Wildflower

I’m a wildflower, growin’ in the sunshine
Soakin’ up the way of life I was raised in
Runnin’ barefoot, bloomin’ in a summer shower
Ponytail dancin’, I can’t help it, I’m a wildflower

~The JaneDear Girls

It’s been a busy week. Mj’s best friend, T, was here. She just went home, yesterday afternoon. I did a bunch of fun stuff with the kids. We had a movie night. We swam a bunch. We went to the indoor trampoline park. We went for a long walk, the other evening.

Adam and I are babysitting for Pj, tomorrow. I got her a swing, that we hung outside, under our deck.

Wyatt also helped me put together a new walker, we got for her.

Jackie was going through old pictures. She sent me a bunch of them. Where have all these years even gone?! It’s incredible, how many memories we’ve made.

It’s been a great week. We did have one incident, a few days ago. It was after supper. Adam was in the living room. I was cleaning up the kitchen. Mj and T were running around, being silly. Mj accidentally threw one of T’s flip flops behind the fridge. That was a bit of a panic moment, for me. Getting our big ol’ fridge to sit perfectly level, without tearing up the floor, was a hell of a chore, when we moved in here. It took 4 grown men, and a lot of finagling. If it isn’t just right, the doors won’t close properly. So, it wasn’t going to be a simple thing, to get that flip flop back. Adam and I argued, about how to do it. I suggested a wire hanger, to grab hold of the strap of her sandal, and pull it up from behind. It was right near the inside edge. He refused to hear my idea. Instead, he tried a bunch of things that didn’t work, and made it even more difficult. Finally, he walked away, and came back with a wire hanger. And, what do ya know? He got it out…using MY plan! In the meantime, I had grown evermore grumpy, and frustrated with him, because he wasn’t listening to me. It sounds so silly now, but I didn’t think so, in the moment. I’d definitely spoken to him in a less than respectful manner. When we got in the shower, we both stayed silent. Eventually, Adam looked at me and said, “You’re not going to talk to me like that.” I explained where my own upset had come from. Why I’d gotten angry, and then condescending, insulting, belittling towards him. He told me there will not be a next time, because he won’t be giving me another “get out of jail free card”, if I do it again. At one point, as he lectured me, I’d closed my eyes. He asked me if I’d just rolled my eyes to him? I insisted, I had NOT! I told him I wouldn’t do that, because I knew damn well, if I did do it, I’d be sleeping on my stomach for a week. That’s my own euphemism for, he’d spank me really hard. He said, “You know what? That’s the smartest thing you’ve said all night. Because, you’re right. I would’ve beat your bottom blue.” That’s his euphemism for, he’d spank me hard. We ended our night the way we do, most nights. Our naked bodies, pressed against each other. Adam was a little extra domineering, in bed. He removed the tee shirt and panties I’d gotten into bed wearing, and immediately climbed on top of me. Using his leg, he parted mine, and I gasped, as he pushed himself inside of me. It didn’t hurt, but he wasn’t exactly gentle, either. He maneuvered my body into many different positions, as he had his way with me. When he climaxed, he thrust himself deep inside of me. I let out a shriek. I used my own hands to cover my mouth, attempting to stifle anymore sounds I might make. He stayed where he was, on top of me, inside of me, and looked down into my eyes. He smiled. He leaned down and kissed me, as he pulled himself from me. I went to sleep wrapped in his arms. Several hours later, I must’ve been dreaming. I don’t remember what, though. What I remember, is waking up to my own whimpers, and my hand thrashing around. Adam had pulled me close to him, and he held my face in one hand, as he softly ran his other hand over my hair. As he stroked my hair, he was saying “Shhhh. You’re okay.” His hands can be so gentle. They can also feel like stone. It’s comforting, sexy, intimidating, and mysterious to me. My hands don’t have that ability. I was talking to him, about this, the next night. I told him that his gentle hands are so loving, and knowing how hard they can get, makes his gentle hands seem even more powerful. He said that, even when his hands aren’t so gentle, he’s always using them to love me. He assured me, for the umpteenth time, he would never put them on me in anger. He never wants to hurt me. He will never punch, kick, or slap me. He’s never done those things. We’ve playfully “slapped” each other. Not even hard enough to sting. He’s pretended to “kick” my behind. He’s made a fist, and pressed it against my own fisted hand. Holy hell, his hand in a fist, is like a cinder block!! I know he’s never spanked me, even close to, as hard as he actually could. I trust my husband. I know he isn’t going to harm me. I mean, if he really wanted to, he most definitely would’ve done it by now! I do have quite a mouth on me…