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When he falls off his horse

Adam is strong, smart, handsome, generous, and very rarely overtaken by his emotions. I can only think of one life event that brought him to tears in the 12 years we’ve been together. His dad had battled cancer when Adam was in college. He won that battle and remained cancer free right up to the five year mark, and then it came back. It came back with a vengeance. I remember the night his parents asked us all over and his dad rocked nervously in his favorite chair as he did his best to hold back the tears while he explained to us that the prognosis was not good. His dad was dying. Only five short months later, we sat around Adam’s dad in a hospital bed and watched him take his last breath. It was just after 5:00am when we left the hospital. After we got home, Adam went to take a shower and I knew he just needed to be alone for a few minutes. About half an hour later, he re-emerged with bloodshot eyes. It was obvious that he’d been crying. Now, I absolutely do not subscribe to the notion that boys/men should not show emotion. I think it’s unfortunate that we have spent so long teaching little boys that to cry is to show weakness and that it’s a “girly” thing to do. Having said that, I also know that men generally don’t share their feelings in the same way we women do. Men don’t think like we do. Adam is a man. He takes care of business. He is my knight in shining armor ever ready to slay the dragons and save me. Occasionally, even knights fall off their horses, though. Life is hard whether you’re a man, woman, both, or neither. As humans, we all have times in life where we need someone to comfort us and to help us back up after we’ve been knocked down. Even tough guys need help sometimes. I love Adam so deeply. I rely heavily on his ability to be the predictable and stable and responsible man he is. When I saw his heartbreak, his pain that morning, I went into “mama bear” mode. I was the protector. I was the rock for awhile. I laid in bed with Adam and ran my fingers through his hair while more silent tears fell. I understood the hurt and frustration that comes from not being able to fix it. Adam is the fixer, the protector, the calm in every storm. I am absolutely willing and able to step up and be those things for him in those moments when he needs me to. I can be strong and brave. I can hold back my own emotions so that I can be there for him when he needs me more than I need him. I can pick him back up, dust him off, and help him back onto his horse and then Adam can carry on being my knight in shining armor.

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Update

I wrote about my cousin who’s an alcoholic and in the hospital not doing well last week. He’s hung on through the week, but he’s a long way from being well yet. They’ve been taking him through detox and pumping his body full of antibiotics trying to kill the infection riddled throughout his body. He’s developed a high fever since last night and the doctors have decided they are going to do the lung surgery on him tomorrow morning. They feel they need to clean out his lungs and that’s where the infection is lingering now. It’s scary, because they initially have said that his body is too weak and sick so surgery wasn’t an option until he was stronger. He isn’t getting stronger, but at this point, they feel the risk of surgery is better than doing what they’ve been doing because he isn’t getting better. My mom has flown out there to be with her sister and my cousin (mom’s nephew). I’m so glad she’s able to be there for this because tomorrow and the following hours are going to determine his future, or whether he will have one. There’s a song by Brantley Gilbert called “Just as I am”. I asked my mom to play it for him because it happened to play this morning while I was cleaning with music playing and I was singing along when, all of the sudden, I sang the words “ya know most folks don’t understand, that I’m talking ’bout pouring out my best friend”, my voice cracked and the tears started to pour. I don’t want him to die, but I also don’t want him to live one more day as a drunk either. I want him to get sober and healthy. I want his son to know his dad as the man he is underneath the addiction. I don’t know if my cousin can do it, but I’m praying for God to give him strength to turn this around. I do believe miracles happen all around us everyday. None of us deserve the blessings we get, but we’re saved by grace anyway. He doesn’t deserve a miracle, but I’m asking for one anyway.

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Trouble squared (part II)

I always do my best to time supper so that it’s just about ready when Adam gets home from work. He can get home anytime between 5:30 to 8:00pm, so I’ve learned over the years how to time meals out just right so the food is hot and fresh for him and we can all eat together at the table. We had extra kids over, so the house was noisy and chaotic when Adam got home and I was getting all the kids plates of food dished out. We sat down, said our dinner prayer, and enjoyed our meal. Adam has this thing he’s always done when I’m rinsing the dishes at the sink he comes up behind me, pats my butt, and then reaches his arms around me and gives me a hug and a kiss and thanks me for a good supper. I chose that moment to announce that I had something I had to tell him. We also have a thing between us when it comes to sharing something that makes me nervous or that I know is likely to upset him. We shower together every evening, and that is when we talk about everything on our minds. There’s something about being naked in front of one another. We’re vulnerable and we can’t walk away if we get angry. We have had many a heated discussion standing in the shower together! I knew he wouldn’t be happy about the whole electric bill situation, but I also knew it wasn’t the kind of thing that would cause an argument or make him seriously angry with me.

A few hours later, I told Adam “let’s go take our shower.” He laughed and said I must be excited to get my spankin’ over with. He didn’t yet know what had happened, just that something had. It was finally time to fess up and I felt a little bit nervous all the sudden. I began with “you know how stressed out I was a few weeks ago? And you know I usually do a great job making sure I take care of things at home?” At that point, he probably thought I was about to drop a serious bomb on him because he looked really worried. I told him all about what had happened, but I wasn’t planning to mention the extra fees we had to pay until Adam asked about how much more it cost us. How did he know about that?! He had a serious look on his face at first, but then he grinned a slight little half grin that tells me he’s not too upset. He pulled me close to him and then brought his hand down hard on my behind. I yelped and he announced I had 5 more just like that coming. His hands can touch me in so many different ways. They’re gentle and reassuring. They give a great back massage. They hold me close and make me feel protected from the world. They can also feel hard as a block of wood. His hands were blocks of wood last night. When he finished, he asked me what I’d learned and y’know what I told him??? I told him I’d learned that he has shitty aim because he got my back twice! (He didn’t really get my back, but he typically spanks lower where I’ve got more padding.) This is the reason I titled this blog post, “Trouble squared”. I just had to say something snarky, which landed me in much deeper water. The truth is, Adam laughs at my silliness. He loves me and all my sassy southern ways. He isn’t trying to change me or anything. He has randomly slapped my behind probably 20 times over the last couple of days just to ask if his aim was better that time, but if I ever did or said something that made him truly angry with me, he would never lay a hand on me. This is our thing. Occasionally, there is a more serious message behind the discipline Adam is giving me. This time, the message was “please don’t screw up my credit because you haven’t paid a bill” and that IS something to take seriously. As for my sarcastic response, though, that did not mean that I wasn’t appreciating that I had done something stupid and this was on the more serious side of punishment rather than mostly playful. I did understand that and I did feel bad. Adam knew I felt terrible and that I don’t regularly ignore our bills. I say silly things to lighten the mood sometimes. I sometimes get sarcastic when I’m nervous. For Adam and I, my remark wasn’t meant or taken as blatant disrespect. I did get a much more sore rear end for it, but not because Adam was genuinely angry with me. I never have to be afraid to say something to him. I never have fear in those rare instances when he is truly angry. I know that he would never put his hands on me in anger, even with DD in our marriage. Once things have calmed down, discipline absolutely happens! But, I wanted to make it abundantly clear that he did not and would not spank me if he was really truly mad at something I’d done or said. My butt was sore the next morning, and again last night, but my spirit is not ever bruised or beaten by Adam.

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Trouble squared

Yesterday morning, about 8:00, our power cut off. I didn’t think too much of it at first because they’ve been blasting nearby and it’s been briefly cutting off and then back on again. After about 10 minutes had passed, I got more concerned. I called the electric company to report our outage and was notified via automated voice that the reason our lights were out was because the light bill wasn’t paid! I promptly pushed zero a bunch of times so I could reach an actual human because I knew I had mailed in a check toward the end of July and I was ready to let the incompetent fools have it. They don’t play around here. If your bill isn’t paid by the next months meter reading, they’ll cut ya off, so I’ve always made sure I got a check in on time. As I was waiting for the human I planned to give a piece of my mind, I opened my bill planner notebook to look up exactly when I’d mailed in the check. As I flipped through the pages, an envelope stamped and addressed to the power company fell out… I would have sworn I’d mailed that! I could’ve passed a lie detector I was so sure of it. Clearly, I had not, in fact, put a check in the mail. Mercifully, the elevator music playing through my phone was still going and nobody had answered my call yet. After a couple of minutes, a nice lady answered and I explained my situation. I was thoroughly embarrassed. We’ve never had a utility cut off for non payment before. I have always done a good job staying on top of our bills and payments. Adam also knows when everything is due and often double checks that everything’s taken care of each week. Our system always worked well, until yesterday. I paid the bill over the phone which cost an extra $2.50 for the convenience of using their automated phone pay system plus an extra $37 “reconnect fee”. This was an expensive mistake! I was dreading the evening when Adam would come home and I’d have to tell him. I briefly considered keeping my screw up a secret, but I’m a shitty liar and the guilt always gets to me anyway. It wasn’t punishment I was afraid of. I was ashamed and worried that Adam wouldn’t trust me to take care of our finances anymore. I knew that I had let him down, even if it wasn’t a purposeful mistake. Had I been paying attention, I get bank notifications for every debit and credit on our account and that check should’ve gone through within a couple days of mailing the check.

I have to take my daughter to her bus stop, and this blog is long enough already, so I’m going to end on a cliffhanger and I’ll post a part 2 later today. I called this blog “trouble squared” because had I not chosen to open my great big sassy mouth while Adam was lecturing me, I’d have gotten off relatively easy. Instead, I thought it was a good time to be a smart ass.

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Just say NO

I have a friend who’s struggling financially right now. She has 2 small girls and decided she could babysit for some extra cash. She ended up getting a phone call from a mom looking for daycare tomorrow and Friday. The only problem for my friend, is that her house is getting new floors put in and she was embarrassed to have this mom bring the kid over to meet her at her messy, torn up house. Knowing that I keep my house clean and organized, she called me and asked if they could meet over here and she could just babysit tomorrow and Friday at MY house. I was immediately telling myself no way, absolutely not, huh uh! Instead of saying any of those things, I said “sure!” What the hell is wrong with me???

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It wasn’t me

This afternoon, some of our neighbors right behind us were having a birthday party for their daughter. There was a bouncy house and pool party and at least 30 kids were there. The adults were outnumbered by quite a bit. I think there were about 10 of us. We live in the south. We’re all at least a little bit “redneck” in my neighborhood, so of course there were adult drinks being served. Maybe y’all have adult beverages at kids birthday parties in other parts of the country/world too, I’m not really sure? I wouldn’t even think of going overboard and getting sloshed at a kid’s birthday party, though. The mom of the kid having the birthday party (I’ll call her L) had a lot too much today. It was pretty embarrassing to be honest. I like L. She’s a fun girl and I know she loves her kids, but she didn’t use her mom brain today at all. She had disappeared inside and I heard some yelling. Next thing I knew, someone else was calling for L’s husband, J, to get inside right away. I kept my butt firmly planted where I was because I was absolutely not getting involved in whatever drama was taking place inside!! I heard some more yelling from L and then it got quiet. A few minutes later, J re-emerged outside. Of course, everyone wanted to know what happened and J casually tells us “I busted her butt. I told her if she didn’t settle down I was gonna bust her butt, and she wouldn’t listen.” Bust your butt here means give someone a spanking. It’s said to kids often. Apparently, L was getting into a heated argument with another person who was inside with her and she was slamming cupboards and throwing things on the floor like a lunatic. Literally no one at the party batted an eye when J told us what he’d done. I was considering sneaking inside to check on L and honestly, I wanted to be nosy and find out what had her so upset in the first place, but Adam grabbed my hand, pulled me back to him, and whispered in my ear, “if you take one step inside there I’ll come bust your ass too.”

So, this was my afternoon! I can’t even imagine how angry Adam would’ve been if I acted like L did today. She is about ten years younger than I am, so I suppose she’s still learning to adult. Her husband is 14 years older than her, so he’s also more settled down and mature. I have heard J make little comments to L about putting her over his knee. Heck, he even said it to me once not long ago (jokingly). I had no idea until today that he was ever serious about his threats to her though. How crazy is it that I actually know people in my real life who are like Adam and I?! Also, how crazy is it that not one single adult there thought anything of it when J announced her just gone inside and spanked his wife? I feel like y’all are going to think I’m telling stories here. Cross my heart, it’s 100% truth! I didn’t get a chance to talk to L alone after all that. I’m still dying to know what the world made her so angry in the first place. If I find out anything else worth reporting here, I’ll update tomorrow. As for me, I am able to sit comfortably tonight because I wasn’t about to get my butt whooped at a neighbor’s party.

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“Dad bods”

Adam played football in college. When we first met, he was ripped. I’m not going to pretend like I didn’t notice or enjoy that, but his body truly wasn’t what attracted me to him at the time. Muscle-y jocks are a dime a dozen when you’re in your 20s. He had packed on a few pounds over the years and had a bit of a gut poking out. I wasn’t any less attracted to him for it. In fact, I grow more crazy about my husband each passing year. However, he has recently lost nearly 40 pounds. He’s been eating better and getting more exercise in. The weight literally seemed to have melted off of him overnight. I suppose we don’t notice small changes over a period of time as easily. This morning, though, I was up before Adam (a rare occasion). I decided to get his coffee started for him and I was just switching it on when he came around the corner into the kitchen. He had teal and blue basketball shorts on and nothing else. His hair was messy, but in a good way. In that moment, watching him walk into the kitchen, I really noticed him. I saw his newly returned washboard abs and broad shoulders. My eyes wandered to my absolute favorite part of a man’s body, their hip bones where they stick out just above their pants in front. My panties are getting wet again just thinking about him. As Adam strode over and gave me a good morning kiss and squeezed my ass, I felt like the luckiest, most happy girl in the world. That sexy man is all mine! I may have to send the kids out to play this evening because I don’t think I can wait until their bedtime to get him back inside me.

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What it’s like

My aunt and uncle were supposed to be here today for a fun visit. Their world has been thrown into chaos instead, and my heart is breaking for them. Their oldest son is 39 years old and has been a severe alcoholic his entire adult life. We’ve all seen the toll it’s taken on his mind and body. We’ve known this day would come sooner than later. Even so, it’s hard to accept that day has arrived. He was taken by ambulance to the hospital last night and immediately put into intensive care. He is in a coma and likely has brain damage. The doctors say if he makes it through the next few days, he will need to be transferred to another hospital for a serious lung operation. It’s not looking good. I know that he’s done this to himself, but this man, my cousin who is such a big part of my childhood memories, is a good soul. He’d never hurt a flea. He has a huge heart and is always so thoughtful and kind. He has a son he loves dearly. But, he has had an addiction to alcohol that has done irreparable damage to his body over the years. It’s caught up to him, and he’s suffering the brutal consequences. His poor parents are beside themselves. I just can’t imagine what it must be like to lose a child. No matter how grown they get, they’re still your child. Life isn’t supposed to work that way. Parents aren’t supposed to have to bury their children. My heart is heavy this afternoon.

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Hump day

Last week, when I was in the doctor’s office for my leg injury, he asked me the question I always dread to answer. “Do you smoke?” The answer is (was) yes. I started smoking a few years ago. A nasty stupid habit to pick up and I don’t know why I ever decided it was a good idea. Like every drug addict ever says, you think you will be the one who can just do it for fun every once in awhile. I won’t get hooked on that, I told myself. Of course, that was a lie. So, I told the doc the truth and he asked if I wanted help to quit. I absolutely hate the way antidepressants make me feel. I told him I did not want to take anything like that. He had another idea for me, though. He told me to go buy a vape pen and don’t ever buy another pack of cigarettes. He said the next time I’m there to see him, then he’ll start giving me heck about how much nicotine I’m using, but for now, try the vape pen. I was extremely skeptical. I really thought I’d hate it and just keep on smoking, but I was willing to give it a good try. My mom got so excited when I told her what I was going to do, she drove over and picked me up and took me to the vape store and bought the pen and the nicotine stuff for me! Now I knew I really had to give it a good try because I didn’t want my mom to waste her money or to be disappointed in me. I didn’t even tell Adam what I was doing right away. I am happy to report, I have not smoked a single cigarette since last Wednesday! A whole week!! I call my vape pen my “binky” (that was our daughter’s name for her pacifier as a toddler). It’s shocking even to me that I’ve been able to do this! Adam is so proud of me and it makes me feel so good.

I’ve been almost too well behaved lately. Adam has had no good reason to spank me or anything. I’m almost considering finding a way to cross the line, just a little bit. I’m craving his touch. I want to feel him on me, in me. We finally got to have sex last night, but it seems it only made me want him even more. We’re both still recovering from our trip last weekend too, so I’m sure Adam will be able to quench my “thirst” for him once he’s caught up on his sleep and his work settles down a bit. He’s always super busy after he’s been off for a few days.

Today’s been a good day overall. I helped my mom clean her house and get it ready for company coming tomorrow. Her sister and brother in law (my favorite aunt and uncle) are coming to visit. It’s been over a year since I’ve seen them, so I’m excited they’re coming. We have church this evening. We’ve missed the last couple of Wednesdays. I’ve missed it, actually. Church always helps me to refocus and center myself again. I leave feeling like my “batteries” got recharged. Speaking of recharging my batteries, I’m in need of some caffeine. Despite the 91 degree heat outside, I’m going to go make myself some hot tea. I’ve got about an hour until my kids will be home from school. Maybe I can sit and enjoy my tea while I fold the rest of this laundry.

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So RUDE!

I’m not great at confrontation. I will put up with a lot from family, friends, even strangers just to avoid causing any upset. I mentally check out when someone is yelling at me. As much as I hate admitting this, insults and assumptions people make about me can really get to me. I’d like to be the kind of person who can shake it off and not be bothered by the things other people say or think about me. Unfortunately, my feelings are easily hurt when I’m offended.

In a conversation with some women I met recently, we were discussing what everyone does for a living. When it came my turn to say, I told them I’m a wife and mom, a homemaker. One of them asked me how old my youngest child is and I told her, eight. She was confused, almost annoyed when she heard that. She wanted to know why I’m not working since my youngest is school aged. I was put in a tough spot because these are all working women. Some of them are parents, too. I would never want to offend any mother for her choices when it comes to her career or how she’s best taking care of her family. The truth is, I genuinely believe that a lot of the problems our children struggle with today are closely linked to having absent parents. So many kids leave for school by themselves and return home by themselves. Very few families that I know regularly have supper at the table together. When I am taking my kids to a game or a recital, I am always asked to give a handful of other children a ride whose parents aren’t able to make it. I absolutely understand that there are parents out there who are working just to provide the most basic essentials for their children. They would love to be at their daughter’s recital, but don’t have the luxury of that option. I have so much respect for single parents who are doing everything they can to give their children a better life. I do not fault families for their circumstances in life that force us all to make tough decisions. I know I’m blessed to have a husband who is willing and able to support our family on only his income. I appreciate all of the things I’m able to do with and for our kids and the sacrifices he makes that make that possible. I’m not sitting at home watching soap operas all day though. I’m volunteering at a women’s crisis center. I’m at school eating lunch with my kids or helping out in their classrooms. I’m helping my sick mom. Cleaning her house, taking her to and from doctor appointments. I’m doing our laundry, grocery shopping, scrubbing floors and bathrooms and walls and doors. I’m making my family breakfast, lunch, and supper everyday. I’m carpooling to and from my children’s various extra curricular activities. I’m standing at the bus stop with my kids in the morning and waiting there for them in the afternoon when they come back home. I’m making them snacks for after school. I’m scheduling and taking them in for haircuts, dentist appointments, doctor check ups. I’m up with a sick kid at 2am holding their hair back and cleaning up vomit. I’m the splinter getter outer. I’m the referee. I’m the always available hug when they need one.

Since I was a small child myself, I’ve wanted to be a wife and a mother. These years with them are so precious and fleeting. I spend everyday trying to soak up all of the moments that won’t last. I’m not lazy, unwilling, or unable to get a job. One of the women even made a point to tell me “everyone’s hiring right now”. Lady, kindly fuck off please.

Whether you’re a working or a stay at home mom, you’re awesome in my eyes as long as you’re doing what you feel is right and best for your family. And to the women out there like my grandma, who spent her whole life being a homemaker long before and after her children, you rock too. Don’t let ignorant people get you down like I did. They got to me with their rude comments. I walked away feeling worth less than I know I am. I felt like a failure of a woman or something. Instead of standing up for myself like I should have, I let them say their opinions about me and left the conversation feeling vulnerable and hurt. Why do women do this to each other so often? I’m sure they’re out there, but I’ve never had a man say nasty things about me being a homemaker/stay at home mom. It’s always been other women with big mouths sharing their big opinions.

Anyway, I’ll stop ranting now.

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Busy busy busy

We had a great time visiting Adam’s family in Kansas last weekend. We went to a tractor pull and got our redneck on. We got back home Sunday night around midnight and then had to be up at 4:15am for an early morning appointment downtown. The appointment went the best it could have! She is officially in remission!!!

Today, we are finishing up school shopping and my daughter needs one immunization that we’re currently in the waiting room for. My injured calf is doing great, too! I’m already back to walking almost normally again. I’ve been on a sort of emotional rollercoaster lately, and I’m very excited to finally be getting off of it. The stress of everything piling up and nothing going as expected had been taking a heavy toll on me. It appears we are finding our way back to our normal again. Poor Adam was exhausted last night, so I didn’t get to spend much time with him. By the time I got home from all the stuff I’d had to do yesterday, it was almost 8:00pm and he’d already gone to bed and then he left before I got up this morning. It’s literally been almost a week since Adam and I had sex, which is almost totally unheard of for us. With everything going on, injuries, stress, being at his mom’s house with our kids in the same room…I think we’re both looking forward to bedtime tonight! I’m excited for the possibility of being able to share something more interesting than the hum drum, mundane details of my domestic life. I’ll report back as soon as there’s something to share 😉

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Summer’s end

We’re leaving tomorrow evening for the Midwest. Adam’s mom lives out in the middle of nowhere in a town smaller than our culdesac. Think oz, as in Wizard of Oz. Small town Kansas. It’s our last trip of summer before our kids start school and the chaos begins again. I have so enjoyed having my kiddos all to myself this summer. I always feel a twinge if sadness when they start back to school because I lose them a little more each year. They have their friends to play with, they ask their teachers what the moon is made of, they don’t need their mama as much. My kids are 8 and 10 years old. I know every parent says it, but I really do have great kids. They’re kind, polite, respectful, helpful, sweet as can be. I get told regularly how well behaved my kids are. Watching them grow is such a bittersweet privilege. I’m blessed to be their mama and it’s amazing seeing the kind of individual people they’re becoming. I sometimes wish I could keep them little just a little longer.

I’m nervous to make this trip with my leg out of commission. A 12 hour car ride is going to be miserable I think. Wish me luck y’all, I’m probably going to need it! The one positive this injury has given me, is that Adam is babying the heck out of me. He just got back home from the store to get me some mint chocolate chip ice cream I was craving. He came home from work and cooked us all supper too. I do miss his playful smacks on my bottom and our typical back and forth with tickles and any excuse to touch each other. He’s afraid to hurt me, so of course he’s not picking on me right now. Last night, he even shaved my legs for me and he painted my toenails! My son keeps asking me “Are you okay mama? Can I get something for you?” And my daughter played with my hair and laid next to me on the couch for hours today. I truly have the best family a girl could ask for ❤️

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Grumpy

Last night, my leg swelled way up and I was in so much pain I wanted to cry. I had to crawl into the kitchen to get some Aleve and an ice pack because I couldn’t put any weight at all on my leg anymore. Adam woke up when I came back to bed and saw me sitting up holding my leg. He wanted to take me to the hospital but I said heck no, we don’t need an ER bill! I put on a brave face and waited until morning to go visit my doc. It appears, I overdid it yesterday and caused a mild to moderate tear in my calf muscle to become a severe tear. I’m told now I will be off that leg for 6 weeks and have to use crutches. Adam’s been very sweet taking care of me and I know he was really worried for me. I’m not usually a baby. I actually have a pretty darned high pain tolerance. I’m so angry with myself for making it worse. I was feeling pretty good yesterday morning so I figured I’d get some housework done, but that was obviously a mistake. So, I’m sitting here with ice under my leg that’s propped up on the couch, a little dopey from pain medication, feeling pissed off that this happened and cursing my body for doing this to me.

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Strict orders

Well y’all, I was right. I went and got the stinkin’ ultrasound done and no blood clot. I do however, seem to have a pretty bad tear and was told I needed to take it easy for the next few weeks. Ugh. This afternoon, I swept and mopped and vacuumed and cleaned the bathrooms and wiped down the window in the storm door. I got 3 loads of laundry done as well. In my defense, this was all done before I went up to the hospital for the ultrasound. I’m hurting pretty bad right now, though. Not only has the doctor suggested I take it easy, but Adam has given me strict instructions to sit in the recliner with my leg iced. This sucks. It’s the last week of summer before school starts and my babies leave me. I wonder if it would be okay to take the kids swimming? Hmm? Maybe there’s something we can do at least. I’ll lose my mind if I have to stay in this chair for too long.

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For Mrs Mcdaddy :)

I wanted to post a picture of my dog, Scrappy in the comments, but it won’t let me do that. This was my handsome fur baby who I got long before I had any kids. He was with me through both of their births and a miscarriage. He got me through the best and worst of times for all 13 years I was blessed to have him here with me ❤️ He had just gotten a haircut in this picture, but his hair was usually about like your dog, Ruffi’s.

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TTWD

TTWD, This Thing We Do, is sort of an all inclusive term for couples who incorporate any kind of “kink” into their lives. At least, that’s what I’ve understood it to mean anyway. I’ve been thinking, aren’t we all a little bit kinky? Who doesn’t have a fantasy or fetish? There are so many different things people can be into. From the common ones like playing “naughty nurse” or dressing in a sexy French maid’s uniform, to foot fetishes and beyond. I’m certainly not one to judge others for their own kinks, whatever they may be. It is rather annoying how judgmental some folks are about what other consenting couples are doing. I’ve received zero criticism for anything I’ve blogged here, and I’m grateful for that. However, I have seen plenty of online conversations where others have chimed in with their holier than thou attitudes concerning other couples and their turn ons. I feel genuinely sorry for those people because their sex lives must be absolutely bland or non existent. Now I’m not suggesting that we can’t share our own preferences or talk about why something others are into just isn’t your flavor. I’m talking about the buzz kills who do their best to shame and belittle people for opening up about what they’re into. Clearly, I like to discuss my own take on incorporating DD and a little BSDM into Adam and my relationship. I expect there to be very few (if any) folks who always agree with how I like to do things. That’s okay! I subscribe to and read a lot of other couple’s stories about their lives. Just because I’m not into all of the same things they are, that doesn’t mean I don’t find enough in common to find their writing interesting. Do I find some things to be a little weird? Sure. Feet gross me the hell out! You’ll never hear about me sucking someone’s nasty toes. To each their own though. We’re all a little weird, aren’t we?

To all my fellow kinksters in blog land, don’t worry about what other people think. Share your thoughts and don’t be afraid to talk about your secret fantasies. I have a theory that the people claiming to be the most horrified by our openness about what heats us up, are actually just really frustrated with their own inability to admit they’re kinky too. I mean, why else would they be reading your blog?

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Life & Stuff

I’m a runner. I also love to go to the gym and do weight training. On Friday, I pulled a muscle in my calf, but rather than taking it easy, I overdid it through the weekend. By Sunday night, I was laying on the couch with ice under my leg that was feeling like it was literally on fire. After a restless and painful night, Adam insisted that I needed to have a doctor look at it. I could hardly walk and my calf was terribly swollen. So, I begrudgingly went into see the doctor. After a 2 hour wait to see him, I was finally taken back and given a 30 second examination after which he told me what I already knew, I’d torn a muscle in my calf. He also wanted me to go in for an ultrasound just to be certain I didn’t have a blood clot. For that, I had to drive over to the hospital and limp from the parking lot inside. I waited for over an hour and then they told me it was going to be up to 3 more hours before they could squeeze me in…so I said fuck it and went home. I’m active. I’m young-ish. I know I don’t have a stinking blood clot! I was a little worried Adam would be upset with me for leaving, but he said he understood and just suggested that I could try to get it done tomorrow (today) if I wanted to. I honestly don’t want to though. For me, it’s torture having to be still. I hate being confined to the couch/chair/bed. I’m going crazy not being able to do the things I normally can. I’d rather be doing laundry, and that is by far my least favorite chore around the house!

If I can come up with some good ideas or topics worth blogging about, I’ll probably write a lot more over the next few days. Hopefully, I’ll heal quickly. I do feel much better than I did yesterday. If anyone has some questions or suggestions for me to write about, please feel free to leave me a comment! I’m sooo bored!

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Safe words

Adam and I have never actually had “safe words”. When it comes to sex, “no, stop, please” are all words that will put an immediate halt to things. I rarely say any of them, but it has happened, and Adam has always respected my requests. When it comes to spanking, there are also no safe words, however I realized just yesterday that there is one tiny phrase that Adam will pause for. “I’m scared.” I have only ever said it a few times before, but when he pulled a hairbrush out of the drawer, I was afraid. It’s been months since I’ve felt the sting of a hairbrush. He’d gotten me into position and had his arm raised when I said it, I’m scared. He brought his spanking hand down and used his other one to hold my hand he’d already pinned behind my back. I didn’t get out of the spanking, but that small gesture made me feel safe and comforted. Obviously, there’s an element of fear when you know your butt’s about to get whooped, but Adam would never want to do anything emotionally damaging to me. It’s important to him that I feel secure in those vulnerable moments. I honestly have never consciously thought to vocalize those words as an attempt to stop, or even pause, a spanking. It’s always genuine when I’ve said it. I guess I just hadn’t ever really thought about their impact. I love that Adam knew exactly what I needed. I love that he listens to what I’m expressing in words and in my actions. I’ve never felt the need for a safe word with Adam. We are so deeply connected to one another, he can always read my body language. He gets me.

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Practical submission

What does submission really look like? Have you ever been stopped by the police? Maybe you were going too fast. Maybe you had a taillight out. When you see those lights flip on in your rear view mirror, you know exactly what you’re supposed to do next. You find a place to safely pull over and you fumble through the glovebox for your insurance and registration. The first question every officer asks is “Do you know why I pulled you over?” Now, there is always a dilemma going on in my mind when I’m asked that question. Do I admit I knew I was speeding? Do I feign surprise when he tells me I’ve got a tail light out that I’ve actually known about for months?

I was once pulled over when I was 16 years old for running a stop sign. Thing was, it wasn’t me. I had a cousin who looks more like my twin who also happened to drive a car very similar to mine, same in color, and with the same style license plate. We were both driving in the same town around the same block at the same time. When the officer told me he’d seen me run the stop sign, I was frustrated because I knew that I had not done that! I tried to argue that it was not me who’d done that, but the officer was having none of it. I realized quickly I wasn’t going to win this argument and if I didn’t shut my mouth, it was only going to get worse for me. He gave me a verbal warning and let me go.

Things like that happen in marriage sometimes too. Adam will come to me with “Do you know why I’m upset with you?” I have to quickly decide how I’m going to answer that question. How much does he actually know? Is he talking about what happened yesterday, or does he know about that other thing? Sometimes, I’m genuinely not sure what I’ve done. Occasionally, I completely disagree that what I’ve done was in any way wrong. Rarely, but it happens, I didn’t do what he’s accusing me of. I have choices to make in every situation like these. I can get angry and defensive. I can cry and plead. I can play dumb about it. Or, I can humble myself and listen carefully to what he’s saying whether or not I agree with him. Adam is always willing to listen to my side of the story. He gives me the benefit of doubt much more often than not. He’s never cruel. We do not always agree, though.

Submission does not mean I can’t give my opinions. It doesn’t mean I can’t disagree. Submission is pulling over when you see those red and blue lights flashing behind you. There’s a right way to disagree. If you choose to argue your case, you can go to court and do so, respectfully. If you get belligerent and angry at the officer, it’s not going to end well. That officer has the authority to put you in handcuffs and throw you in jail if you decide to escalate the situation. In the same way, my husband has the authority to discipline me if I refuse to cooperate respectfully. I can still be in submission and argue my case if I just do it in the right way.

It isn’t always easy to submit. It can get ugly real fast if I get indignant and uncooperative because I know I’m right and he’s wrong. Submission is something we all do everyday. We submit to the laws and the people who uphold them. We submit to our bosses. Submission is not something only weak or mindless people can do. I think it takes strength to submit. It takes humility to admit when you’re wrong. It also takes integrity and good character to be worthy of submission. A tyrant can force others to physically submit to their will, but only those who have earned trust and respect are worthy of true submission of the heart, mind, and body.

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God + marriage = good sex?

For all of you believers and the secularists out there, I was recently asked about my own faith and how I reconcile that with my insatiable appetite for all things sexy. Everyone who knows Adam and I, know that we enjoy each other’s bodies daily, sometimes multiple times in a day. We have a marriage that those around us repeatedly tell us they envy. My single girlfriends say they want to find their own “Adam”. After more than a decade together, we are still in love and can’t keep our hands off one another. We bicker sometimes, occasionally really piss each other off, but no matter what, we never even think about ending our relationship. Divorce is NOT an option. We pray before meals, attend church, and are open about our faith. And then we go to bed and f#(k each other’s brains out. We have a drawer full of toys and flavored lube. We regularly experiment with new places and positions. We have never brought anyone else into our bed and we are 100% faithful to each other. Besides that, I can’t think of anything we haven’t or wouldn’t try.

I had only one other sexual partner before my husband. He didn’t treat me very well at all. He was selfish and used me like a plaything for his own pleasure without considering or caring for mine. Needless to say, I didn’t particularly enjoy or look forward to sex when I first met Adam. It was just something I did to keep my man interested and happy. Adam showed me a completely new version of sex like I’d never known was possible. He took care to make certain that I was enjoying it. He was cautious about doing anything that might hurt me, unless I specifically asked him for it. Adam had a whole lot more experience than I did with the opposite sex. I almost refused to date him when I found that out because I wasn’t sure I could trust a man to be faithful who had been around the block so many times. I’m so glad I took that risk anyway! Adam has never cheated. I don’t believe he would ever hurt me like that either.

Neither of us had a relationship with God before we got together. Personally, I’d never doubted His existence, but I used to say I just wasn’t ready to be that good yet. Christians are so boring. I’ve learned that’s not the case at all. God is actually pretty kinky! Ever read Song of Solomon?! Of course, the stipulation was marriage and commitment. God wants us to have as much kinky sex as we desire, within the confines of marriage. I happen to be married, so as a Christian, I don’t have to feel guilty about sex. I’m absolutely not judging anyone who isn’t married and enjoys sex. I’ve been there. Adam’s been there, many many times. I’m only trying to explain how my own faith can work with TTWD (This Thing We Do). I believe God intends for a husband to be in authority over his wife. I believe husbands are to love their wife as Christ loves the church, so like, A LOT). I try to live in submission because I believe it’s what we’re told to do, but also because it’s what I deeply desire to do. I feel safe, cherished, protected, loved, wanted, needed, adored when I give Adam the gift of my submission. Is it always easy for me? NO! (Read my blog post immediately ahead of this one lol). I falter, stumble, fail, but that’s where Adam comes in. I want him, need him to love me enough to discipline me. I crave the emotional release I get when the guilt and shame of my destructive behavior are washed clean by my husband’s loving hand.

Is all this biblical or “Christian” of us? I think so. We’re not perfect examples of Christians. Not even close. But, I do not believe for a second that what we do in our relationship with each other is wrong or goes against Christ teachings. I’m sure there are plenty of bible thumping, fire and brimstone believers who’d have lots to say about why I’m wrong. I couldn’t care less what they think, though. I care what God thinks. I care what my husband thinks. Nobody else’s opinions matter much to me.

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When he can’t make “fix” it

I’ve had a family member struggling with terrible health issues. I’m doing everything I can to help her. Seeing her unable to do things she once so enjoyed, in tremendous pain, and with good days so unpredictable and growing fewer, it’s all taking a toll on my own emotional health. This is absolutely not her fault. She did nothing to bring this on herself. There is no blame to go around and maybe that’s even more frustrating? I feel helpless. This is out of my control and I can’t make it better. My stress and hormones are all over the place. We have some very important dates coming up early next month where we’re going to learn whether she’s improving or the disease is progressing and if so, how much time we have left with her.

The smallest things seem to set me off. I feel like my cup is too full. Even one extra drop of water and everything spills over. Adam was trying to get some work done using a new computer program that he’s unfamiliar with. It was getting late, I was tired and grumpy. He was struggling and instead of being supportive, or even just walking away, I made him feel like crap. I reminded him of how incapable he was at similar tasks in the recent past. He’s technologically illiterate. He doesn’t understand what a “cloud” is or how it works. He can’t ever remember a freaking password, so he’s constantly having to recover them. After I had sufficiently crucified him, I finally walked away leaving him to fend for himself. I stepped outside and felt the summer night air. I listened to the locusts and watched an owl fly out of a tree and land on our fence. I opened my blog and began to read my own writings from just hours before. My heart softened and I began to realize how cruel and disrespectful I had just been to Adam. I wished so badly I could take it all back. I wished that Adam had told me to knock it off, yelled at me, punished me, anything other than what he’d done. He’d simply sat there and quietly took in all of my tongue lashing. I knew why he’d stayed silent. I knew I had gotten a pass because Adam knows I’m in pain. I think he feels powerless too because he can’t make this pain stop for me. Adam’s a fixer. He sees a problem and he finds a solution. This is not the kind of problem he has any power to fight, though. I can imagine exactly how he must be feeling because I’m struggling with the same emotions feeling useless and weak against the punches life is throwing right now.

I went back inside and found Adam already laying in bed. He patted my side of the bed, the spot right next to him where I sleep every night. I walked over and climbed into bed and I laid my head on his chest and put my arms around his neck. I wanted to erase the things I’d said to him earlier. I wanted to tell him how sorry I was. I couldn’t find words in that moment. Instead I laid there crying silent tears and trying to wipe them away before they fell on his chest and made him aware of my upset. I didn’t deserve comfort. I can tear down my husband’s confidence so quickly with my angry words and defiant actions. I knew I’d hurt him, made him feel small. He let me do it without fighting back because of the pain and the guilt he feels about what I’m going through right now. I took advantage of the deep love he feels for me. I failed miserably at submission last night. I am so very sorry for that.

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Good girl

Very few things get me hotter than hearing my husband whisper “good girl” in my ear as I’m taking whatever it is he’s giving me in that moment. Those two little words can make me cooperate with just about anything Adam wants me to do. Wanna spank me? Tell me I’m a good girl. Want a blow job? Tell me what a good girl I am. I don’t exactly know why that gets me so turned on, but ohhhh myyy gawd, it does.

Am I alone, or are there other ladies who love (or would love) to be told what a good girl they are?

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Confessions from a spankee

I haven’t talked a whole lot about the discipline part of DD yet. There is so much more to our relationship than spanking and, to be honest, I don’t do anything to deserve one all that often anyway. Adam’s hands get “twitchy” almost daily. He loves to give me a couple good smacks and I love it when he does. So many emotions happen when his hand connects with my bottom. Excitement, arousal, guilt, worry (how many more swats are coming?!). Other things I’ve felt on occasion are frustration, disappointment, and even sadness. These feelings surface when I find myself upset because Adam didn’t spank me how, when, and where I think he should have. I think I’d rather get an undeserved hard spanking than to deserve one and not get it. He doesn’t care enough to punish me. Why is this behavior only a problem when he feels like correcting it? I give up, he’s never going to get this right! In other words, he’s not doing it my way. Clearly, I have some work to do in my submission.

I know literally everyone who practices any form of DD will tell you that communication is number one. When feelings are bubbling to the surface and causing issues, talk talk and talk some more! I haven’t asked for a spanking. I’ve wished and hoped and hinted and acted out, but never just asked. To me, if I have to ask for it, it’s like asking him to buy me flowers. It loses all meaning if I have to beg, nag, or force it. Of course I understand why these thoughts need to be communicated to my husband. I’m not doing him or myself any favors keeping feelings bottled inside until I eventually explode in a fit of rage and frustration. I know I’m wrong for not just going to Adam and explaining how I feel. Let’s be real though, no one has this perfected. Any relationship is always a work in progress. We grow and our needs and desires evolve. Just like doctors practice medicine, we practice DD in our marriage and we are certainly not specialists!

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Feminine-ism

I call myself a femininitist. That’s not a misspelling of feminist. As I’ve said before, I’m all about equal rights for men and women. I believe we should all have the ability to make choices for ourselves about what we want to do with our lives. I do not, however, believe that women need to become men to achieve equality of the sexes. Too many people seem to equate being equal to mean “the same”. Men and women are not the same, and that’s okay! We have equal value as a person. We have equal rights. We have more similarities than differences, really. Personally, I love men and masculinity. I’m not talking about the guy who can bench press 800 pounds, degrades others, picks fights, and treats women like objects to be used and abused. I mean real, healthy, sexy, masculinity. A man who knows he can take care of business. A man who can and will do whatever it takes to protect others, but also has self control and doesn’t have to be a dick to get control of a situation. I’ve seen Adam deescalate plenty of almost fights. If a man hurt me or threatened me, I have no doubt Adam would knock him to the ground if he had to, but I love the quiet strength he exudes. Violence isn’t the go to option. It’s a last resort. If it’s necessary, he will absolutely put himself in harms way to protect those he cares about. The word masculinity has gotten a bad rep and that seriously bothers me. People are lumping all men together as if they’re all violent, sexist, heartless unless they denounce their manhood in favor of more feminine behaviors and attitudes. You need to be more like women, men and boys are being told.

On the flip side, girls and women are being taught that we need to act like men. Fight the patriarchy! Resist any man who tries to pay for your dinner, open your door for you, offers to help lift something heavy…Any sign of masculinity from a man is shunned. If a woman gets loud, bossy, threatens to punch your lights out, objectifies men, treats them as second class, that’s not only encouraged, it’s celebrated! We seem to be taking these stereotypes of truly toxic behavior generalized as masculinity and trying to emulate those characteristics as women. These are not desirable traits in a man or a woman.

If we could just embrace our own feminine powers and realize that we can do so much more to achieve success in our lives if we accept and use our uniquely feminine attributes and abilities, we could do anything! Men want to make us happy. I read about this type of bird who will work and work to build the most beautiful nest to attract his mate. He finds shiny pieces of foil and string to decorate the nest with. If, after some time has passed, no mate has shown interest in his nest, he will tear it down and start all over. Ladies, men are so much like those birds. They want to please us! Understand and use their desire to make us happy instead of insulting and degrading them for it. Masculine and feminine are ying and yang. We work beautifully together. I call myself a femininitist because I love femininity. I can’t open the pickle jar, lift that heavy box, or pee standing up, but I can grow our beautiful babies in my belly and then feed them with my own body. I beat my husband at scrabble every single time. Adam asks me for help writing a paper because he knows I’m a spelling and grammar queen. He brings home the bacon, I fry it up. Of course, this is not the way all men and women would like to live out their marriage, and that’s okay too. As for me though, I’m a femininitist.

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Who’s the boss?

I once saw a quote that read “If you want your husband to lead, you have to step down and allow him to.” This might not have been applicable 50 years ago, but it certainly is now. What was once expected of men and marriage, seems to be the exception to the rule now. I am certainly all for women’s rights. I vote. I think women should be free to choose how they want to live their lives. I know that there are plenty of men and women who would never even consider a husband as the Head of Household (HoH). They are partners, equals. I used to feel exactly that way, too.

I absolutely believe that my husband and I are of equal value. We are both intelligent people with our own unique strengths and abilities. I married a man who recognizes all of the ways that I contribute to our family and relationship. He appreciates me for all of me. He also knows my flaws. He has learned when to encourage me, when to help me, and when to do it for me. He knows these things because I’ve trusted him enough to step aside and let him lead. I suppose he could have forced me to submit to his will had he been a violent and cruel man, but he’s not those things, and most men aren’t either. I truly believe that there are many (maybe most) men among us who are aching to feel worthy of the woman they love’s trust in their ability to lead well. I also believe there are many women who are silently begging their man to step up and be a good leader. I can’t tell you the weight off my shoulders knowing that my husband has got us.

My challenge to other women is to simply give him a chance. If you disagree about how to handle a problem, where to go on vacation, whether to save or spend that unexpected bonus money, take a deep breath and let him lead, just this once. I can almost promise you the world will not come to an end. You surely married a competent and loving man? Even IF it turns out your way was the better option, watch how your husband responds to being validated in that moment when his wife actually trusted him to get it right. I am NOT a perfect example of submission, not even close. I fail to bite my tongue more often than I’m prepared to admit here. The thing is, I can count the number of times my husband’s way turned out bad on TWO fingers. Yep, two. That’s all. And, when he realized he’d made the wrong choice, let me tell you, he did everything in his power to make it right. We’re still here. We have a beautiful home, happy and healthy kids. We’re not rich, but I don’t have to worry about how we’re going to pay the electric bill or anything like that. I’m so proud of Adam’s ability to steer us in the right direction. I’ve seen him make countless selfless decisions for the good of his family. I’ve convinced him that my way was the best choice, and been completely and utterly wrong. Adam never blamed me or held that over my head. If we end up in a tough spot, whether it’s my doing or his, Adam carries that weight without hesitation, anger, or blame. He takes his leadership responsibilities very seriously. He doesn’t abuse his authority. He knows the authority he has over us is because I’ve freely and willingly submitted to him. He could be a tyrant and make all these choices without bothering to involve me, but he’d never do that because he has a love and mutual respect for me. I know he would give up all of his worldly possessions to get me something I needed if that’s what it took. You see, when I choose to submit to his leadership, his devotion to me and his commitment to what’s best for ME actually grows. If I nagged him for every choice, mistake, or insisted we always do it my way, his confidence would crumble. How could he ever do right by us if I never gave him the opportunity? How could he “prove” his love for me if I refused to trust him to have my best interests at heart? I’m not suggesting wives shouldn’t have opinions or share them! I’m simply asking that you consider stepping down, even just this once, and see how your husband leads. You might even find, like I did, that your faith in your husband grows as his enthusiasm to provide and protect you will. You, dear wives, have the amazing ability to inspire your husband to do everything possible to make your life better, if you simply allow him to step up to the plate and prove himself ❤️

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Our not so secret, secret

We live in the suburbs. Our neighborhood reminds me of the streets and houses from that old show “The Wonder Years”. Of course, our houses are updated and I don’t think anyone in our neighborhood drives a wood paneled station wagon, but y’all get the picture. We have block parties and our kids play with all of the neighbor’s kids. If I need to borrow some sugar, I can call on a neighbor. Everyone’s friendly and it’s safe to let the kids ride their bikes around the block.

We were barbecuing and playing in the pool a couple weekends ago. Some of our neighbors and their kids meandered over and we cracked open some beers and sat outside on the patio. I had music playing and I jokingly leaned in and told my friend this song made me almost wish I did drugs because it’s a total “get high with me” type of song. We giggled and I looked up to see her boyfriend standing right there. He told me he outta put me over his knee and have Adam spank me for saying something like that! Now, I know he would never do that, but I also know he happens to have a lot of family and friends who’ve been destroyed by drugs. Nothing more was said about that and we had a great evening hanging outside with everyone. It was only later that I began to wonder, do they know? Adam’s never been shy about giving me “the look” or even about slapping my butt just because he feels like it. I try to live out my commitment to submission in my marriage. I don’t hide the fact that Adam’s the ultimate authority in our home. I have to wonder though, how much have our neighbors actually seen, heard, or inferred? Do we give off spanky vibes? Or, maybe my neighbors girlfriend got quiet when he said that because we’re not the only couple on the block with a paddle hidden somewhere in our house?

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My favorite mistake

In my first post I told y’all I was going to share another first next time. I’m going to talk about my very first spanking. I totally understand that not everyone who considers themselves a part of the DD community include spanking in their relationship. We do. Unlike most others I’ve read about, we hadn’t had a real conversation about discipline in our marriage. I never had to approach my husband and ask for this, and he didn’t [exactly] ask me either. This has been more of a gradual build up to where we are now. It started out sexual, and went to more of a playful thing. For the most part, that’s still what spanking is in our relationship. I get “love taps” almost daily. The first time it became somewhat more of a tool for discipline was about 8 years ago. I was being argumentative and witchy. We were just getting started in my husband’s small business and trying to sort and fill out heaps of paperwork. I was in a mood and I knew it. The words that flung from my mouth seemed to do so before my brain even got the memo. I wasn’t exactly being mean or hateful, just…witchy. Finally, Adam stood up, walked over to me, put his arm around my waist, bent me over, and gave me just a few stinging smacks. I didn’t get angry or yell at him. I honestly wasn’t even particularly shocked when it happened. Like I said, he’d been playfully spanking my rear end for a long time at that point. This felt different. Not that it necessarily physically hurt anymore than previous, playful spankings. It was his dominant, “I’ve had enough” emotion that made this time unique. Not only did my whole attitude change for the better, but I also saw Adam in a whole new version of the sexy, strong, masculine husband I’d married. I was incredibly attracted to this Adam 2.0 I’d just discovered! So, while this first might seem a little anticlimactic, for us it was the start of this thing we do now. I have no doubt that had I reacted badly that night, that would’ve been the first and last time Adam spanked me that way. He’s a big guy. 6’3” tall, muscular, played college football, but I’ve never seen him put his hands on anyone in anger. He has and would never hurt me. A few slaps on the butt can definitely smart, but for us, that is much different than bullying or abuse. This is consensual. I know I made my enthusiasm for what he’d done crystal clear by my attitude, my actions, and my excitement in the bedroom later that night. We have since had plenty of discussions about our relationship and TTWD. I don’t think either of us planned for DD to be part of our relationship, it just organically moved in that direction.