Friday afternoon, I got a phone call that changed my life forever. I’m not ready to write about the details, but it has to do with my son. He was immediately taken to the closest hospital and then transferred to a children’s hospital. I’d been having a great day. I got out my fall scented candles and started to change out my summertime decorations with fall ones. My house smelled like cinnamon apples and pumpkin spice. I was sitting in the kitchen talking with a friend when my phone rang. It was his school. I don’t even remember the drive to him. Seeing my little boy like he was, I just can’t write about it yet. He’s alive, he will recover, but our life is going to look different for a very long time while we help him to heal. He’s still in the hospital, but he’s in good spirits. I managed to keep it together all but once in front of him. The frustration, anger, and fear got to me as one of the doctors explained something I didn’t understand and I couldn’t stop the explosion of tears and the angry words that flew from my mouth. My sweet boy tried to comfort ME. He told me “it’s okay mama, I’ll be okay.” I love him so much my chest is literally aching as I’m writing this.

I’m sorry for the cliffhanger, I’ll try to give more information as I’m able to, but I can’t make words out of the emotions I’m feeling right now. One miracle I can share today, my cousin is going to be going into rehab on September 4th and has pulled through after we didn’t think he would make it several times over the last couple of weeks! I believe in the power of prayer y’all.

It’s been HOT and HUMID here the entire month of August so far. I love summertime, but this heat is taking a toll on all of us. Adam’s been coming home grumpy and I hate it. He doesn’t yell or anything like that, he’s just more distant and quiet. He isn’t as playful or sarcastic and silly. He’s exhausted and drained from yet another day spent out in this triple digit weather. I can’t blame him. I understand. I miss my husband, though. This week has been the worst. I’m also PMS’ing, so my hormones are wrecked. For all of these reasons, I’ve struggled to find anything creative or interesting to write about. I have a few saved drafts that I started when I had good ideas pop up, but not enough time to finish my thoughts. Maybe I can work on those?

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.

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???

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.

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.

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.

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 😉

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.

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.

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.

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!

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.

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 ❤️

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?

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.