam in a good little while. While we were in the shower, last night, he asked me, “Have I told you enough how proud I am of you?” I shook my head and said, “Tell me again”. He took my face in his hands and told me how much he appreciates the efforts I’m making for him, and what a great job I’m doing. Then, he kissed me. Things as simple as that make me so happy!
My daughter’s best friend is staying the night here. We’re putting our tree up, later tonight. Adam and our son are working on the lights and decorations outside. The weather hasn’t been too bad. It’s been a perfect Thanksgiving weekend!
My baby niece, “PJ”, was born at 4:52pm today!! I’m so proud of my sister! It’s incredible watching her become a mama now, too. My heart is so full! It’s been a very long couple of days for her, but she did amazing and everyone is doing great.
We had a great Thanksgiving! My dad and his girlfriend came over. She brought her kids, who are such good kids. We also had a man who is a real refugee from Afghanistan. He was an incredibly sweet person. He’d never been to an American Thanksgiving dinner. I was so happy to be able to represent the spirit of Thanksgiving, and show him some kindness and fun. He had never thrown a football, until today! He didn’t know how a buffet dinner worked. It’s a powerful reminder to be grateful, thankful, this Thanksgiving, for the blessings I get to enjoy.
I’m exhausted now! It was a beautiful day, though.
Not my typical post, but I wanted to share something I’ve learned. I have a Ninja cooking system. There’s a steam button on it. I always used to struggle like hell to get the eggshells to peel off of hard boiled eggs nicely. I tried all the tricks I’d found, on how to boil them without having that problem. Nothing worked. Through trial and error, I’ve learned how to do them perfectly, every single time! The Ninja comes with a rack that fits inside it. You can just fill the bottom with a little water. It doesn’t even go up to the rack. Just enough for it to steam. Place the eggs on top of the rack, press the steam function, and set the timer for 30 minutes. Perfect hard boiled eggs! Just thought I’d throw that out into the universe, in case anyone else could use that information 😉
There is a turkey…in my bathtub…as I write this. Adam has a turkey fryer that he is going to use to deep fry our Thanksgiving turkey, tomorrow. The turkey has to be completely thawed, or else things can go bad, real quick. The oil would splatter, possibly even explode. We don’t want that! So, there’s a turkey thawing in my bathtub.
When Adam and I were in the shower, last night, the topic of “earliest memories” came up. I started to tell him about, what I believe, is my earliest memory. It was my third birthday. My brother and I were playing, and I ran into the dining room. My mother was wrapping a present. It was one of those little magnetic chalkboard toys, with all the magnetic letters and shapes. It had a drawer in it, where the chalk and letters could be stored. It isn’t the gift that makes it such a significant memory, though. My mom was nice to me. I remember she talked to me in a sweet, gentle voice. She smiled. She wasn’t angry. That came as such a surprise to me, even at that age, it became a memory I held onto forever. Then, I casually started to talk to Adam about some other random childhood things. My dad wasn’t home as much, when I was little. I have no memories of ever having my mom take me to bed, tuck me in, kiss or hug me goodnight. I assume, she must’ve, when I was tiny? I just know that I didn’t grow up being told goodnight. I took myself to bed. My dad was always loving, affectionate, kind. I hadn’t ever stopped to wonder why that seemed to stop. As I talked about these things, with Adam, I realized, it was because it made my mother angry, when my dad showed me affection. I learned to avoid snuggling him. I would tense up and freeze, when he’d hug me or play with my hair. I’ve carried a lot of guilt about those things. I didn’t know why I’d shut him out the way I had, until it dawned on me, because I didn’t want to make my mother angry. I would see my sister sitting in his lap, riding with him to run errands, getting all the affection I refused from him. I’d feel sad and a little jealous, sometimes. I blamed myself, though. It wasn’t until I got older and moved out, my dad and I formed a relationship that was independent of my mother, and her watchful eyes.
I was processing all of this information, all of these thoughts and memories, while I talked to Adam. I wasn’t upset. I wasn’t crying. Truthfully, I was just “matter of fact”, about it all. I’ve never shared those things with Adam. Hell, I hadn’t even known some of it, until I took the time to consider it, last night. Adam got so quiet. He looked very sad, almost angry even. I stopped talking, then. We silently finished our shower. I turned the water off, and before I could step out, Adam pulled me into his arms. He told me “I will never be mean to you. I will always tell you goodnight.” He had the saddest look in his eyes. I’m not sure whether it’s a good idea to just toss out information like that again? I felt sorry that I’d upset Adam. I don’t know if I’m numb, over it, or maybe I pushed it back down into that deep place inside me where I usually store things like I told Adam? I don’t feel sad today, though. I’m good! I’m doing my best to make sure that Adam can see that.
Adam tasked our son to organize the tool shed, clean his bedroom, and do some yard work. He got up early and has finished all of his jobs. I’m running around cleaning, like a maniac. Scrubbing walls, cabinets, doors, and floorboards. We’ve got about 14 people coming here, for Thanksgiving. I’ve got everything I need to make that dinner. Tomorrow, I’ll bake the pies and deviled eggs, so they’re all done. In our family, we make mimosas and drink one while we fix Thanksgiving dinner. Then, after dinner, we sit around and play cards or board games. As long as we can all stay healthy, it should be a fun day! Our daughter is better today, but not well enough to go to school. I swear, since covid and an entire year of “virtual learning”, my kids are sick constantly. It’s like their immune systems forgot how to work.
My sister is scheduled to go in to have her labor induced, tomorrow evening! I’m so excited to meet my new baby niece!! I’m going to make some casseroles that they can just heat and eat, after they bring baby home. It’s definitely a busy week here.
Things at Adam’s work are settling down. He’s been much less stressed about all that. I have been nothing but supportive, kind, respectful, and loving. I told Adam, last night, “I want you”. He said, “I’m right here, baby”, and then pulled me into his arms. I climbed on top of him, straddling him, and said, “Let me be more clear. I want you inside of me, now”. I think that turned him on, because I’m just a little sore today. It was fun, though! I never get bored of seeing my husband’s naked body, and feeling him love me with it. His hands, his lips, his nether region. All of him. I’m always attracted to him, but he’s really starting to look good, since he’s been working out and eating better.
I’m fixing to go vacuum, sweep, and mop our floors. Adam also just reminded me about something I need to ask my dad about, so I’d better get busy. Hope y’all have a blessed day!
Our son got suspended from school, today. He got into a shoving match with another boy. The other boy told him “your mama should’ve raised you better”, and our son told him “don’t talk about my mama like that”. I guess some pushing and shoving followed. I love my little man for always wanting to stand up for me! I missed the phone call from the principal, so they called Adam. Adam heard about this before I did. I wasn’t supposed to talk to our son about it until Adam got home. Adam wanted to be a part of the whole conversation. I did my best to soften Adam up, though. Our son just became a teenage boy. He’s got hormones coursing through him. Isn’t this just what boys do?! When Adam got home, he walked in the door with a purpose. Our son was very concerned about what his daddy was going to think about all this.
We talked to him. Adam was much more “stern”, and he gave our son a list of jobs he needs to do, while he’s out of school tomorrow. I told our son, he has to learn to determine is it worth it? Is fighting that other boy worth losing his spot on the wrestling team? I told him to imagine he’s at a gas station, and some guy starts mouthing off. If you approach him, you never know what this guy might do. Maybe he’s got a weapon? Maybe, your mama will get a phone call that you aren’t ever coming home again. All because some guy mouthed off to him. I said, now imagine that you’re at the same gas station, with a cute girl you love, and this guy starts to hurt her. Is it worth it to step in, now? This is the thing he has to consider. I’ve done told everyone I know, if someone ever harms my babies, I’m fine with prison. I’m not going to go out and look for trouble, and then spend my life sitting in a cell away from my family. I will do it, though, if I have to. Life is all about figuring out the risks and rewards. My poor sweet boy was breaking my heart. I think I made a difference, talking to him like I did. I think Adam did his part, too. He put the fear of Adam into our son if this happens again without a good reason. We’ve always told our kids they can defend themselves, and we won’t be mad. My boy is really starting to grow up. Still, nothing feels better than having him feel like he can come and cry on his mama’s shoulder, when he’s having a tough time.
I told Adam, he gets to be the “soft place” for our daughter. It’s as important to me that I can be that for our son. I don’t want to “baby” him. I just want him to know he can always come to me and, no matter what, he can cry on my shoulder and I will do everything I can to help him through it.
The truth is, as a parent, we’re all winging it. I’m just doing the very best that I know how to. It’s the same with marriage. I do everything I know how to, while doing my best to learn about how to do even better. I love my children from the deepest, purest part of my soul. I know Adam does, too. We just show that love to them in different ways. I’m thankful that they are growing up with both of us. Together, we make a pretty great team. I know our son did something silly today, but he’s a great kid.
Our daughter woke up with a fever and a horrible cough. Influenza is going around horribly here. I spent my morning taking care of her, and my afternoon taking care of our son. I’m about to spend the rest of the evening doing my best to love and support my husband, now. I realized, I appreciate him for allowing me to be the soft place for our son. He has to be the “hard ass”. I get to be the one my little boy goes to when he just needs a hug. That means more to me than I can describe.
I had a great time, last night! Going to be spending today recovering, though. Jackie and I drank a beer, on the way. Adam is always our designated driver 😉 I drank 2 beers, at the show. For some reason, that was enough to leave me feeling a little hung over, today. I was very good to Adam. I didn’t do or say a single thing to push any boundaries. We had a big group of friends who showed up, too! I needed a fun night out. We made it home before midnight, but I still feel like I could go for a nap.
I don’t have much else to report. Think I’m going to stay in my cozy pajamas all day, and go join my husband on the couch.
I forgot to mention, I won our bet! Adam lost ONE pound. I GAINED 3! Adam went from 202 lbs to 201. I went from 92 lbs to 95. In fairness, Adam’s been using our garage to work out. We’ve got a bunch of equipment and weights. He’s probably put muscle weight on. He looks pretty good, if I say so myself. Still, I won. I’m very competitive. As if that wasn’t obvious, by now? We made this bet September 8th. We had until November 8th. I was hoping to gain 10 lbs, Adam wanted to lose 10 lbs. Neither of us got that far, but I did gain more than he lost 😉
I’ve got a roast slow cooking in my crockpot, along with chopped potatoes and baby carrots. Adam had to go into work. Our son had a wrestling competition, way too early this morning. Had to have him there by 6:00am. Now, we’re just hanging out at home. After Adam gets home, we’ll get ready for our night out. I’m supposed to get up there and sing for a few songs. My dad’s playing some songs. Our friend is playing. I’m looking forward to it! We don’t get out for “kid free” nights, all that often. I’m excited to get to wear something cute and go out. I’m thinking of wearing my mustard colored sweater. The one I was wearing when Adam came home and gave me a serious spanking, a couple months ago. Just an extra reminder to treat Adam with respect, since I tend to forget that when we’re around this group of friends.
I got a text, this morning, from an old friend of mine, from back in high school. It was fun to catch up and reminisce about the old days! We were such ornery kids!! Sneaking out, going to parties, skipping school, smoking and drinking…We were the kids everybody wanted to hang out with, because we were always finding mischief and fun. Somehow, we’ve turned out alright, though! Adam got a DUI, in college. I never got into any trouble like that. He was even more wild than I dreamed of being, when he was young. Lord help us if our children ever pull the kind of crap we did. We’ve managed to raise really respectful, good kids, so far. It’s hard to imagine them acting out like we used to.
I’m fixing to go run myself a bubble bath and enjoy some quiet time. The sun’s shining today. It should be a great Saturday!
Wednesday, while I was waiting for Adam to get home, and stressing what was going to happen, I’d been texting Jackie. This was from the same conversation, that afternoon.
We didn’t talk about it, after my trip to “Adam’s office”, that night. She text me Thursday morning, to ask if everything was alright.
Thank God for my best friend! It’s pretty great having someone (other than Adam, of course) that I can talk to, who knows everything, don’t judge, and just supports me. We talked, last night. I explained that, had I simply said yes sir, on Tuesday, when Adam told me he wanted me to tell him about something, even if I don’t think I need to, Wednesday night could’ve been very different. I told Jackie, he’s not a “dick”. I don’t ever want her to think he’s mean to me. I even explained to her about how he’ll stop anything he’s doing, no matter how angry he might be, if I tell him, Adam, I’m scared. He’s never trying to hurt me. He’s helping me, and us, as a couple. If he knows that something would harm, rather than help, he will never do it. The “goal” is to make things better, not bad. I have plenty of “quirks”. Things that seem innocuous, to most folks, can be traumatizing, for me. If Adam is holding me down, my thoughts can sometimes go to a bad place. I feel like I can’t breathe. Almost as if I’m dying. It’s complete panic. He knows this. He’s always paying attention. Making sure that I’m ok, even if he’s angry. Jackie knows that Adam loves me. I just wanted to reiterate that, he is never harming me. I’m okay. ❤️
My son had a great time, at his construction contest! He got third place. He told me all about it, the whole way home. He was sooo excited! He’s got a wrestling meet, on Saturday. Then, Jackie, Adam, and I are going to the bar that our friend plays at. I’m going to get up and sing “back up” for a few songs, too. Busy Saturday, but should be lots of fun!
Adam and I had a really good talk, last night. It’s so crazy how different our brains work. The way I think, I don’t want to know about every little thing Adam had to deal with, everyday. It would drive me nuts if he came home and unloaded on me with every single piece of crap he had to handle. Of course, I want to know the important things! Of course, I want to be here for him, when things are stressful. But, I do not need, or want, my husband coming home everyday, and telling me about all the bullshit he had to worry about. For me, it’s exhausting. I love that he comes in the door, every single night, and he’s the same Adam. He leaves his troubles at work. So, to me, it feels like the right thing to do, to not ask him to carry the weight of all the troubles that I have to deal with, at home. The important things, sure! Things I’ve got handled, that seems like the kind of stuff I shouldn’t put on him. I feel protected, loved, when he leaves the little worries at work. I feel like I’m protecting my husband, when I do the same for him. It isn’t the easiest thing for me to rewire my brain so that I can tell him about everything, and not feel like that’s a bad thing to do to him. It was very helpful to talk that through, with Adam. I understand what he’s asking me to do. He understands why that isn’t always easy for me to do. Why it feels wrong, to me. I will work on it.
Adam told me that he’d been very angry, on Tuesday evening, but he wanted to give me some time. He wanted to know if I would be sorry. He wanted to see if I would be sorry for what I’d done to him, or sorry for myself. Would I recognize how disrespectful I’d been, and would I apologize? I did all of those things, yesterday. It surprised me to know that was how he felt. I guess, I thought he would’ve done something right away, if he’d been upset. He said that he didn’t think I would react well to having him call me out, while I was so angry and frustrated myself. He also told me, now that he knows I recognize how disrespectful I can be, he will not hesitate to address it, immediately. He pointed out a couple of times I’ve spoken disrespectfully to, or about, him, recently. I hadn’t even caught that! It wasn’t blatant, nasty, hateful things I’d said. I had called him a “pushover”, at my Dad’s house, the last time we were over there for a guitar night. I’d made comments that belittled him, and I wasn’t thinking about how wrong that was. Adam said, he lets too many things like that go, without confronting me about them. He isn’t going to do that, anymore.
Jackie brought a 12 pack of beer in, when she got home from work. I’d been texting her about what was going on, with Adam and me. We each sat in the kitchen and drank one. I had made a casserole that was ready to go into the oven, as soon as Adam got home. It only needed 20-30 minutes to bake. I was watching our front door camera, waiting to see Adam’s truck go past. I’d just finished my beer, when it happened. He was pulling in the driveway, as I threw my empty beer can away. I quickly grabbed one more from the fridge. I chugged that thing so fast, it was gone before he walked into the kitchen! I was so nervous.
Adam had gone into our bedroom, before he came into the kitchen, to say hello. I suspected what he was doing…Taking a belt from our closet and setting it out. He looked so sexy, when he strode in to greet Jackie and I. He had his shirt sleeves rolled up, revealing his big, strong as hell forearms. Jackie started to talk to him about all kinds of random crap. I knew she was stalling for me. Adam didn’t seem to be in a bad mood. He was smiling and chatting, like normal. Finally, he turned to me and asked me how long til supper? I explained, I just needed to throw the casserole in the oven. He said “Perfect. Let’s go step into my office.” I really did intend to go with him, willingly. I knew I deserved whatever was coming to me. For some reason, I couldn’t make my feet move, though. He didn’t wait for me to move them. He picked me up and carried me into our bedroom. The dogs had followed, and as he was shooing them out the door, I started to walk towards the door, too. I was only playing. I always try to bring, even the tiniest bit of humor, into tough moments. Adam grinned, grabbed onto my arm, and said, “Nuh-uh, Eve”.
As I’d suspected, he had a belt laid out on our bed. He bent me over our bed. I immediately flipped over, onto my back. I looked up at him. I had tears welling up, in my eyes. I told him, “Adam, I’m scared.” I do not use that phrase, often. I don’t abuse it. I never say it to take advantage of my husband’s love for me. He knows that. He pulled me up, hugging me close. I pressed my face into his chest and started bawling. He smelled so good. This was what I’d wished for, all day. Adam’s “gentle” hands. He put his hand under my chin, and lifted my face so I was looking him in his eyes. His expression was kind. He said, “Baby, you know this has to happen. I need you to understand, this is serious. I love you so much, even when I’m very angry with you. I’m not going anywhere. I’m here. Let’s get this over with.” He laid me back down, on our bed. He left my jeans on, and put his left hand on my back, to keep me still. He spanked me with the belt, I don’t know, at least 6 times. Then, he sat down next to me. He talked about all of the things I wrote about, at the beginning of this post. I said a lot of yes, sir and no, sir’s. I was not expecting what happened next! He pulled me over his lap, pulled my jeans and panties down, and spanked me with his hand, hard. It hurt so much worse than the belt had. After, I’d guess, a dozen of those, he was finished. I was a mess of tears, and my nose was running. My hair had been in a ponytail. It was now loosely hanging on one side of my head, with hair stuck to my face. Adam wiped my hair from my face. He stood there, just staring into my eyes. I was sobbing, and breathing like I’d just sprinted a couple miles. I looked back into his eyes. My breaths slowed. We stayed like that for, what felt like, a long time. Finally, he spoke. “Just know, this is what happens, the next time you disrespect me like that.” I replied, “Yes, sir.”
When we emerged from “the office” (our bedroom, but Adam calls it that, when I’m in trouble), Jackie had turned up the music I’d had playing, in the kitchen. She’d also preheated the oven, and then put my casserole in. It was almost finished. This tells me, we were in there for 45 minutes, or so. It’s hard to have a concept of time, when we’re in there because I’m being spanked. Jackie didn’t ask me any questions. We went on with our evening. I’m sure we’ll talk, later today. She could tell that I wasn’t ready for a conversation about how it went. I’m sure it was obvious in the way I must’ve looked, too.
This morning, I drove our son to a local event center, for a “construction contest” he’s doing. I’ll have to go back to pick him up, this afternoon. He was real excited. It was COLD, outside. My heated seats don’t feel very good on a freshly spanked bottom, though. Adam and I are good. There’s no anger or animosity. It’s a new day. This is my favorite thing about the way our marriage works. I screw up. I get lectured and punished. It’s over.
These texts, between Adam and I, pretty much sum up my day here…
I think I’m fixing to find out just how hard Adam’s hands can get. Despite the way it may seem, when I write about the stupid shit I do and say sometimes, I don’t look forward to it. I don’t enjoy it, when he’s punishing me. I especially, don’t enjoy it, when he’s really disappointed in me. I don’t think I’ve made him this upset in years. I suppose, I probably have, but he hasn’t spanked me for it, in years. I guess I’ll write in here tomorrow, when tonight is finally over with. I swear, the clock is moving so slowly, because I just want it all to be done. At the same time, I’m not excited for Adam to get home from work. I am sooo, truly sorry. I wish I could rewind and redo last night. I wish I could take it all back.
Yesterday afternoon, I sent Adam a long text saying how I felt and why. The more I thought about the situation, the less sorry I felt about it. I did not feel guilty, the way I do when I agree I’ve done something wrong. Adam responded, “I understand that [Eve]. But you think I’m just going to wither away or be so stressed out I can’t function. I am the man of the house and you WILL communicate with me better about our finances. That is being a team. And before you say anything silly like what I do at work I don’t have to ok with you, I would say eat me.” Part of me was impressed! Way to go, Adam! I got chills when I first read those texts, both from fear that, maybe he really did mean it? And, it was very sexy to see him hold his ground. There was another part of me, though. That part said to herself, Oh, that’s cute, the way he’s trying to sound tough, but it ain’t gonna work. I’m holding my ground. I’m not sorry. I don’t feel like I did anything wrong. I don’t even feel like he thinks I did anything wrong! If I hadn’t questioned myself, from the start, he wouldn’t even be saying all of this. He didn’t care until I opened my big fuckin’ mouth.
Look, I know the “right” thing to do would’ve been very simply, to let go of my pride and submit. To acknowledge that, Adam is asking this of me, and whether or not I agree with it, I’m going to work to give him respect by obeying him. I think I was most frustrated, because I didn’t believe he cared nearly as much as he was claiming to. I felt he was probably “pretending” to seriously give a crap about something that was not an issue, at any point. By the time he got home, I was convinced I was right. Not only about how I’d dealt with the pest company’s bullshit, but I was right that he wasn’t going to spank me, because it wasn’t a big deal!
We went in circles for awhile, and finally, I asked him what he wanted me to say, and very sassy me, in a Marilyn Monroe style voice, said, “Yes sir. Whatever you wish, dear.” I think that’s probably the most disrespectful shit I’ve said to him in months. Looking back, I can’t believe I was brave/stupid/disrespectful enough to actually do that! This morning, writing this, I do feel pretty awful for speaking to my husband like that. I was a lot of things wrong, yesterday. Things I don’t want to be. Disrespectful, number one! Disobedient, number two. I failed to allow Adam to lead.
By refusing to just do as he said, I went against everything I’m trying to accomplish. My head is a mess. My heart is a mess. My emotions are a mess. I honestly think either, in my refusal to comply, I convinced him that maybe I was right. Or, he was afraid to be too hard on me, and he didn’t want to be a jerk. I don’t want him to be mean!!! I’ve been so very proud of how calm and careful he’s been, even when he’s really angry with me. The way he can still show me love, even when he brings out his “hard hands”. That makes me respect the hell out of him! I just didn’t believe he was serious about what he was saying to me. I didn’t believe I needed to tell him about a non existent bill we didn’t have to worry about. I could handle it.
I’m feeling guilty. Not about the pest company crap. About how I diminished my husband’s power and authority. Of all the shitty things I’ve done, over the last several months, this tops my list. I know how deeply I want my husband to feel confident enough to lead well. I know how important it’s been to him, and to me, that I show him respect, even and especially, when it’s hard for me to do that.
We still haven’t really “finished” that conversation. Adam didn’t punish me or even get a chance to do much. We had a family emergency that came up. That took immediate priority. We went to bed late. I slept in his arms, like always. He tucked the blankets around me, when he got up. He gave me a kiss on my forehead, before he left for work. I have sent him a, very long, text message, acknowledging all of the ways I was wrong, last night. I’m not quite sure what’s going to happen. This isn’t what I want for us. I wish I could take back the way I acted. I can’t explain why I can be so stubborn!? I did start my period, this morning. Not that I can just blame my hormones rather than myself. I had been doing such a great job. Yes, I sometimes do silly shit that I shouldn’t. I haven’t been so incredibly disrespectful in a very long time, though. I feel horrible.
…like coffee needs a cup, you know that it ain’t much good without it. We were meant to be together. No doubt about it. This old Neal McCoy song, is Adam and my “song”. We had our first dance together, as a married couple, to this song.
My daughter went with me on a few errands, the other day. She told me about a dream she had, the night before. She said she dreamed that her daddy cheated on mama and her and her brother were “beating him up”. She told me, “I know daddy would never do that to you. I don’t know why I dreamed that?” I assured her that her daddy and I aren’t going anywhere. She said, “y’all are meant for each other”.
So many of the people close to my babies have divorced parents. I can only think of one friend Mj has, who’s parents are still together. Adam’s dad passed away before the kids had a chance to know him. My parents are divorced. Jackie doesn’t have her parents. Jackie is divorced, but she isn’t a parent. My sister’s husband’s parents are divorced. Most all of my kids’ friends split their time between their mom and dad’s houses. That poor baby is so afraid that’ll happen to her one day. Adam and I are both committed to making sure that neverhappens, though. I will fight like hell to never have my babies have to come from a “broken” family. I told my daughter yesterday, that tree we buried her rats under, it’s a young tree. It’s going to grow up and the circle of life will make it so that her pets become part of that tree. One day, she’ll come home, with her babies, and they’ll stand under the shade of that tree. I pray my kids are able to come home to their momanddad, for a long, long time.
Having said all that, I’m frustrated with Adam, today. We have a couple of different pest control companies we’ve hired. One of them is just for termite protection. The other one, is for keeping things like spiders, fleas, mosquitos, etc. out of the house. The termite company has been amazing. The other one, beyond annoying. I regret that I signed a year long contract with them. They were supposed to be coming out 5 times per year. IF we still had any issues, between scheduled visits, they’d come out free of charge. I hired them in August. They have been here 3 times, already. Each time, we’ve been charged. I never even requested they come out for any of those. I got a text, a couple weeks ago, saying they were scheduled to come by again. We haven’t had issues with bugs or anything. I told them, NO. I’m not going to have them come out, for the fourth time in 3 months, and then turn around and charge me another $129! I got another text, today. He asked me when is a good time to reschedule? I explained all of this to him. They’re coming in December now. I got it worked out. I told Adam about all of this, this morning. Then, he asked me why I hadn’t said anything to him before today. I told him, I had it under control. I handled it! I felt proud of myself for standing my ground with those guys! Adam feels like I should’ve told him, when this all started to become an issue, weeks ago. I didn’t think it was necessary to dump stupid crap like this on him, especially with the stress he’s got due to end of the year stuff at work. I knew I could figure it out, and I did. I assured him, if it had become a problem that I couldn’t solve myself, I’d have come to him. I would have! He insists that he’s repeatedly asked me to keep him updated and involved in all financial matters. I get that, but this wasn’t a bill! I don’t know. Unless I can talk my way out of it, before he gets home, he’s going to spank me tonight. I think that’s excessive, though. I handled the bullshit myself. I’m capable of dealing with things, too. I love Adam so much, but he can sure drive me crazy, sometimes. I’m struggling not to send a string of angry text messages to him, right now.
Also, it’s absolutely freezing cold here, today! It’s dreary and wet and cold. I need some sunshine. Lord, please help me not to lose my shit.
My family is very “artistic”. My grandma paints. My dad’s sister illustrated children’s books and made a cartoon featured in some newspapers. My dad writes music, plays guitar, and he does carvings that are very exclusive. I loved to draw. Specifically, charcoal drawings of faces. I used to do water color paintings, too. I haven’t painted or drawn in a long time. I lost all of my artwork that had been in competitions to a flood we had, years ago. I now enjoy doing makeup, hair, and nails. I do all my friends finger and toenails. I love to paint creative designs on them. I also cut hair. I’ve never been to beauty school, I just enjoy it, and I’m decent at it. I cut Adam and our kids’ hair. I’ve cut my sister’s hair. I cut Adam’s dad’s hair, when he was fighting cancer. I was so nervous, because I knew he was very particular about his hair, but he was happy with it.
I cut Adam’s hair, yesterday. I started to tell him “you look much…”, he said “younger?” To tell the truth, I was going to say more presentable, but yeah sure, let’s go with younger! I told Jackie about this, and she made a point to, casually, mention that he looked younger, with his hair cut. I think we made his Sunday!
I had worn Christmas colors, in my outfits, all weekend. I had watched a couple of Christmas themed movies. I’d started to plan our “25 Days of Christmas” activities. I was listening to my Christmas playlist, in the kitchen, Sunday afternoon. My son came in, and he made a comment, poking fun of me for my choice of music. This was one of many remarks made over the last several days by Adam and our kids. I guess I had just had enough, because it made me grumpy. I changed to a different playlist, not full of Christmas songs. I thought to myself, my family has successfully sucked the joy and excitement out of me. A few minutes later, Adam came in for something. He started to tease me, but it was obvious I wasn’t playing along. He asked me if I was grouchy? I told him yes. He asked me if a kiss would make it better? I said no, not right now. I did not lose my cool. I didn’t raise my voice or cuss anybody out. I stayed in the kitchen and did my best to feel better. It wasn’t until evening, when Adam and I went to take our shower, I opened up about what was bothering me. I often need some time to gather my thoughts. It never works well when I attempt to share them while I’m worked up and angry. I was calm, rational, and no longer so upset. I told Adam, “y’all really hurt my feelings this weekend”. I explained how it felt like my happiness and excitement was being poked fun of. I told him, he has no idea that, moments before he walked into the kitchen to give me grief about what Christmas thing I was planning out now, I’d been sitting on the floor, in an absolute panic. I’d written about this dish scrub brush my mother gave me. It was the last “gift” she ever gave me. It wasn’t wrapped up for Christmas or anything. It was just something she gave me because she knew I used things like that. It was thoughtful. It means a whole lot to me. I couldn’t find it. Something inside me needed to see that it was still there, under my sink. Only, when I looked, I couldn’t find it. I was melting down, for a minute there, before he walked in. My kids are teasing me about my love of Christmas because they see and hear their daddy do it. I needed him to really understand why I try so hard to make it a special time. I needed him to see that, just because I’m smiling and dancing in the kitchen, does not mean there isn’t deep pain that I’m doing my very best to replace with happiness and joy, for my family. I never want to dampen their experiences because of my past. It’s important to me that I give them fond memories of their mama. I’m not ashamed or embarrassed that I love Christmas! I was hurt that my family didn’t seem to appreciate how much effort and energy I put into trying to make it special for them, every year. It’s not about me. I want to make them smile. They seemed to treat it all like a joke. That hurts.
I didn’t raise my voice or get sassy and snarky, while I explained all this to Adam. I fought to keep my composure, and not bawl my eyes out, because I truly didn’t want to make Adam feel terrible. I simply needed him to see my side of this, when I’m being relentlessly picked on because I’m excited and happy about making the season special for my family, as if that’s something I should refrain from. As if, I’m silly for trying so hard, for putting so much effort into this, for laughing, even though I could cry, if I focused on things like that dish scrub brush for too long. Adam felt horrible. I mean, so awful, I felt sorry for him. My goal was not to tear him down. He, clearly, understood what I’d wanted him to, though. I leaned into his chest and he put his arms around me. I told him, “I don’t want to make you feel bad. Just please appreciate these things, at least more than you make fun of me for them.” He told me he and our son would be glad to hang the outdoor lights next weekend. He assured me that nobody would be taking my hard work for granted, anymore. That made me feel a lot better. Also, I found the scrub brush. It was buried in a box. I’d missed it, probably because I was so panicked. I still have it, though. It’s safe and sound.
It didn’t snow, Saturday. It was dreary, cold, and “winter” feeling weather. We put up some of our Christmas decorations. I’ll wait on the tree. We usually put it up the day after Thanksgiving. Our outdoor lights and decorations will get put up over the next couple weeks. House is looking good, though!
Last night, we ate soup and then put on some movies to watch. Adam, the dogs, and I got the couch. The kids sprawled out on the floor. It was a lot of fun.
Woke up this morning and I’d left the dishes in the sink. The living room is a mess of pillows and blankets. Not the way I normally leave my house, when I go to bed! I’ll be spending the morning cleaning up, but it was worth it. Everybody had a really nice “pretend snow day” in, Saturday.
I was standing here, in front of my kitchen sink, listening to the sound of my kids playing and laughing outside. My daughter’s best friend is here, for the weekend. The three of them are having so much fun. I see them jump on the trampoline. I see them running around on the swing set, playing hide and seek. Oliver (our dog) chases them. It’s the most precious sights and sounds. I thought, I need more time. It isn’t long enough that I have left, hearing their laughter, while I’m watching my kids play out in our backyard. They keep on growing up. One day, not long enough from now, I won’t be able to look out my window, and see my babies playing happily. They’ll be off, doing grown up things, with their own lives to live. They won’t be here, everyday. This is very hard for me to think about. I know the goal is to raise independent, intelligent, productive people. Grow them into people who can go out into the world and make something for themselves. I only wish I could slow it down, just a little. I’m trying to “soak in” these last years, with them here. I’m trying to live “in the moment”, with them, while they’re here. How many more Christmas seasons will my children be here to help me decorate? I do a thing, every year, we call “25 days of Christmas”. It starts on Nov 30. Every single day is an activity. I plan a calendar. Some days we are making a paper chain to count down the days til Christmas. Some days, we’re drinking hot cocoa and watching a Christmas themed movie. Some days, we make cards to send to soldiers who are deployed, and won’t be home for Christmas. We make “wish lists”. We donate to those less fortunate. We make gift bags to hand out to the homeless, full of all kinds of essentials and yummy snacks. We make cookies and candy. How much longer? I look forward to making our “25 days of Christmas” calendar, every year!
Everyone has their gifts. Everyone has something they are just real good at. My thing? Being a mama. That’s all I ever wanted. Since I was a small child, I dreamt of becoming a mom. I’m not perfect. I’ve made my share of mistakes. Being their mama is my pride and joy, though. Being a good mama is everything to me. Of course, I aim to be the best wife, sister, daughter, and friend that I can be. I’m doing the thing I was meant to, right now. But, I need more time! There’s still so much I want to do with my babies. I’m not ready for them to grow.
I wrote the first half of this, yesterday evening. It is now Saturday morning. Adam did go into work, early. I felt him climb out of bed at around 5:00am. I stayed in bed. I was watching a movie, Christmas themed (of course), with the dogs curled up in bed with me. I heard our system announce “person detected at front door”. I grabbed my phone and checked. It was my son, running out to meet an adult friend of ours who hires him to help with his Lawncare business, sometimes. They had made tentative plans to do some work, but I never dreamed they’d actually be working in this cold weather. I got up and went to go check outside. I wanted to see if there was any snow. We did not get snow here. We did get some ICE, though. The rain has frozen into a nice sheet of ice over everything. I panicked and sent Adam a text. I told him I don’t like our son being out in it! Adam insisted the roads are fine. I sent this picture I took of the deck, covered in ice.
I text our son. I didn’t think it looked like he had a heavy coat on, when he left. He insisted that he did have it, and he would stay safe. I had to laugh, because our son is just like Adam, when he texts me. It’s both adorable and frustrating!
One more thing I wanted to add to my post, for today. The truth is, I’m still embarrassed. I realized, last night, that I had done something Adam absolutely hates, a few days ago. He’s had a long week. I never wanted to add to it. So, I had sort of, totally “sidestepped” the truth about something really stupid. I knew I was going to have to tell him. I wasn’t sure I’d find the courage to do it last night, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to hold it in for long.
When we got in the shower, I asked him, “So, what if I told you something that made you real mad, this week. This week, that I’ve tried SO hard to be supportive and a great wife. This week, that you’ve not quite been yourself.” He asked me what I was trying to tell him? I immediately started to sob. I mean, I was shook up. I explained that I have felt so proud and so good. I told him, I know it was stupid. I wanted to tell him the truth in a way that caused the least upset or aggravation, because he was not very happy, all week. He softened, a lot. He reminded me that he has not come home angry or been mean. I said I knew that, but I can feel his tension in every text message. I can feel it, the moment he walks in the door. All I want to do is make it better. If I can’t do that, at least, not make it worse! The last time that I did this, was the worst spanking I’d received. I was afraid of that, but I was devastated to lose the progress I’d made. I was bawling because I felt like a failure, and it hurt me, probably as much as Adam! I know that my, very obvious, recognition of how serious this was to him, softened Adam’s own frustration with the situation. He didn’t insult me or raise his voice. He didn’t even look angry. His eyes were kind. He cupped my face in his hands, wiped my tears, and put his face close to mine. He told me he is still very proud of how hard I’ve worked to do the things he’s asked. He promised me that, this setback doesn’t erase all of the good I’ve done. He said, “I love you so much, baby. I’m never going to expect you to be perfect.” Then, he told me he forgot to wear his seatbelt, the other day, but he hadn’t told me about it. Finally, he kissed me, and said that I was still getting a spanking. I must’ve looked pitiful, because he gave me a grin and told me it would be cruel if he didn’t punish me. He wasn’t mad at me, but he couldn’t let it go without a spanking, because that would be inconsistent. I tend to have many more failures when he isn’t consistent. He knows this. I understood. I wasn’t excited, but I completely understand what he was saying. I expected it to be much worse, if I’m honest. I was afraid he would be angrier than I’ve ever seen. I was so ashamed to add more shit to his, already shitty, week. I hadn’t even felt any guilt, before last night, because I truly feel like I’m protecting him, when I skate around the truth about something that doesn’t hurt anyone. I feel like I’m helping, in the moment. It’s hard to explain, but Adam understands me well. He knows what I mean.
When we got out of the shower, he ushered me toward our bed. I had my towel wrapped around me. I asked, “Can’t I, at least, put my shirt on?!” I almost always wear one of Adam’s t-shirts to bed. He shook his head, picked me up in his arms, and carried me to our bed. I didn’t want to fight him. I knew I had done wrong. It’s not easy to hold still, when you’re so fearful, though. I’d reached my hand around to cover my bottom. Adam reminded me, “Don’t try to block. It’ll just earn you more of these.” I moved my hand. He was smiling. He does that when he’s sympathetic of my situation. He’s very patient, but won’t let me escape punishment. He lifted my towel, and swatted my butt several times, with his hand. It was not pleasant, but not nearly as painful or serious as the last time. Then, he sat down beside me. He told me he could see how truly sorry I was. He said that, he could see how hard I’m trying, and he felt guilty that I didn’t feel comfortable coming to him about something so stupid, this week. He told me he was going to work on that. He never wants me to hold back from telling him the complete truth, because I’m afraid he will be mean or cruel. He assured me, he will never be any harder on me, if I screw up when he’s had a bad day.
I wanted my husband, when we went to bed. I started to run my hands through his chest hair and slowly down, further south on his body. He asked me, “Are you sure you’re ready?” My lady parts were feeling pretty good. I wanted to try. We both got laid last night, and we both enjoyed it!
Went into my doctor, this morning, and got some good antibiotics to take. Should be feeling much better within 12 hours! My daughter rode with me, and we picked her best friend up after my appointment. Her best friend is spending the weekend with us. The kids didn’t have school, today. It’s Veteran’s Day. It’s beautiful outside. Cold front comes in, late tonight, and now they’re saying we’ve got a 60% chance of snow tomorrow!
We got this invitation, in the mail, yesterday. I really want to go! I love Opryland at Christmas time. It’s gorgeous. It’s fun to have an excuse to wear a little black dress and get my hair and make up done. And, I get to see my husband all dressed up, just for me! He takes his work clothes off as soon as he walks in the door. He wears jeans and a t-shirt, or basketball shorts and a t-shirt, at home.
It’s been a long time since I’ve stopped by Adam’s work. Back, before we had babies, I would even go hang out with him, sometimes. Seeing my man in this world that, I’m not a part of. Seeing him be so good at things I can’t begin to understand. I have a basic understanding of what he does. I could never do it, though. It’s sexy to watch the way he carries himself. The way other people treat him. That phrase, “step into my office”, that he uses when he wants me to come to our bedroom with him, I can only imagine the sinking feeling these people at work must get, when he says it to them. As long as it works out for us to go to this showboat event, I’ll be able to pop into Adam’s work for a little while, before we go. I’ll need to meet him there, so we can make it to the event on time. He told me he would love to take me, so I think it’s a date! ❤️
The kids are playing outside, today. Tomorrow, we’re going to put up some Christmas decorations. We’ll make popcorn garland, have hot cocoa, and make it a fun day in. I’m making vegetable beef soup for supper. We’ll likely do some baking tomorrow, too. Adam’s planning to go into work, Saturday, but I’m sure it depends on the weather. I’m kind of hoping it snows, just so he can stay home with us. He’s had a long week. Work has been a lot of pressure, for him. I keep teasing him that, I haven’t done a damn thing wrong, but if I had, I sure as heck wouldn’t tell him this week! I need to get laid. HE needs to get laid. It’s been a couple of very long days. Here’s hoping the meds kick this infection quickly!!
Kids are calling for me. This is all the news I have, for now, anyhow.
I’m not feeling well, today. About 8 years ago, Adam got an infection from a cut in his hand. The antibiotics he was prescribed didn’t work. He had a MRSA infection so bad, he was rushed to a bigger hospital for surgery, and spent a few days in the intensive care unit. Doctors said he almost lost his hand. Since then, we’ve had occasional bouts with stupid freakin’ MRSA. I’ve had it a couple of times. Once in my armpit, once behind my ear. Our daughter had it, in her knee, once. That was awful for her. It’s been years since we’ve had any issues with it, though. Well, I have come down with, what I’m certain, is a MRSA infection, in a real bad spot.
I like to keep my lady bits “groomed”. A few days ago, I noticed some swelling and soreness on the right side of my…outer lady parts. I thought it could’ve just been from sex or something. It’s only gotten worse. I assume I’ve introduced my nemesis, MRSA, to my most intimate of areas. Today, it’s even worse, and now I have pain radiating down my inner thigh, hot to the touch, and a fever. I made an appointment to go see my doctor, tomorrow morning. I can only do housework for about half an hour, before I’m exhausted and have to sit down. Needless to say, I’m taking it easy.
Hopefully, this will get figured out tomorrow, and I’ll be mending soon! It had never occurred to me, I could get this infection there. Ugh.
Speaking of weather, it’s been gorgeous. We’ve had highs in the mid 70s to the low 80s and kept windows open day and night here. Today, it’s down right stuffy, in the house. Tomorrow, a cold front is coming. They are actually giving us a 50% chance of SNOW, on Saturday!!! I’m not excited. I hate the cold. Pretty sure I’ve mentioned this.
Here’s the thing. Everybody has struggles and pain. I was never supposed to show mine. We were a “perfect” family. That Hallmark Christmas movie you watch, when the main characters go home to their family, and it’s this amazing family. Growing up, I needed everyone to see that in my family, as much as my family asked from me that I showed it to the world. We were fucking royalty, where I grew up. My family was the rich family. I always had all the newest things. Gaming systems, clothes, cell phones. My mother drove the carpool to and from cheer practice. My friends were jealous. My life was perfect. Only, it wasn’t! That’s what kills me. I struggle with this. Part of me feels so guilty for bitching, because I understand I had so much. I still do! I also so want to be able to talk about the story nobody else knew. I need to be able to write here, honestly. I don’t want to seem like a spoiled brat. I don’t mean to be like that. You don’t know what goes on behind the closed doors of anyone’s home. People don’t realize that the “image” presented that can seem so damn great, maybe it isn’t. Everyone has secrets. Everyone has pain they’re not supposed to talk about, I think?
I’m never “sugar coating” my life here, with Adam. I’m raw and honest. I write about my screw ups. I write about successes. I write about my struggles and my worries. I can’t always go “deep”, when I write. I am always true to myself, though. There are days, when I feel tremendous guilt for whining about my stupid problems. There are days, when I just want to take the time to acknowledge how blessed that I know I am. There are days, when I need to spill the truth about the things I hide from the rest of the world. I know that I have a hard time getting much into my own childhood. I still have so much inner turmoil when I discuss those things. I never showed the shit to anyone. I never wanted to share the truth, that my family wasn’t a god damn Hallmark movie, either. Is there such a thing? Is there, though??
I worry, every single day, about my own children growing up and having to recover from their childhood. I want to give them everything. I want them to have nice things, but more than that, I don’t want them to ever have to “pretend” that their family isn’t who we are. I know damn well, I ain’t perfect. I’m not a perfect wife, or mama. I can say, with 100% truth I try, though.
I can’t imagine where I would be now, without “my people”. I didn’t have that perfect childhood that most people assumed, but I do have people who I know I matter to. My marriage isn’t perfect, but it’s still amazing. I’m not a perfect mama or friend or sister or daughter, but I’m enough. I know this. I know it, because my mom taught me. She taught me what I don’t want to do. There were moments, where my mother did some “motherly” things. I remember, she took me to get a new outfit for my first “date”, when I was 14 years old. She gave me a dish scrub brush, just weeks before she went all in on her “meds”. I still have that scrub brush. It’s sitting under my sink. I can’t use it. For me, it’s like a reminder that maybe my mom did love me, in her own way?
As a kid, growing up, if I was sad, my friends would get angry with me. Ohhh your life is just so terrible. If my mom saw me cry, she would be either angry, because what did I have to cry about? Or, she would get the satisfaction of knowing she got to me, when she was trying to hurt me. I learned that tears were unacceptable. I learned that, to show people my pain is weak, pathetic, self loathing, and I’m not allowed to feel that way because, look at what other people deal with! You don’t grow up knowing what’s “normal”. You don’t understand that, not everyone goes home to the family you do. I did have a lot. I had everything I ever needed and most of the things I ever wanted. The first time my mother really hugged me, was after I was raped. I remember it so well. She gave me a big hug. There were several people in the room. I just went with it, like that was our normal! Stupid me, honestly believed that maybe she had “turned a new page”? Maybe she would be like that, now? Even if it was just when people were watching, she would be that Hallmark movie mom. I was ok with that! At least there was some affection. At least she loved me enough to put her arms around me, occasionally? I make sure to hug my children, consistently. Every morning, before they leave for school, I hug them. I tell them the same thing, everyday. I say Have a great day! See you after school. I love you! I say it to each one of them, separately, too. Every night, before bed, I hug my children. I say the same things, every night. Goodnight! See you in the morning. I love you! My kids walk into the room and give me random hugs, constantly. I would never want them to feel like I don’t want their hugs. If my mother ever told me I love you, I’ve forgotten. Because, I sure don’t have a single memory of her telling me that, and I’m pretty certain I’d remember it.
I don’t want to get “into it” anymore than I have. I just needed to say some of this stuff. I needed to say, everybody has hurt. I’m tired of trying to compare trauma, and feeling guilty for complaining. As if anyone’s pain shouldn’t matter, because look how much worse this person had it. I’m tired of feeling selfish for needing to process my own shit.
I realize, I might be a little nuts. I’m writing this, in my kitchen, while I’m fixing supper. It’s Tuesday evening, so I won’t be posting this until tomorrow morning. Adam walked in the door. I had music playing, like always. A goofy song came on, and I started dancing in the kitchen and laughing. I sat here, writing about things that hurt real bad, but I’m glad to dance in the kitchen, with my husband, as soon as he comes in. He had no idea what was going on inside my head, just moments earlier. I prefer it that way. I very rarely show the “real world” what’s happening inside my head and heart. I don’t want to put this on Adam, my children, or Jackie. Jackie has childhood trauma that I can’t begin to imagine. She’s going to be coming up for supper soon. It’s almost time for her to be off work. I’m going to laugh and dance and enjoy another beautiful evening with my people.
Gizmo passed away in my daughter’s arms, yesterday. She went up to him, as soon as she got home from school. She came down sobbing and holding him. She said “MAMA!” She held him close to her chest, while he took his last breaths. I was thankful she was able to do that. At least, she got to know she comforted him, in his last moments. I think the hardest part of being a parent, is seeing your child’s heart breaking and not being able to fix it.
We had a “funeral” for Gizmo, last night. Adam dug a hole, under the same tree Gadget is buried under. I plan to scatter the ashes of my cat, Buddy, there too. I haven’t been able to do it, yet.
The kids are home from school, today. It’s Election Day. I’m spending the day just lovin’ my babies. I’m so proud of my son. He’s growing into a “man” before my eyes. He stayed strong for his sister. He helped to bury Gizmo. He found our dog had dug up by his grave, this morning, and he ran out there and fixed everything, so Mj never needs to know about that. I know everyone says it, but I have the best kids! How did I get so lucky? I have a very blessed life, with an amazing husband and children. I have a big, beautiful house. We always have enough food to eat. I sit back and think, why me? I write about the hard stuff, but I also have a whole lot to be grateful for.
I haven’t talked much about the early days, with me and Jackie. I met her because her family lived next door. We were kids. I didn’t know the extent until much later, but she endured every kind of abuse there is, growing up there. Her “parents” were the most vile people. She would come to my house as often as she could. We played darts. We jumped on the trampoline for hours. We would sit out on our porches, when she wasn’t allowed to leave her house, and “hang out” from there. She’s been in my life longer than anyone, besides my Dad and my brother and sister. She’s been part of all my life. She knows my secrets, my struggles, my pain. She’s supported me through my heartache. I’ve been here through hers. We introduce ourselves as sisters to new people. She calls my dad her dad. She has nothing to do with the people who raised her, and I don’t blame her. For Jackie, we are her family. These things, from her past, are a big reason why I’m more understanding and forgiving, with her. She still has a lot of deep hurt she’s working through. I’m not sure it’ll ever “stop” hurting, for her. My own pain from trauma sure don’t. I have compassion and deep love for Jackie. I love her in a much more pure and real way than I loved my mother. I loved the persona my mother put on for everyone else. I loved who I wished my mother was. I love Jackie, and I know who she is. She’s done some stupid things. I’ve gone months without speaking to her. We always find our way back, though. I’ve found, I can survive without her, but I don’t want to. My world isn’t complete without her in it. And, I recognize that we are all she has. I feel a great responsibility for her. That’s not to suggest she hasn’t been here for me. There are plenty of my own life events she’s been by my side through. I truly don’t believe that everyone comes across relationships like we have. Friendships that can last for decades. Ones that don’t seem to be breakable, no matter what. She can hurt me! It isn’t often. There are three times she’s really hurt me, all for different reasons. I’m not afraid to stick to my principles. I will tell her YOU PISSED ME OFF! I will wait for her to come to me and acknowledge what she’s done. Then, I will forgive her, because she’s truly sorry. She’s never repeated something she’s done to me. The truth is, what happened a couple weeks ago, wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been. It was one of those things that she knew would hurt me, though. It’s very hard for me to get past having people, who I trust to love me, willfully hurt me. I forgive her. I’m over it. Adam’s forgiveness took a little longer. We are getting there, though!
Sooo long ago, before my daughter was born, I had this minivan I hated. I never drove it. I always drove my white, sporty little car, instead. I’d let Jackie take my minivan whenever she needed a vehicle, because she didn’t have one. An idiot she was dating had crossed the line. This is the same idiot that I beat the crap out of later, after he’d blackened Jackie’s face and eyes. I didn’t like him. I loved Jackie, though. Adam had told me, he didn’t want me spending time with Jackie, until she was ready to get away from this idiot. I did not obey. I never told Jackie about this, until just last night.
It was such a beautiful day, yesterday. Jackie and I sat out on the deck. Adam joined us for awhile. I had told him, a couple days ago, Jackie wanted to apologize, but she was afraid of him. Jackie told me she knew she had crossed the line with him. She wasn’t sure how to say sorry, though. I recommended just talking to him. I’m sure not afraid of Adam! I KNOW him. She’s a little more fearful of angry Adam, though. He would never, ever lay a hand on her. He’s a little scary when he’s angry, though, if you’re anyone other than me or our kids. I talked to Adam. I told him Jackie was very sorry, and she wanted to apologize to him, but didn’t know how to, because she was afraid of him. He asked me, “you trying to guilt trip me now?” I told him no. That was the truth. Jackie was gone Friday and Saturday. On Sunday, when she got home, she had brought something thoughtful for Adam. I knew it was her way of apologizing. Adam did, too. They were a lot more like the way they used to be, then. It made me very happy.
This morning, I went to my daughter’s school and watched her get an award for being on the Honor Roll. Mj is such a smarty pants! She’s always done well in school.
I recognize how blessed that I am to be able to be there with my kiddos, for things like this. Not every child, who got an award, was able to have a parent there to celebrate with them. I love and appreciate Adam for always making that possible for me and our babies.
I haven’t done one damn thing to get into trouble with Adam. He’s been, playfully, slapping my butt. He hasn’t been upset with me. He told me he was really proud of me, these last several days. He said that he feels respected, when I obey him, even when it’s hard for me to do. I love making him feel proud and respected. I’m working hard to keep it up. Sex has been amazing. He doesn’t have to be gentle, when there’s no recent issue or spanking. We both need to “make love”, for awhile, after I’ve messed up. We’re a lot more kinky and fun, when I don’t have a desperate need for Adam to remind me that he still loves me. I feel more confident. I’m not ashamed. It’s just…sexy and fun!
Today is a quiet, happy day. No worries or troubles. It’s gorgeous out. I like to hang our bedding out on our deck to dry. I absolutely love the smell of clean linens that have dried out in the sun!
Our son had his first wrestling match, yesterday. He won the first, lost the next. He had a blast, though! Our little girl lost one of her pet rats, to old age, over the summer. Her other one is dying now, too. It breaks my heart seeing her crying, because she knows what’s happening. The first one to pass, was named Gadget. This guy is called Gizmo. I want an orange tomcat. I’ve been mentioning this to Adam, a lot. Our daughter also wants one, so she’s been helping me work on Adam. Maybe, when Gizmo does go, we’ll be able to talk him into it? Not that I won’t miss Giz! It is incredible the capacity for love these rats have. They’re gentle, they love ear scratches. They actually feel bad, if they accidentally grab a little of your finger with a treat you’re giving them. They run into a corner and look guilty, much like a dog does. We’d coax them back, because they would refuse the treat you’re offering for awhile.
About five years ago, a gray kitten approached me, in our backyard. He looked hungry and dirty. I gave him some food and he climbed in my lap and snuggled in. I posted all over the neighborhood about this cat, hoping an owner would come forward. No one ever did. He never left our home. I got him neutered and microchipped. He had a collar with his name and address on it. We called him “Buddy”. At first, because we didn’t know his name, and later, because that’s what we’d been calling him. Last year, Buddy was standing on top of my cabinet my dad built me, that houses our trash can. He suddenly fell off and landed on the floor with a THUD. I saw it happen. I thought he fell? I ran to him and, my gosh, his eyes…he looked so scared. That look I saw in them still haunts me. My dad suggested, he may be having a seizure, so not to move him. I quickly realized, that wasn’t what was happening to him. I screamed HE’S DYING! I pulled him into my lap and held him and stroked his head. He relaxed, and then he died, looking me right in the eyes. I did not compose myself well. I was crying in a way my babies have never seen their mama cry. My daughter stood with Adam, her face pressed into his chest, sobbing. My son had tears rolling down his cheeks, but he sat next to me and put his arms around me. After some time had passed, Adam and our son went to find a box to put Buddy into. We never knew what happened to him? He was only, about, 4 years old. I took him to our vet clinic, where they sent him in for cremation. I still have his ashes. I intend to scatter them, under a tree, in our backyard. Buddy was the best, sweetest, most cuddly cat I’ve ever had. He was “derpy”. His tongue would hang out when we were petting him. He would sleep in one of our arms through the entire night. He never relieved himself anywhere besides his litter box. I know that I’ll never replace him. I’m just ready to love another big ol’ derpy tomcat.
If it isn’t obvious, by now, I absolutely love animals. They’re pure and they love us unconditionally. They don’t judge or insult. They are just, always there for us.
These are my random thoughts, and ramblings, for today.
We had a good friend for years and years. He’s in his late 40s, hopelessly single, kind of goofy, but we loved him. He spent so many Easter, July 4, Thanksgiving, and Christmas Eves with us. I have a tradition for Christmas Eve. I buy pajamas for everyone, and they open them on Christmas Eve. The kids look forward to it every year. I always included our friend, because he was always at our house. I won’t be buying pajamas for him, this year, because he won’t be here.
About a year ago, he started to get extra weird. We didn’t see as much of him, and when we did, he wasn’t himself. He was constantly in the emergency room with “panic attacks”. He got mean and hateful to some other friends who’ve known him since they were kids. I suspected what was happening, but I didn’t want to believe it. He saw what we went through with my mother. He hated her for what she did to us. Now, he’s the one doing cruel things. It breaks my heart. He’s throwing away everyone and everything that ever mattered to him, and he’s too numbed up on drugs to care.
Our “friend” sent a text message to another mutual friend of ours suggesting our friend didn’t have enough money to “buy [Eve]”. As if I’m up for sale to any man with enough money to buy me. Ridiculous. It makes me sad. It made Adam livid. I talked him down. I told Adam, I don’t want him to do anything. I’m not angry. My feelings are hurt. Adam told me, “Believe it or not, your feelings matter to me. That’s what makes me so mad. Nobody talks like that about my wife.” I understand that saying or doing anything to this friend will only feed into his delusions. It will simply confirm the lies he tells himself about how awful WE all are to him. The best thing we can do, is nothing. We can’t fix his problem. He doesn’t want our help.
Addiction isn’t picky. It finds everyone. Rich, poor. Uneducated, highly educated. Mechanics, coal miners, lawyers, doctors. Men, women. Young, old. I have compassion for these people. I truly do. I don’t know how to get past the damage they’ve done to me when they’re not even sorry. My mother, this friend, they don’t even acknowledge that they have done this. I refuse to continue to allow it in my life. One day, if these people are willing to work on themselves, recognize the things they’ve done, and ask for forgiveness, I will be there. Until then, I still have some pretty great people.
Oooohwee, shooo buddy, bless the heart of anyone who tries to accuse me of something I didn’t do!! I am polite, patient, understanding, and forgiving, until someone gets an attitude and treats me as if I’m guilty of something I didn’t do. I was using the self checkout at a grocery store, one time, and the old hag standing there accused me of trying to steal some freakin’ laundry detergent. She worked at the store, and she must’ve taken her minimum wage job very seriously, because she marched over to me, and tried to say that I had scanned something else as if it was the detergent. I know people do that. I’m not one of them. I argued, respectfully, that no ma’am, this is the laundry detergent that I scanned showing right here on the screen. She says, nope, there’s no way that was only $8. At that point, people are starting to stare at us like I was a damned thief. I told her scan it! She wouldn’t do it. She was calling for a manager on her handy dandy, mall cop style, walkie talkie. I picked up the detergent, and ran it over the scanner. Once again, $8 showed on the screen. I told her, seee, now remove this second charge so I can finish buying my groceries. Lady finally says, oh, well, I need laundry detergent. Thanks for reminding me. What the….? Situations like that make my blood boil!
Yesterday, I had my doctor’s appointment. Perfect. I’ve gained 3.4 pounds! My blood pressure is 100/63. I’ve been taking my vitamins, so my iron level is going up. I love my doctor. I’m very irritated with their billing department, however. When I got home, I grabbed our mail from our mailbox. I had a bill for an appointment my daughter was there for, end of September. It claimed I owed $25, which is the copay we have with our health insurance. I always pay that before we go back to see the doctor! I knew I’d paid it. I called. I was polite. I explained the situation. This lady would not stop insisting that I, most certainly, had not paid that day, because they have no record of it. She told me that, if I had a bank statement proving I’d paid it, I could bring it in there and show them. Bitch please. I didn’t say that, but I wanted to. I said, it’s an hour drive, in traffic, to get to the clinic from my house. I’m not going to spend two hours of my day driving to and from there over a bill that I shouldn’t have been sent. We went in circles before I was, finally, able to get an email address that I could send the bank statement to. Was that really so hard?! Lady had an attitude and wouldn’t even entertain the idea that, just maybe, I was telling the truth. Then, before we hung up, she made a snide remark about how my daughter would not be able to be seen until this is paid. Oh my GOSHHH! I said, ma’am , I’ma go ahead and send this proof of payment right now. Next time, it would be great if you don’t make me do y’all’s job. And I hung up the phone. Whew. I was fuming mad.
Then, when Adam got home, he asked me to “step into his office”. That is code for, go to our room, you’re in trouble for something. Only, this time, I had absolutely NO idea why?! I had my fill of accusations, and I struggled not to lose my shit. He could see this happening, so he assured me I was not in trouble. He wanted me to log into our bank accounts and show him something. I think he worries that I’m hoarding money away. I am a bit “extra”, sometimes. I like to save as much as I possibly can. I have a deep seeded fear that we might need it, and then what if we didn’t have it? Covid was tough on us. We spent nearly 2/3 of our savings to get through it. I can’t stand the feeling of laying awake at night, worrying about the what if’s. I had not put any extra money away into accounts we can’t withdraw from. I’d told him about everything I was doing. He was satisfied. I was a little hurt that he didn’t fully trust me, but I understand why. I’ve done this before, recently even.
It felt like I spent the entire day proving my innocence! It’s a good feeling, when I’m vindicated. I’d done nothing wrong, yesterday.
Today, I’ve got a bunch of errands to run. I’m going to keep on crossing off my “to do’s”. I went above and beyond, yesterday. I even did things that I didn’t have to do. Here’s hoping nobody tries to cross me…again…today. I just might not be able to hold myself back!
In our house, when the kids have a disagreement that can’t get resolved between them, we have “court”. They each present their cases before Adam, and he makes the final verdict. They had a “hearing”, recently. Our son promised to pay our daughter $20 to help him with something. She helped him. He paid her $10, but she wanted her other $10. He had decided that $10 was fair. She disagreed. They each gathered all “evidence” to present. Our son had even changed into some “church clothes” to wear to “court”. It turned out, our daughter had a signed “contract”. Our son had agreed to pay her $20. They both use phrases like your honor and objection. It’s, honestly, adorable. I believe Adam’s verdict is obvious in this picture, here!
Adam wants me to pay the bill we got for work done in our house. I plan to get it done! It’s not even “due” until the end of this month. I couldn’t do it yesterday, because I had a lot going on and I wasn’t home most of the day. I told him I have my doctor appointment today, but I promised to have it done by Friday evening. If I get home early enough, I’ll do it today. It’s kind of a pain because I have to meet up and get a physical check to pay them. It’s not as simple as a phone call or online bill pay. I explained these things to him. I do not feel like having to deal with “judge hardass”, tomorrow. I will make sure it gets done.
I’ve been consistently writing here since early Summertime. It’s different. I used to only write when I felt like it. I knew I needed an outlet, and I decided to try writing in my blog, again. It’s beyond helpful. Not only has it helped Adam, because I often share things with him so that he understands where I’m coming from. It helps me tremendously, too. I’m brutally honest in my writing. I don’t sugar coat things. Some days, there isn’t a whole lot for me to say. I just write what I’m feeling. I had told Adam, when I looked back, I feel like all I do is fuck up. I see progress, but I also see my failures. Too many of them! I think this is why he’s made a conscious effort to remind me that he sees the things I do right, and there’s more of those than either of us remember to give me credit for. I need to hear “‘atta’ girl” once in awhile, too. I can see that Adam is making an effort to give that to me. It isn’t only about punishing me when I screw up. It’s also praising the things I don’t screw up. Even when I do wrong, I appreciate having Adam recognize that I did right by coming to him and admitting it. He says that he knows I’m trying, and he sees improvement in these things he’s asked of me. He tells me that, if he didn’t think those things, he wouldn’t bother. I think it motivates me, at least as much, when he praises the good in me, as it does when he spanks me for the bad. I realize how much work it must be to walk in Adam’s shoes. Walking this line between being a “hardass” and standing firm when he needs to. I don’t really think he’s a hardass. I think he’s doing an excellent job of staying strong when it matters. That’s a good thing, even if my behind pays the price for it.
Yesterday morning, Adam’s day got started off on a bad note, and didn’t really get much better throughout the day. I was in a great mood, but I can tell when he’s grumpy at work, because he’s short with responses and much more quiet than usual. Jackie pays rent in the first of every month. She asked me if she could pay us her rent in two weeks, when she gets her next paycheck, because she had some unexpected things come up. I know better than to give her an answer to that question without talking to Adam first. I texted him about it. He called me. I got the “don’t make a habit of it or ask me again, but okay just this once” lecture, as if I was the one asking for a favor. I didn’t get an attitude with him or anything, though. He was late getting home, so it was after 8:00pm when he finally walked in the door here. I kept his supper warm. Adam has never, not once, walked into our home, after work, and brought his worries, frustrations, or troubles in with him. He is amazing about that.
Our son had been getting recruited by the wrestling coach. The coach asked him to come to a practice and then, last night, coach texted our son and asked him to join their team. The coach had already spoken to our son’s baseball coach and they’d worked out a schedule for him to do both. He was so proud and excited to tell his Dad! My son and I teased Adam about our plans to turn the house into a “Christmas wonderland” and we all laughed. Adam pretends to be a “Scrooge”, but it’s all an act. He loves that we all love Christmas time and he gets a kick out of pretending to be a buzzkill about it.
When it was time to get in our shower, Adam smacked my butt, as I was climbing in. I splashed some water on his face. He spanked me, again. I splashed, again. He spanked, again. I smacked his arm. He spanked me, again. I splashed him. He spanked me. This went on, no less than 20 rounds, before I couldn’t take it anymore. My behind was throbbing. Stubborn me hated to give in, but damn! Then, Adam asked me about something I had really hoped we wouldn’t have to discuss, right then. Earlier in the day, I had found out that some work we were having done here had run about 25% over budget. I had not mentioned it to Adam, because it didn’t seem like a good time to do that. He knew I’d spoken to someone about it, because we’d just had a conversation, the day before, when I’d mentioned calling to find out, since I hadn’t seen a bill, email, text, nothing yet. He asked me, “how much was it”? I blurted out the original estimate. He said, “$x? Thats it?” I said “wellllllll”. He tilted his head and gave me a look. I told him, “alright, so it was more like $y.” He pressed me on that, too. “Ok, so it’s really $y? There’s nothing else?” I looked down. I said, “ugh, alright. The final, real, total is $z”.
We both recognized that I had just attempted to “side step” something there. However, I pointed out, I did not follow through. I couldn’t just lie to him when he pressed me on it. I really didn’t want to discuss it last night, because I knew Adam already had a shitty day, and it was the last thing I wanted to dump on him. Adam turned off the shower, got out, handed me a towel, and put one around his own waist. I got out and wrapped my towel around myself. He took my face in his hands and held it so I was looking him in his eyes. He told me “I am so proud of how hard you’re working here, [Eve]. I know you’re trying and I understand that you didn’t want to tell me about this, tonight, but I still deserve to know what’s going on. This is why I have to punish you. I love you. I will always love you.” He kissed my lips, and then he went to the closet. He re-emerged, carrying a belt. I sat down, on the side of our bathtub. He let out a little laugh and told me, “Honey, you know that doesn’t work. C’mon. Let’s get this over with.” I shook my head slowly, while I stared into his eyes, silently pleading with him. He walked to me and gripped his hand around my arm so that he could stand me up, facing him. I, instinctively, wrapped my arms around his neck. I whimpered and buried my face into his chest when he lifted my towel that had been covering my bottom. He landed that belt straight across the center of my butt. It hurt. I jumped on him, climbing higher up his body, with my legs wrapped around his waist and my arms tightly held around his neck. He spanked me, once more. This time, he was much gentler. I slid down him, like he was a fireman pole, and sat down on the floor, holding onto his leg. He leaned down. I used my hands to “block” my behind. He assured me he wasn’t going to spank me again, and he helped me stand up. He told me again, how much he recognizes that I’m doing right. He wants me to know that he appreciates my efforts, but he still has to call me out, when I screw up. He mentioned that I was lucky he didn’t punish me for “side stepping”, which he felt he could’ve been justified in doing. He wanted me to know that he was proud of me for being honest, even if he did have to pry it out of me, at first.
When we were in bed, later, the subject of Christmas decor came up. He told me no buying anymore garland or anything like that without asking him, first. I said I’m not planning on it. Then, I giggled a little bit, because that was a prime example of how easy it is for me to “side step”. I wasn’t planning on it, but if I needed more, well…. I told him all of this, though. I promised I won’t do it. See, I am catching myself and my side stepping ways.
This morning, I don’t have one single mark leftover from the belt. I am covered in little black and blue “spots” all over my behind, from my stubborn refusal to give in and quit splashing or smacking Adam back, in the shower. I am legit sore as hell, too. I feel the ache.
I had a lot of fun with my kids, yesterday! My first favorite song, when I was a little girl, was “Ghostbusters”. I played it while the kids were getting ready and danced around the kitchen singing it with them. Mj dressed as “Max” from the TV show “Stranger Things”. Our son dressed up as a baseball player. He’s obsessed with baseball, these days.
I swear, it was like a Hallmark channel movie, on our street, last night. This was our first Halloween in our new home. I loved it. Speaking of Hallmark movies…it is now, officially, November. My son asked me this morning, “Mama, do you know what time it is??” I replied, “6:19am?” He goes, “CHRISTMAS TIME!!!” Haha, my kid knows his mama. I absolutely love Christmas. I’m excited to decorate here in our new house this year, too. When I took the kids shopping for their last minute costume supplies, the stores had all the Christmas holiday stuff out. I started singing it’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas. Somehow, my kids aren’t all that embarrassed by me, yet! My son had also found a scarecrow for me, while we were shopping. Our dog had chewed my old one up, last year. He asked me which one I liked and then he threw it in the buggy and assured me, if Dad says anything, He put it in there and I didn’t know a thing about it. I have great kids 😆
Adam was a little less “cold” toward Jackie, last night. He responded to her when she spoke to him. He didn’t look quite as angry or “hard”. Hopefully, time will heal this, too. Other than all that, things have been going great here. I believe in the magic of the Christmas season. I love the way everyone takes the time to be a little more courteous, more giving of themselves, kinder, generous, forgiving. I have faith. It’ll all work out.
That last one was from the last night we spent in our old house, before we moved here to our new one. I had an emotional moment.
It was hard to choose from the plethora of photos I have with Jackie. Adam is my number 1. But, Jackie is my person. She’s who I go to when I need advice. She’s been with me through even more than Adam has. She took me to the hospital when I was in labor with my daughter. When I say she’s my best friend, I don’t mean that lightly. She is so important to me. I can’t imagine what I would do if she wasn’t in my life anymore. After Adam and my babies, she’s it. I love my Dad, my brother, my sister. I have some great other friends. But, Jackie is the only person who knows all of me, besides Adam, of course. We aren’t shy. There’s literally nothing off limits. You don’t find that kind of friendship everyday. It’s a once in a lifetime type of thing. She means the world to me. I would never just toss that away. It broke my heart to think that my trust could have been betrayed, even in a relatively small way. I know I can be reactive if certain “buttons” are pressed. I don’t believe I was wrong for feeling the way I did. I’m just beyond grateful that Jackie understands what she did and was willing to acknowledge it. My mother never apologized to me. Not once. She would blow up and scream and hit. I would hide somewhere. Eventually, she would act as if nothing was wrong. I would just go with it. That’s not something I’m capable of doing, anymore. I won’t push my upset “under the rug” and pretend it didn’t happen.
Adam isn’t as forgiving, to most people. He is still upset with Jackie. It’s making it difficult, because she can feel the tension when he’s in the room. Adam and I had a conversation about this, yesterday. I explained that I truly can forgive. When anyone who’s hurt me comes to me and sincerely apologizes, there’s nothing I can’t forgive. There is absolutely nothing that’s been done to me, by anyone, I couldn’t forgive. Adam told me that he admires that part of me. He said that I have such a big heart, and that makes it hard for him to let go of things that hurt me. He said that he’s become “much less of a dick, being with me, but he’s got no problem cutting out people who hurt his family”. I suspect he’s much more protective as a result of the things he watched my mother do to me. I understand he feels like he needs to “have my back”, and worries that I will end up back in that deep “hole” I was in until the last several months. I so wish he would let this incident go, though. I’m hoping time will soften his heart. He isn’t upset with me for mending things with Jackie. He’s just being…Adam. I love him so much for always looking out for me! I need my husband and my best friend to be friends again.
It’s always so foreign to me, when I see this side of Adam. He’s never directed it toward me. I get rare glimpses into this part of my husband. Even angry Adam is always careful and considerate of me and my feelings. Angry Adam is not like that, with anyone else. Our kids, of course, but outside of his immediate family, he’s kind of scary. I’M not afraid of him. I’ve seen the scars on his knuckles from his younger, wild, “don’t give a shit” days. I’ve seen him put some people in their places. I’ve overheard him chewing out someone at work. He pocket dialed me once, while he was at work, and holy moly… He hasn’t yelled at Jackie, or been cruel. He just isn’t willing to be very nice to her. That’s hard for me to see.
I asked Adam what I could do to him that would be unforgivable? He told me two things. Number 1, hurt our babies. Which, he knows, I’d never do. Number 2, cheat on him. Which, I’d never do. He repeated the question back to me. I agreed about hurting our kids. That’s my dealbreaker. I explained that, it would absolutely devastate me, if he cheated on me. It is hard to put this into the right words, but forgiveness would depend on whether he was sorry. I am not suggesting that it’s okay to cheat! It would be heartbreaking if he did that, and then deeply regretted it, apologized, worked with me to build trust again. It would crush my soul, if he cheated and wasn’t even remorseful. That’s the most important part, to me, when someone hurts me. Do you love me enough to hate that you hurt me? Do you love me enough to put in the work required to rebuild what you’ve damaged or destroyed? I told him that he could, literally, stab me in the heart, and the thing I would want most, would be for him to hold me and help me and be genuinely, sorry. That doesn’t mean things would just “go back to normal”. I desperately want the people I love, to love me like that, too. Maybe I’m wired differently than most? Maybe it seems stupid? It is how I feel, though.
I’ve never gotten out of a spanking, after Adam made the decision to punish me. I can, sometimes, explain myself in a way that helps to “soften” his heart. He has sympathy for me, even when he’s upset with me. Adam has told me, many times, that when he knows he is right, there’s nothing I can say or do to get out of trouble. There are circumstances where I will fully admit my fault. There are also times when I, sincerely, disagree with his assessment of my mistake. I can get angry and frustrated, when this happens. I’m just not one of those people who fully cooperates with discipline. I will, most always, go into our bedroom when Adam tells me to, even when I know he’s going to spank me. If I disagree with being punished, he might have to carry me, because I have been known to refuse. I have never, not even once, been able to force myself to obey an order to bend over, or turn over, and present my behind for Adam to spank. It isn’t simply because I’m stubborn. It isn’t because I think it’s funny to disobey him. I just cannot make my body do that. I freeze. Adam knows me very well. He’s an expert at reading my body language. He isn’t afraid to pick me up, put me over his knee, bare my bottom, and use his strength to hold me still, and spank me until he’s satisfied I’ve learned my lesson. I’ve never had a panic attack when he’s done it. That’s not to say it won’t ever happen, and if it does, I know full well what he would do. He would pause. He would do whatever was necessary to help me calm down. He would comfort me and reassure me. And then, he would spank me. I wouldn’t “get out of it”. I’ve also never really “lost my shit” when I was about to be disciplined. I’ve never screamed, cried, kicked, or any of those kinds of things. I can’t imagine ever doing that, but if I was that afraid, Adam would never force a spanking. He knows me. He knows when to be hard Adam and when to be soft Adam. He’s often both, at the same time, when he’s punishing me. That’s because he loves me. It’s because his goal is never to harm me or to traumatize me. The goal is to keep me safe, secure, and to assure me that he won’t ever let me fall. I wouldn’t have the love and the respect that I have for my husband, if he was ever cruel and uncaring. I wouldn’t learn anything, other than fear, if I didn’t know that he is always fair. He will spend hours explaining why I’m in trouble, a few minutes reddening my bottom, and then, as long as I need, talking and listening to me. He will sit with me until he is absolutely certain that I understand his reasoning, and I am confident that he considered mine.
I’m grateful that I can’t “get out of a spanking”. My writing may sometimes seem as if Adam is doing these things against my will. Never. Yes, I argue with him. Yes, I sometimes sit on the floor, attempting to protect my behind from him. Once in awhile, I don’t agree about deserving it. I have never been brought to our bedroom for a spanking, and then after, walked out of our bedroom feeling that way. I am absolutely certain that Adam’s heart would break if he ever did anything against my will. He knows that he has my consent, even when I’m in trouble. We’ve spent countless hours discussing these things. I’m positive that Adam would never spank my behind again, if he no longer had my consent. I don’t ever want that to happen! I can’t imagine going forward without this in our marriage. I trust Adam. I love him. I respect him. I need him. I also recognize my desire for his “hard hands”, when I’ve earned them.
Yesterday, I texted Adam, like I do every Friday, about bills I paid, money I put into various accounts, and all that super fun crap. I’m a saver. We have savings accounts for emergencies, for Christmas and birthdays, one for vacation, for medical bills, we have a couple retirement accounts, we have money invested in a (very uncertain) stock market. Having money set aside helps me to feel safe. My struggle, is there is never “enough” for me to stop worrying! Adam appreciates having money saved, but he prefers me to go over money management with him, before I make decisions. We had a good week, so I’d moved a decent amount into an account that can’t be spent easily. It takes days for money to transfer out of it and into our main account. This prevents any unnecessary, spur of the moment, expensive purchases. Well, Adam has been talking about buying a gas pickup truck to drive to work, instead of his duramax, because diesel fuel is outrageous. He loves his big ol’ diesel pickup, but it’s silly to be using it to get to and from work and spending $900 a month just for fuel to do that. So, we’ve talked about getting another truck he can use. He wanted to go look at one, yesterday. He wanted to be able to buy it, yesterday, if he liked it… I had just transferred that money from our main account. I told him this. He wasn’t happy. I didn’t know he wanted to look at a truck until after I’d told him I moved money, though! I, innocently, mentioned I’d done it, and this was when he informed me. How could I have known? I did try to argue that point, although I was not successful. I showed him my “book”. I keep track of expenses and all our accounts in it. I’m, generally, good at this. Still, I was in trouble.
I worked on him all day long. He was his regular, silly, supportive self. We’d talked on the phone, once. He was in a fine mood. He told me he was proud of me for a lot of other things I’d gotten done that he’d asked me to. I made myself a doctor appointment. Something he’s asked me to do all week. I got all our bills paid. I spoke to someone about a charge that I hadn’t made from my Amazon account. It got resolved. I shampooed the carpets. I got a lot done! Still, every time I asked if I was still in trouble, he would reply yes. I knew he wasn’t angry like when I “side step” the truth to him. I’d hoped maybe he was just going to call me into our room and lecture me and let that be it. I was nervous, anyway. I watched the front door camera, when I knew he’d be arriving home.
We were having, what I call, a “fend” night. Everybody chooses from leftover suppers I’ve saved. I was in the kitchen, setting out everything. Ham and cheesy potatoes, tuna casserole, chicken Alfredo, ribs, and lasagne were all options. The kids were outside, and Jackie was still working, so it was just me. Adam walked into the kitchen. He smiled. I returned a, cautious, half smile. He picked me up, threw me over his shoulder, and carried me into our bedroom. He laid me on our bed and held one hand on my back, while he used the other to pull my pants down. He gave me a few swats with his hand. It stung, but nothing hard enough to leave any lasting marks. I slid down onto the floor. Adam sat down in front of me. He talked to me about why he wants me to discuss things like that with him, before I make decisions with money. He assured me that, he never expects me to justify every dollar I spend. He feels that he deserves to know about things like I’d done, though. I do understand that. He would never spend or move large amounts of money without talking to me first. Yes, I take care of our finances, but that doesn’t mean he shouldn’t be informed about what I intend to do, the same as he does for me.
Later, in the shower, he told me that he hoped I understood that, even though he hadn’t spanked me too hard, or gotten angry, he meant it. I promised that, I absolutely understood. I am well aware that “warnings” like this are not repeated. If I do it again, my behind is going to regret it. I’ve experienced this plenty of times. The rest of our evening was wonderful.
Today, I’m taking the kids to grab a few things they need for Halloween trick or treating. Mj needs some temporary, spray on, red hair dye. We need candy for trick or treaters. So, we’re going to do some shopping. There’s no real plans for the rest of our weekend. Looks like it’s just going to be some family time at home, for the most part. I’m alright with that. ❤️
It happened. I was in my bathroom, throwing my hair up into a ponytail, when I caught someone out of the corner of my eye, in the doorway. It was Jackie. She had tears in her eyes and she asked me, “can I have a hug?” I hugged her and she cried and told me she was so sorry. Then, I bawled. We stood there for a long time. She had to get back to work. She works from home, in her apartment. So, she went back down there, and I wrote a text message to send her.
I had tried to tell her about how I’d just written, in my blog, about how much I needed to just know she was sorry. I didn’t want to make her think I had been angry and cruel toward her when I’d written. I wanted to explain where my heart truly was.
Jackie replied, shortly after.
I think it’ll take some time, but things are much better. Having her come to me meant the world to me. ❤️
We had “breakfast” for supper, last night. I am a decent cook, if I do say so myself, but bacon is Adam’sthing. He started the bacon as soon as he got home, while I worked on everything else. After supper, I cleaned up the kitchen, like always. Then, I made myself some arctic white chocolate hot cocoa and stood in the kitchen while I sipped on it and enjoyed a moment to myself. Adam walked in and smacked my behind. I, playfully, “slapped” his cheek. I would never seriously slap my husband. Then, he spanked me about a half dozen times. When he does that, even playfully, in that rapid fire succession, I about go crazy! I don’t want to tell him, but that actually hurts so much more than a few hard ones with a break, in between!! He wasn’t angry. We were just playing around. He asked me if I learned a lesson? I told him, “don’t do this”, and I “slapped” him, again. Ooof. He picked me up and threw me over his shoulder. He spanked me another half dozen or so times, as fast and hard as before. I screeched and climbed down so that I was straddling his waist with my legs and my arms around his neck. Adam called me his “little spider monkey” 😆 I didn’t retaliate, this time. My butt had had enough.
I had a nice afternoon hanging out with my little girl. We watched an old 1990’s Halloween movie with the Olsen twins in it. She was able to return to school today, feeling much better! Jackie had come up to bring Mj some cough drops, and I’ve seen her, in passing, a couple times. Besides that, we really haven’t spoken.
I’m really not just trying to be an asshole and hold a grudge, with Jackie. My struggle, is with the things she was willing to say and do while she was drunk and angry. I’ve overindulged, before. I’ve never done something like the things she did. It makes me feel like I can’t trust. This is something that I went through, with my mother, for years. It took enormous strength to finally cut my mother out of my life. I forgave my “mom” so many times, and I believed her every time she swore she was going to change. Allowing her in my life gave her a window into all of my shit. Good, bad, and ugly. My angry, drunk, and high mother would use those things to hurt me. She knew my struggles, my “skeletons in the closet”. Jackie knows literally ALL of me. I can’t believe she is capable of doing the same things she watched my mother do to break me. I love Jackie. I need her! I’m asking myself if I truly know her, anymore? Can I trust anyone?? What is wrong with me, that I find myself in this situation, again, with another person who is so willing to hurt me? I would absolutely never do that to anyone, let alone my loved ones! I can honestly say, I have never done things simply out of spite, just to hurt someone, in my adult life. As a young and dumb teenage girl, I did some cruel things. I won’t deny that. As an adult, I haven’t even been cruel to my worst enemies. I’m not “built” like that. I must be so naive to assume that the people I love would treat me the same. Jackie has been my very best friend for nearly 20 years. She’s done some shitty stuff. Nothing that’s cut me this deeply before, though. I don’t know what to do. She hasn’t even apologized. I refuse to “let it go” and just pretend like it didn’t happen. I won’t do it. None of this is easy or simple. My kids call her “aunt Jackie”. She’s with us for every birthday, every holiday, through the good and the bad. I’m not sure if I can go through what I did with my mother, again. I wonder if, maybe, I’m too reactive, because of my mother. Maybe I’m being too harsh. I just don’t know. I know that, at the very least, I need Jackie to acknowledge what she did, and be sorry.
Adam knows I’m hurting. He’s been incredibly supportive and sweet. I asked him, “what would you do if Miguel got in my face and talked to me like Jackie did to you?” (Miguel is one of Adam’s best friends). He told me, “Oh, I know what I’d do. And I would have no problem cutting him from my lifeafter I kicked his ass, either.” Then, he paused, and he told me he understands that it’s more complicated than that, for me, with Jackie. We’ve been so close for so long. He said he would support me, whatever I decide to do here. I know he’s not kidding about what he’d do if one of his friends did anything to hurt him or his family. Adam doesn’t tolerate bullshit from anybody. He’s kind and gentle and forgiving, with his family. He’s not like that with people who threaten us. I’ve seen a whole new, expert level of angry come out of him, when it comes to protecting his family. If I let this go, with Jackie, am I not protecting my family? Jackie is family, to me. This is so hard. I’m the type of person who, when I commit to something, I mean it. When I make a decision, a life changing difficult one, I know, in my heart, that’s it. I won’t go back on it. I’m loyal. I’m trustworthy. So, what is the loyal thing to do? Stand by my best friend, and forgive, and trust that this won’t happen again? I gave my mother countless chances. Doesn’t Jackie deserve that? I don’t know? Am I stupid if I trust her again? Am I heartless if I never let her back “in”? So many confusing thoughts, all at once. I wish she would apologize. I wish she could see how much she’s hurt me, and care. I hope she does. I need her to.
My daughter came home from school with a fever, yesterday. She’s still sick, and had to stay home. Today is their Halloween party at school. They’re watching Hocus Pocus and had treats and were going to change into their costumes. I hate that she had to miss out!
We got some crazy storms here yesterday, too! Strong winds and heavy rain. I took a really pretty picture.
My plans for the afternoon are to snuggle my little girl, and watch some “scary” movies. I don’t sit down like, ever. Very rarely, anyway. I’m always standing, moving, doing something. Everybody knows that, if I sit down to watch a movie, in about 10 minutes, I’ll be passed out. I don’t know why, but I cannot stay awake during a movie! I like music to be on while I’m cleaning or doing chores. That wakes me up. But, I promised my daughter I would sit and watch with her, today. Other than that, there isn’t a whole lot for me to write about, because there’s absolutely nothing else going on here!
I opened my big mouth. I said something to Adam that was not, exactly, or even remotely, respectful. He told me, “This is your one warning. It’s the only pass I’ll give you.” I could see that he was struggling with whether it was the right decision to let me slide, even just this once. I was good with it, though. Later, after we’d gone to bed, this came up again. I repeated the thing I had said, earlier, and decided to elaborate. I added some extra “glitter” to something Adam already did not appreciate… He wasn’t amused. He told me he couldn’t let this go. I panicked and told him that felt a lot like “double jeopardy”! He couldn’t put me on trial for the same crime! He wouldn’t bend, this time. He started to climb out of bed. I grabbed onto him and held my arms around his neck, and my legs around his waist, like a damn baby monkey on its mama. I begged him “NO! I don’t want to sleep on my stomach! Pleeeease don’t!” He just said, “I have to.” He held up his hand and told me he could use his hand or his belt. I swear, his hands turn to stone, when he’s punishing me with them. I wouldn’t make that choice, this time. His hand hurts like hell, too! More than the belt ever really has. Even though I know, deep down, the belt could do way more damage, if he wanted it to. He walked toward our closet, where the belts were. I’m still straddling him, doing my best to stop him, but getting nowhere. I jumped down when he opened the closet door. I ran to our bed and jumped onto it. He came toward me, carrying that mother fucking belt in his hand. I continued to plead with him. He told me to turn over. I said no. He pulled me up, his hand under my arm, so that I was standing, facing him. He swung the belt once, twice, three times. I, somehow, wound up on the floor. He rolled me over, onto my belly, and gave me one more.
He took his belt back to the closet while I sat up, on the floor. I tucked my knees up under my chin and laid my head on my knees. He came back to me and told me that he’d caught the belt on his own leg that first one, and it would’ve done a lot more damage, had he not done that. The truth was, it hadn’t hurt that much. The belt scares me so badly, though. I was breathing heavy and fighting myself not to let any tears come. He knows how afraid of that belt I am. He also knows how easily I can bruise. He never wants to seriously harm me. It seems that he goes back and forth between, either feeling like he was too harsh, or too soft. I sat on the floor, with my head resting on my knees, until he reached down and picked me up. He put me up on our bed. Then, he climbed in and covered both of us up. He pulled me into his arms while I continued to breathe heavily and worked to calm myself down. We didn’t say anything more. I woke up twice, through the night. Both times, I laid there and let myself cry in the dark. I’m not sure if I can explain the things I felt. I just needed to let myself cry.
This morning, I texted Adam and I told him I was sorry. He wrote me back thank you. Awhile later, I sent another text message with a more elaborate description of why I understood I was wrong. He text me we’re good. I wrote, ok. He replied, seriously, baby. And, that was the end of that.
I hate his belts. Yea. It’s plural now. Two belts. Equally terrifying. Also, I need to learn how to quit while I’m ahead. I do “push it”, with Adam. We’ve discussed this. He understands that it isn’t always easy for me to realize I’m losing my power, with him. He isn’t afraid of me, at all. It’s such a mixture of emotions, for me. Frustration and comfort.Fear and security. He’s, most certainly, assuring me that he is here, there, and everywhere. I can try to push him away, but he will stand firm. I can attempt to pull away from him, but he will hold me close. These recent spankings are no joke. I have two marks on my upper thigh leftover from that belt. Adam isn’t fooling around. I think I’m starting to realize this. Holy hell. I do have a high pain threshold. This doesn’t make it easy for Adam. I have still never cried from the physical pain of a spanking. It’s what it does to me, emotionally, that gets me. Adam always tells me that he gets no pleasure from seeing a bruise on my behind leftover from a spanking he’s given me. Having said that, I’m pretty certain that if I lie to him, or even “sidestep” the truth again, there’s a good chance I end up with an even worse looking butt the next day! I feel like, the next time I’m in trouble, I’ll probably start bawling before the first smack on my behind. I’m no longer afraid about what he might do. I’m afraid of what he will do.
Adam can get frustrated with me when I repeat the same mistakes that he’s asked me not to. Things he’s punished me for, Lord only knows, how many times. I’ve tried to explain myself to him. I’ve suggested that, it’s like someone asking you to never step forward with your left foot first. At first, you don’t even realize you’ve done it. Eventually, you get to a point where you can catch yourself, right after you’ve done it. Finally, you learn to make it part of your everyday life to always lead with your right foot. Only occasionally forgetting this. This is how I, genuinely, feel about things like “sidestepping the truth”. It’s just not an overnight fix. I feel that I’ve made big progress, though. I don’t do it to Adam but maybe a fraction of the times that I used to. I understand why he continues to call me out when I do it. I just want him to understand that I am trying to do better.
I had a realization, the other day. There are things that he does, that I have repeatedly asked him not to do. He is terrible about wearing his seatbelt. He drives on an interstate that has multiple accidents daily here. I need my husband to come home safe. Our kids need him to get home safe! I even get onto him about the example he’s setting for our kids. Our son is going to think it isn’t “manly” to wear his seatbelt. Neither of us want that to happen. Still, Adam almost never wears one. It dawned on me that thiswas a great example to throw back to Adam. A perfect way to show him how I feel, sometimes.
It worked like a charm! He’s been putting his seatbelt on and, when he forgets, he tells me about it. Now he has something that he is working to change in his daily life. It isn’t easy to remember not to forget every single time! I’m hoping that this will help him to see that I don’t screw up just because I feel like being an asshole. It happens without my realizing it, most always. Catching myself, and then confessing to him, are huge steps in the right direction. I’m not suggesting that he isn’t right to punish me. Really, I just hoped that he might be a little less discouraged when I mess up…again, and then again.
I didn’t get ANY good pictures, last night, at my Pop’s place. We usually have so much fun when we get together with our friends. Unfortunately, I was disappointed with the way last night turned out. I was good! Jackie had way too much to drink and got belligerent. I love her to death, but I cannot stand the stupid shit said and done when there’s too much alcohol involved. She treated a lot of people badly, including Adam. He never raises his voice to my friends, but he definitely put his “dad voice” on and told her “DROP IT, NOW”. I’m disappointed in her for the way she acted. To top it off, she got in her car and took off driving, at about 1:00 this morning. That makes me angry as hell. She hasn’t been home, yet. I know she’s okay, though, because she’s been active on social media. My sister has kept me updated.
Even before we started our evening, my dad sent me an email my “mother” had sent him.
The email was full of some hateful shit, like usual. But, we’re concerned she is going to do something that would really hurt my sister. My very pregnant and already over emotional sister. So, we’re trying to navigate this carefully, without involving my sister. She doesn’t need to worry or stress about some hypothetical bullshit our “mother” might do…
So, I’m kind of grumpy and sad, today. The only good news is, I did absolutely nothing to get myself into trouble! I did yell at Jackie, but Adam isn’t upset with me for it. I’m not going to pretend like I’ve never had too much to drink before, but it is just so frustrating trying to reason with an intoxicated person. You can’t do it. I get flashbacks to my mother and the way she would talk to us. The things she was willing to do to hurt us, while she was drunk and high. It isn’t easy not to completely lose my shit when that happens. All I wanted to do was to have a great night listening to and playing some guitars, and singing some songs with friends. 99/100 weekends with friends in Nashville are a blast. Every once in awhile, it just doesn’t work out like we planned. That was not my fault, this time. I don’t believe I have anything to apologize for.
My daughter drew a heart on my hand, last night. It occurred to me, I could get a heart tattooed on my hand exactly as she drew it. Then, I thought, I could have my son draw one next to it, so I have one from each. I think I might just do it! I never get a tattoo right after an idea. I have to let it sit for awhile and make sure there is no reason I might change my mind. I like the idea, a lot, though.
Adam is at work. Last night, he informed me that he would be wearing his belt when we go over to my Pops place. Told me I need to be able to see that reminder. He is well aware that, a few beers and a bunch of my friends, can sometimes spell trouble. What can I say? He’s not wrong. I had gotten a comment from someone about my post from yesterday, and I shared it with Adam, while he was still working.
The weather here has been so weird. It dropped down into the thirties all last week. Now, the LOWS are 50s and 60s, which is warmer than most the HIGHS from last week. I’m glad for it to be nicer! I got up this morning, and the house smelled like it does in the Spring. Just a few days ago, I cut our furnace on, and it smelled like Winter. Oh well. Not going to complain if it’s trending warmer. I hate the cold.
I have some errands to run, and the kitchen is a mess. Going to try to get everything I need to done, so I have plenty of time to get ready for tonight. I have every intention to have a great time with my husband and our friends and family. Nothing but good vibes, over here.
Yesterday, I was in the mood to bake. I made some apple crisp and baked some chocolate chip cookies. I’m like a “Suzy Homemaker”, apron and all. Except that, the music I have playing, in the kitchen, is Samson “What About Us”, followed by songs like ACAL “Gumbo” and “Hallelujah”….Not the 1950s housewives type of songs you’d hear 😆
Today is Friday! Adam works tomorrow, and then we’re going over to my Pops place for some barbecued ribs, and then, a fun guitar night outside with our friends. I’ve been looking so forward to it! My only worry, is that, nights like this, with a bunch of our friends, I tend to get extra sassy toward Adam. I don’t know why? I guess I’m just showing off because our friends see me as a “bad bitch”. As in, tough, bossy, tell it like I see it. They’re not wrong. I shouldn’t talk to Adam like that, though. He’s let it go, most always. Lately, though…I have a feeling that’s not going to happen. I’m going to try extra hard to be respectful to Adam. The last thing I want, is to get picked up and carried off to get a spanking! He never wants to embarrass me, but he also isn’t tolerating my bullshit, so I’m fairly certain he would do it. There’s generally a warning. He will tell me “keep it up”. This pretty much means, “fuck around and find out”. I’d rather not.
The weather here is looking like it’s going to be a gorgeous weekend. Here’s hoping it’s nothing but happy and fun for everybody!
I’m a little bit confusing, sometimes, even to myself. I’m just not one of those ladies who’s, very often, cool with saying “whatever you say, dear”. I’m very stubborn, hard headed, incredibly sassy. I’m actually pretty good at being funny. I make my family and friends laugh, a lot. They also know me as someone who ain’t afraid to tell ya what I think. I have no problem standing up for myself or the people that I love. I didn’t seek out a man like Adam. At least, not consciously? I never had to ask him to be who he is. He’s never asked me not to be who I am, either. He knows damn well how I roll! I think he’s attracted to it, most times. He’s never suggested that he wants to “change me”. He wants me to treat him the same way as I, honestly, want to treat him. It’s what I want when the rational, calm, reasonable, sane “me” is in charge of my thoughts and my actions.
In a way that’s difficult to explain in words, I think that I subconsciously want people to fear me. Like, I need them to know they can’t fuck with me. I will fight you, and I will win. That’s not to suggest that I haven’t lost any “fights”. That’s the point. If a dog growls and barks, most people are afraid and just stay the hell away from them. It often works to just appear intimidating. This is built into me. I defy anyone who tries to tell me to do something I don’t want to do. These things make it difficult for me to “allow” Adam to lead if I don’t feel like it. It truly isn’t because I think it’s funny to be an asshole. I don’t enjoy disappointing my husband. I might be even more proud of myself, when I do something right, that was hard for me, than Adam is! It takes a whole lot for me to “submit” to him, even in small ways, sometimes. I do want to! I love to make Adam feel good. Good about me, and especially about himself. He’s probably the most patient man I’ve ever known. Thank God, because I would frustrate the living hell out of most guys who expect a wife who follows their lead. That just ain’t me, always. Sometimes it is. I can be the things both Adam and I are looking for. I have to work so hard to get there, though. This is why I used the analogy about the bag of marbles and how, Adam pulls one out every time I screw up, and eventually, I’ll run out of marbles. Then what? Will he throw his hands up and say “she’s never going to get there”, and walk away? You’d think these fears would encourage me to stop screwing up! It’s just not that easy!
I truly do appreciate that he’s calling me out. I don’t always enjoy it, but I do appreciate it. There are times, just hours after he’s spanked me for something, I’ll fucking do it again, and I’m in my own head thinking “what the hell is wrong with you?!” I have to decide whether to be honest, which is very important to both of us, or whether it’s too dangerous to admit this screw up, now? I’m not going to pretend like I’m not afraid of what might happen to my behind, because I definitely am, but I’m also deeply afraid that he will be so disappointed, so frustrated, he will give up on me. If I hold a secret in, even one so stupid that it’s ridiculous, it eats away at me so bad. For reasons I don’t even understand, I’ll get angry. I’ll take it out on, of all people, Adam. Stupid? Yes. Logical? Nope. But, it’s what the hell I do!
I worry that maybe Adam will start to pay too much attention. Maybe he’ll start to see things in me that he can’t “fix”. I understand that I’m never going to be perfect. That’s impossible. I just worry that my imperfections will be so highlighted, he’ll think I’m too much. These are my thoughts when I have to tell him I did something that I know he isn’t going to be happy about. Well, I think about what he’s going to do, too. Like, how mad is he, really? Am I going to have to sleep on my stomach? Is he just trying to scare me, and my ass is fine? Did I fuck up so bad, that now he’s just done trying? He can assure me every five minutes that he won’t give up on me, and it still doesn’t seem to change this thought process for me. We were trying to figure out an approximate amount of times we’ve had sex, the other night. We guessed somewhere around 4,000 times. Even still, sometimes, I worry that he won’t find me attractive. So, by that logic, I may screw up and get 4,000 spankings and still be afraid he’s going to get tired of my bullshit!
I think I have made big improvements. I have brought so much more to Adam than I would’ve ever done, not too long ago. I do trust him. My gosh, I really do. Why can’t I trust that he won’t leave me the next time I screw up? That’s dumb. I know it. Logical, rational, sane me knows it. There’s this piece of me that I can’t quite seem to “fix”, or maybe “heal”?
I don’t know if I’ll ever stop doing the shit I do. My realistic goal, is to do it much less. Believe it or not, I am getting there. It’s kind of sad how much unacceptable crap I have been accustomed to doing, until recently. Adam is insisting that I don’t keep doing some of the things that I’ve literally always done. I can’t change, overnight. That doesn’t mean I’m not trying to do better. To be better. I am.
Adam and my text messages from Monday were not as light hearted and fun as they were yesterday!
Tuesday was a much better day.
I was in an ornery mood, yesterday afternoon. Then, last night, Jackie and I sat and watched a bunch of her old TikTok’s from game nights we had the last few years. When the weather gets cold, we will have a bunch of family and friends over and play games. Some of them are hilarious to play with a group. We love the shenanigans! We were having so much fun watching those, Adam finally had to come in and tell me it was time to go take our shower, because it was getting late. We always have good talks when we’re showering. I told Adam that, I sometimes feel afraid that I’m too much. Like, there’s a bag of marbles and, every time I get in trouble with him, one of them is taken out. Eventually, you run out of marbles. He assured me that was not the case. That he would never give up on me. He reminded me of how often I do things right, and that, I’m human, I’m going to fuck up. I needed to hear that.
Today, I’m heading to my sister’s house to help her work on my baby niece’s nursery. Miss PJ will be here in just a few weeks! My poor sister is so heavily pregnant and swollen and miserable. I went through a phase, a couple years ago, where I was really wanting to have another baby. Adam finally told me, “if you reallywant to, let’s do it”. Then, I panicked and told him, it’s much easier when you say no! I’m excited to have my baby niece close by. Now, I can get my “baby fix” without having to go through the hard stuff my sister is!
I know I already posted today, but I have to write about this…
Yesterday afternoon, Adam told me “don’t even think about hiding my belt”. I had already hidden it away. I replied “or what? You’re gonna spank me with the belt you can’t find?”
After he had spanked me (with his hand), he walked over by our laundry hamper and brought out another belt. At first, I asked “you found it??” Then, I could tell it wasn’t the belt because I saw the hook on it wasn’t the same. I let out a sigh of relief, until he informed me this one would hurt, too. He had it in his hand the entire time he sat in front of me, on the floor, talking. He did not spank me with it, thankfully. He did, however, make me give him back the belt. I didn’t spend anymore time wondering about it, until this morning. As I was taking our bedding off the bed so I could throw it in the wash, I looked on top of Adam’s dresser and noticed two belts. I remembered the one from last night. As I examined it, I realized it is actually THICKER and HEAVIER than the belt is! Now, I knew he used to have a worn out old one, but I thought we’d gotten rid of it. This one is neither worn out, nor old. I have no clue where Adam got it.
I always pay our bills on Fridays. This past Friday, though, I was busy packing and getting ready for our weekend trip. I’d decided to put that off until Monday. Yesterday morning, I opened my planner and started to pay bills that were due. I’ve never ever been late on anything before. Unfortunately, I hadn’t looked on Friday to see that our water and gas bill was due that day. Apparently, there is no grace period, either, because I got hit with a “late fee” of just over $20. I texted Adam and I told him the truth about it. He informed me that would earn me a spanking. I argued that I never do things like that, it wasn’t intentional! He didn’t back down. I told him that I didn’t keep it from him, even though I could’ve. I was honest with him. He said that he appreciated that, but I still needed to be held accountable. I said, I know, that’s what the stupid $20 late fee is!! He responded with a lecture about how I basically took a half an hour worth of his paycheck and “set it on fire”… I actually started to get angry. I didn’t feel he was being fair. I have to admit, I’m impressed with how calm Adam remained, despite my growing frustration being made known to him through various text messages. I ended with if you think you’re going to spank me when you get home, you’re out your mind. Angry “Eve” will come out! All he wrote back was lol, k. Hold my beer. “Hold my beer” basically means, “just watch me”.
When he got home, I was in the kitchen talking to Jackie and fixing supper. He gave us his usual hello and gave me a kiss on my forehead like he always does. I gave him some “side eye” to make sure it was clear that I was not giving in. We all sat at the table and ate supper. Then, Jackie sat in the kitchen with me while I was cleaning up and fixing Adam and the kids lunches for the next day. I hadn’t told her about any of this stuff between Adam and I, yet. Adam was hanging around, which he doesn’t typically do. This told me that, any minute now, he was going to tell me to go to our room with him. I tried to ignore him and pretended he wasn’t bothering me. Then, it happened. He grinned and said “step into my office, we need to talk”. This means, come to our bedroom with me, you’re getting a spanking. I did my best to look and sound stern, and I told him no. He started walking toward me and I sat down on the floor. I don’t know whyyy I do that sometimes, because I am very well aware that it does no good. Adam just scooped me up in his arms and threw me over his shoulder and brought me into our bedroom. I heard Jackie call out “WHAT DID YOU DOOO?!” I was too busy trying to escape my husband’s grip to respond, though. I really didn’t think it was fair to spank me. I’d told the truth. This was a first offense! I’ve never fought so hard to get out of a spanking before. Adam locked our door and put me down on the floor. I, once again, sat down. He started to try to talk to me about why he felt that I did deserve this. I wasn’t having it. I was being stubborn and I gave him attitude in every response. Finally, he just picked me up, off the floor, and bent me over our bed. I tried to crawl up and out from under his arm that was pinning me down. He began to spank me with his hand, which I did not appreciate, so I continued to give him attitude and sass. This didn’t help my situation. He pulled my leggings and panties down so now I didn’t even have those to cushion the swats landing on my behind. He was not spanking me with the kind of intensity that he had used when I had last “side stepped” the truth to him. He was, however, giving me a whole lot more swats a whole lot faster. This tends to hurt more, in the moment, and then it passes within hours. While those hard as hell ones leave a hurt that lasts for days. He was getting my attention. He knew when I’d finally submitted and given up fighting him. He still gave me a few more. When he relaxed his grip on me, I dropped to the floor. He sat down in front of me. He told me “look, I expect three things from you, always. Number one, respect. Number two, honesty. Number three, do your job taking care of things at home.” I had been honest. I had not done what I should’ve done at home, and I certainly had not been respectful after he’d called me out for it. I understood that. I really did. It was still difficult for me to admit that I deserved that spanking, though. Adam spent a long time talking with me, making certain that I truly understood the why of it all. Making sure that I had heard him, and his message had gotten through to me. I know he was frustrated with my defiance, but he’s so good at staying calm and even toned. He has a serious tone, the “dad voice”, but he isn’t yelling or cruel. After about an hour of this, I relented. I’d dropped the attitude right away following the spanking. I had held my position that I didn’t think it was fair to spank me for the late fee, though. He repeated his reasoning over to me until I couldn’t argue it any longer. I gave in. He “won”. He told me he was fair. Told me that he hadn’t spanked me that hard, and that my attitude should’ve gotten me much worse than he gave me. This, I can’t argue with.
Things were good the rest of the evening. I came back out to the kitchen and texted Jackie to come up and have a beer with me. She brought up 2 beers from the garage fridge and we sat and talked awhile. I explained why I’d been in trouble. Funny enough, she actually understood Adam’s position better than she does most times I wind up in trouble! She’s always sympathetic with me and my point of view, but she didn’t think he was wrong for feeling the way he did. When we’d finished, she went down to her apartment and Adam and I went to take our shower. We talked even more. I think it was hard for Adam to have to discipline me while I so strongly disagreed about deserving it. He needed to know that I was no longer resisting his reasoning. I wasn’t. We had some great “make up sex” and went to bed.
This morning, I was showing Adam that the house was only 61 degrees when I’d woken up. The heat came on!
Adam, the kids, and I left Friday afternoon for our visit to his Mom’s house. We made it in just about 9 hours, which is pretty good considering interstate traffic don’t always like to cooperate. We got there in the middle of the night and got a few hours sleep. We spent Saturday with his mom, his two brothers, and our niece and nephew, who are our kids age. The kids are all very close and talk nearly everyday on FaceTime or one of their online games they’ll play. When we get together, they always have a blast! Everyone is scattered in different states, so it’s not very often that we get to see Adam’s whole family all together.
The trip home went smooth as the trip there, except my behind was much more comfortable on the way home. There’s still some remnants of the bruise I’d been given along my right hip and thigh. I was so ready to be back home by the time we finally pulled into our driveway! We had a great time with Adam’s family, but I was done sitting in a box on wheels, weaving in and out of traffic. I don’t know how Adam does that everyday?!
It wasn’t easy to pry my eyes open and force myself to get up out of bed when my alarm woke me up, this morning. It’s back to work and school. I might even go turn on the TV and lay on the couch for awhile!
Thursday evening, Adam text me that he was dropping something our friend needed off at his house and then would be heading home. An hour later, I text him and asked if he was heading home yet? Nothing. I sent 2 more texts with no response and finally called his phone. It went to voicemail. I called Biscuit and he answered. I asked him if Adam had been there yet? Adam got on the phone and teased me by saying “no”, but I recognized his voice and I told him “you bastard!” About five minutes passed and my phone started to ring. It was Adam, calling from his phone. I hit the ignore button. He text me that wasn’t nice. I waited exactly twenty minutes before I replied. We had a bit of back and forth.
I guess Biscuit got to talking and Adam had left his phone in his truck. Still!!! If I’d done that exact same thing to him, he would be upset with me. Truth be told, I was upset. I wasn’t so angry that I had lost complete control of my temper or anything, though. I decided I was going to “push it” a little bit. Just to see. He knew he’d done screwed up. How far can I take this, I wondered?
When Adam finally came in the door, it was after 7:00pm. The kids and I had already finished supper. I left it out for him and he fixed himself a plate. I could tell he was feeling guilty. He didn’t walk in with that typical confidence he carries when he knows he’s right. I walked over to him and put my hands on my hips while I lectured him about making me worry that something had happened. Ever since that day his phone got smashed, I’ve had a panic rise up inside of me when I know he should be able to respond. I expected him home long before he made it in. I wouldn’t have been upset had he just brought his phone with him, answered me, and explained that Biscuit was asking for his help fixing a car he’s working on. Adam admitted that he should’ve watched the time and known I’d be starting to worry. He admitted he should’ve had his phone on him and let me know. Then, he lectured me for ignoring him and for refusing to say I love you back to him. He went into our bedroom and came back out carrying the belt in his hand. The kids were outside playing. Jackie wasn’t home. It was just us in the living room. I argued that wasn’t fair! He handed it to me and told me to “give it my best shot” and then it was his turn. I swung and smacked him across his butt as hard as I could. I get no satisfaction, though. He never even winces. He took the belt from me and gave me a couple smacks across my bottom. It was lighthearted.
A little later, we were getting ready to get in the shower, and Jackie had text me. I opened my phone. Adam saw where I’d text her earlier “he’s still in suck up mode. Not sure how long I should play this out lol”. Adam wasn’t very happy about that. He felt like I was just being a brat and, as he put it, trying to break the ground he stands on and feeling like, for the most part, I succeeded. He brought his belt back out from our closet and gave me a couple of hard smacks across my bare behind. I woke up this morning with a bruise across my behind and upper thigh that matches the width of that belt. It isn’t a terrible bad bruise. But it’s obvious where it came from! Now, I have to sit in the car for 8-9 hours while we drive to his mom’s house for the weekend…
I’m not in my early thirties, anymore. Someone told me that I “looked like a Barbie doll”, the other day. When I was in my teens and twenties, I heard things like that. It’s been awhile, though.
Most days, I put some effort into how I look. I very rarely wear just a t-shirt or sweatpants. I think I own maybe three to five t-shirts. Most of my wardrobe is tank tops, or crop tops/tank tops with a sweater or plaid shirt over. I have a ridiculous amount of blue jeans in my closet. I might have a problem with hoarding blue jeans. I wear black leggings often, too. I also love jackets. Any and all jackets. I’ve never bought a purse. Ever. All of the ones I’ve had I got as gifts from family or friends. I couldn’t care less about those. Unless it’s the Louis Vuitton. I am a little bit crazy about that one. I have had the same pair of sneakers since…gosh? Probably since my daughter was a baby. I have a whole lot of boots, heels, and sandals. I do like to look nice. I mostly put in effort for Adam, though. I don’t really care that much anymore about what anyone else thinks. I wanted to cut my hair to just below my shoulders and Adam made a face. I didn’t end up cutting my hair. After our wedding, I donated 14 inches of my hair to a wig charity for children and women with cancer. My hair was just at my shoulders for awhile, after that. I think that’s the only time I’ve had “short” hair. I guess I’ve grown up. I hadn’t really thought much about it, until I got called “Barbie”. It’s always nice to have someone compliment you, I just don’t live to impress anyone other than Adam. I mentioned to him that I’d discussed Botox with someone and he told me “absolutely not!” He doesn’t think I need it. So, I told him I was going to do it and see if he noticed. He assured me that he would notice. I told him that I, clearly, needed it then! It’s not because I feel the need to impress other men or women. It’s because I can see myself changing everyday, when I look in the mirror. I want Adam to always think I’m beautiful. I’m very afraid to get old. My kids already think I’m old! Hell, twenty year old me would’ve called me old now. Maybe it’s vain of me?
It’s deeper than just superficial outer beauty that I’m afraid to lose with age. Yes, that scares me, but my mother, and her mother let themselves go. It was almost as if they wanted to be old women. They gained weight. Stopped trying. They spent most of their time “doctor shopping”, looking for whatever drugs they could get prescribed. I can still do my moves from cheerleading in high school! One handed cartwheels, handstands. I can go outside and jump on the trampoline with the kids. I can keep up with them at the park. I don’t groan and struggle everyday when I get out of bed. I’m not up all night because something hurts. I’m horny almost all the time! Our friends can’t believe how much sex Adam and I have. I’m terrified to lose these things. I don’t want my body to go to hell. I don’t want to let my mind deteriorate. As the age or forty looms where I can see it coming, my fears grow. I don’t want to be a plastic, fake, “real housewives” looking bimbo. I only wish I could know what my future looks like. Will Adam still think I’m pretty in 10, 20, 30 years? Will my kids have kids that I can still play out in the yard with? What if I turn into a burden for my family? My greatest fear is to be like my mother, and her mother. My hope, is that I can be like my dad, and his side of my family. My grandma, his mom, is still beautiful. She never acts “old”. She still gardens, paints, loves to cook and bake. She lives at the same home my dad and his siblings were raised in. She’s so tough, and she’s had her share of heartache. She has, around, 25 great grandchildren, and my sister’s about to give her another! My dad just turned 60 years old. He’s in great shape. He’s healthy. He’s active. He’s still nowhere near ready to retire and sit in a rocking chair waiting to die. Please, God, let me be like that!