This was a text conversation I had with Adam yesterday 😆 I think I’m hilarious.

We’re silly more often than serious ❤️

The last few days, I have found myself twice in situations where I had to decide between the raw and honest truth, or to do what Adam calls “side step” the truth. I never flat out lie to him. I choose my words carefully. For example, he wanted me to call a company who’s doing some work on our house to make sure they bill my new debit card instead of trying to pull it from my recently expired one. It just so happened that this company had someone stop by to do some measuring and stuff that very afternoon. I didn’t think I needed to call their office because I could look back and see the most recent bill paid was from my new card, so there should be no reason for worry. When Adam got home and asked me about this, I told him “I spoke to someone from the company today. There should be no issues when they pull the next bill at the end of the month.” Every word I said was truth. However, I knew he would assume that meant I’d called them. He told me “great job, boo”. I immediately followed him into our bedroom and told him the entire truth. He wasn’t thrilled that I’d “side stepped”, but he appreciated that I’d come clean right away and I showed him where they’ve already taken from my new debit card. I assured him that, if there was any problem, I would call them right away. I’ll watch to make sure they get paid by the end of this month. He smacked my butt a few times, but he wasn’t particularly angry with me. I can see in his face, hear in his voice, and feel on my behind when he’s being serious. He appreciates when I come clean, even if he might not like what I have to say. When I’m sincere and genuinely sorry, he never gets angry or disappointed in me like he will when he finds out that I’ve lied or disobeyed him and continue my attempts to hide it from him. If he discovers I’ve done that, the look on his face of hurt and disappointment, the way his voice changes to what the kids call his “dad voice”, and most definitely the seriousness I can feel when his hand, belt, wooden spoon, get brought down on my behind, are obviously different. I only get those type of spankings a handful of times a year. Last week, when he caught me in a lie, was one of those times. Last night, when I came to him and explained about the billing concern he had, was not one of those times. I know that he wants me to always come to him. I know that, when I do, he is never deeply disappointed, hurt, or angry with me. I know that we can talk about it, he might swat my butt a few times, and then we can go on with our day or night. When it’s one of those rare, serious punishments, I’m not going to be having any fun for the rest of the day or evening. Last night, we talked and he swatted my butt, and then we went downstairs to the patio and listened to music while we chatted with some friends. Everything was good. I much prefer this.

I really am trying to remember all of this. It is almost like instinct for me to automatically “side step” the truth if I think he won’t like it. It’s something I need to work harder on. His trust in me is so very important to me. He does know that I can’t look at him and lie. I won’t ever just make up a story to him. My issue is that I often find a way to tell the truth, without telling the whole truth. I know that’s still dishonest. I realize it’s not acceptable and why. I’m proud of myself for, at least, catching myself quickly and telling on myself, though. He sees that I’m putting more effort into this, and he appreciates that. He’s patient with me. He’s not mean to me, even when I’ve done something awful. I think he struggles sometimes with whether or how much to punish me because he doesn’t want me to conceal things next time because I’m afraid of what he’ll do. He’s teaching me that it’s always much better to show integrity and just tell the damn truth.

This is the belt. It doesn’t look as scary in this picture as it is to me looking at it. It’s really thick and wide and heavy. He doesn’t even keep it hung alongside all the rest of his belts in the closet. He leaves this one sitting out on a shelf just so I have to look at it everyday when I go into our closet. It had merely been a threat, but was never more than that, until Tuesday night. Last night, Adam and I were talking about it, and he made sure to let me know that was the easiest he would ever go on me with this belt. He assured me that, next time, it will be much worse. I’m not exactly sure whether that’s “merely” a threat, or a promise? I’m not looking to find out, right now, though! I have been “softer”, more careful with my words and my attitude. When Adam tells me something, I’m listening. I don’t want to act a fool and give him the impression that he didn’t punish me hard enough. I want him to know that I heard him, I saw him, and I certainly felt him when he “corrected” me.

It’s so different, lately. It’s only been recently that Adam has been seriously holding me accountable like this. He was never afraid to call me out on my shit before, but he absolutely calls me on all of my shit now. Things I used to get away with. Things I wouldn’t have even felt particularly guilty about before now. He ain’t playin’. I like it, though. It isn’t fun having my husband lecture me and punish me, but it’s like, okay, he’s got me, and I believe that. We went through such a difficult couple of years when my mother lost her damn mind for the last time. I don’t expect her to ever find it back, either. I’ve accepted that she’s gone. In many ways, it would’ve been much less complicated had she had some terrible accident and passed away, instead. I could hang her pictures in our home. I could talk about her with my kids and not have the deep sense of fear and hurt that comes over all of us when she comes up in conversation. My kids wouldn’t have these memories of their grandmother terrorizing us, threatening, and betraying us. I don’t think this will ever just stop hurting. It’s just that, I’ve reached acceptance. While this was all happening and the shit just would not quit coming, Adam did everything he could to comfort me. His heart broke for me and for our kids. He couldn’t take the pain away for us. I’m sure that he felt helpless for awhile. I think this is how I managed to get so used to not having him call me on my bullshit. At least, not very often. Slowly, and then quickly, he’s become the king here. He’s still, and always will be, my kind and generous, my silly and fun, playful and thoughtful Adam. He’s still these amazing things, to me. He’s also my fierce protector. My rock. He can use his big hands to hold me, make love to me, to gently caress my back. He also uses them to “correct” me when I’m wrong. His hands cause me both pleasure and pain. His hands are always guided by his love for me, though. And that is something I absolutely respect. I have a whole lot’a trust and faith in Adam. It’s even still growing, recently. I think this is why I feel like I’m danged near constantly screwing up. I’m not quite used to this version of Adam now. It’s a difficult thing to put into words here, but I’m trying. Stupid crap I do that I wouldn’t have thought twice about last year, I now think over and over about. I want him to keep up what he’s been doing, but I also convince myself he won’t. I tell myself while I’m saying or doing something I probably shouldn’t eh, he won’t really punish me for this. Then, I go ahead and say it or do it. Then, I start to wonder and worry. But, what if he does care? Should I tell him now so it isn’t worse if he finds out? I get a glimpse into his mood when I talk to him and decide whether I should say anything about it. Finally, I either chicken out, or I just come clean. There are 2 reasons for each one of those decisions I make.

1) If I tell him, and he doesn’t punish me, or at least let me know that isn’t acceptable, I’m going to find it much easier to keep doing what I’m doing. I clearly feel some guilt, which suggests that I know I’ve fucked up, but if he doesn’t care, then the next time I find myself in this spot, I won’t have the guilt. I don’t want to see him as “weak”. So, I keep my mouth shut and don’t confess it to him. OR, I go ahead and tell him because, why not? He ain’t gonna be upset!

2) What if I tell him, and he does punish me? What if he brings that god darned belt out of the closet? So, I chicken out. OR, I throw caution to the wind and confess because, dammit, I should be in trouble for this!

Adam has shown me that he does, in fact, mean it. He is like the Adam I knew a few years ago, only stricter now. Maybe he’s making up for lost time? Whatever it is, I’m really trying to understand, believe, and accept that this isn’t temporary. He isn’t going to “go back” to the pushover husband he became while we processed the trauma that was happening because of my mother. I sometimes do “test” him, and I know I shouldn’t. It’s part of my learning how much of my crap he will still actually take now. A lot of the things I screw up aren’t really because I intended to “test” him, though. It’s only that I didn’t expect he would care that much or punish me. That I wasn’t expecting to feel guilty and either tell him, or get caught. I want to be a great wife to him. I truly do! He’s the best thing God ever could’ve given me. Because of Adam, I have these beautiful babies we created together. I have the most amazing life. I have a husband who lives everyday to make things easier, better for me.

Yesterday afternoon, I had missed a call from a number I didn’t recognize, but looked local. There was no voicemail, so I left it. Then, I started to worry, because I haven’t gotten the paperwork from the doctor that the school needs just yet. I’d intended to do it on Monday, but had forgotten the kids had no school that day. Also, our daughter has been having problems with allergies and breaking out in hives out of nowhere. I decided it’s time to make her an appointment. So, I figured I could make one trip and “kill two birds with one stone”. My worry was that someone from school might’ve been calling to ask about this, and I hadn’t told Adam about what I’d decided to do. I checked in with him to see if I could gauge his mood. He seemed fine. He told me he was just real busy. Perfect, I thought, I can explain when he’s home and prevent any issues coming up now. And, that’s exactly what I did. We’d had a nice evening. We went for an extra long walk after supper. Things were great. While we were in the shower, that was my opportunity to talk alone with him. I told him about my plans and he wasn’t upset about it. As we were just getting out of the shower, he mentioned something about how he was glad I’d told him, and that it’s not an issue when I come to him and tell the truth. Then, he said something I wasn’t ready for. He brought up the doctor and how I’d at least made that phone call… To clarify why this made my heart skip a beat, I had not, in fact, spoken to the doctor. Several days ago, I’d spoken to the school nurse on the phone. When Adam questioned me about whether I’d called the doctor to get this taken care of, I told him I’d spoken to “the nurse”. I implied that, yes, I’d called the doctor’s office. I told him I needed to get something else signed off on by the doctor now and would be going in there on Monday. I didn’t do it Monday for the reasons I’ve mentioned already, which wasn’t a problem. The problem was that he specifically brought up the doctor’s office. It must’ve been written all over my face, because he gave me an intense stare and said “You lied to me? Did you lie to me?” I argued the best I could that I’d implied something. I’d sort of lied. I knew what they’d say to me, so I didn’t make that phone call. Why didn’t I just tell him that in the first place, I don’t know. I guess I just didn’t want to in case it was one of those things he would insist on and I didn’t want to have to do it. It’s the most stupid shit sometimes! Ridiculous crap that winds up becoming such a big issue because I hid it from Adam when it was a tiny issue. He wasn’t having any of my arguments about why it wasn’t exactly a lie. He was upset, maybe angry, but not mean. He went in our closet and brought his belt out. This belt that scares the heck out of me. This belt that he’s only threatened me with before. Playfully smacked me with it, but not punished me! He told me “Now this pisses me off”. I knew I wasn’t getting out of it. He was very serious. He wanted me to put my hands on the bathroom counter, away from where his belt would be swinging down. I could not make myself do that. I told him “I can’t do that.” Then, I sat down on the edge of our bath tub. As if I could’ve really saved myself by doing that… He scooped me up and I stayed in the fetal position with my knees tucked under my chin. It’s a bit of a blur to me what was happening or how, but I know he ended up sitting on the toilet lid with me in his lap. I knew I didn’t want to be swinging my head around. The bruise on my cheekbone is still a little blue from the last time he picked me up and I swung my head around and hit the corner of the wall hard. I was wearing only the towel I’d wrapped around myself after our shower, which slid up and offered my butt zero protection now. Every time he swung that belt down, I squeezed my arms tighter around his neck. My head laying on his shoulder like I’m hugging him. I know he asked me a question. Something along the lines of “Do you understand?” And, I knew the correct response was “yes, sir”. My stubbornness managed to eek out a little, because I only replied “yes”. I knew when he swung his belt back that I needed to tell him what he wanted to hear, so I said “yes, sir”. He asked me “what?” I said, “yes sir!” He still spanked me one last time. This morning, I can still feel exactly where his belt landed that time, too.

I don’t know if I really believed he’d spank me with that belt. I knew I didn’t want it. I wasn’t convinced he’d use it, though. I’m convinced now. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking, but I found myself standing in front of him with my hand on my hip as if I was in control of the situation now. He was repeating to me that he was hurt that I’d lied to him. He knows it’s a dumb thing to lie about, but it takes trust away. My God, I couldn’t take it anymore. I didn’t give him the “satisfaction” of crying tears or crying out when he spanked me, but having him look at me like that, and how hurt he was, it broke me. Seeing (and definitely still feeling) that he was not messing around was not so easy for me. I could literally feel my chin starting to quiver like a little kid does when they’re trying not to cry. I could no longer stop the tears. I felt like shit. It was also very apparent to me that this wasn’t easy for Adam, either. He felt bad, too. I do understand that position, because I’ve been there with our kids before. It isn’t fun to call out someone you love, and it definitely isn’t fun to punish them for it.

I didn’t sleep all that well last night. Adam held onto me all night. He was never cruel to me. I have zero ability to “win” when he stays calm and refuses to go along with my arguments. I have serious respect for him having the courage and strength to stand up to me. Having the wisdom to not allow me to change the subject or to anger him with my words so that he “stooped down” to my level and lost his authority in the moment. It’s a very attractive thing to see my husband like that. I am overwhelmed with emotions. I felt safe and afraid all at once when I knew he was serious with his belt in his hand. I felt unbelievably guilty when I knew he was serious. I felt quietly proud of him when I knew he was serious. I felt embarrassed and ashamed when I knew he was serious. I never felt anger. I knew he was 100% right for feeling and doing what he did. I knew I was wrong, even if I wouldn’t admit it then. I had these conflicting emotions, last night, in bed. He handled my shit and he did it in a way that worked. We didn’t fight with each other. He didn’t even raise his voice to me. Having seen (and felt) this gives me so much security because I know I can trust him. I know I can screw up, and I’ve seen that he knows exactly how to deal with it. How to avoid losing his authority in the heat of the moment and give away his own power. I don’t want him to get out that belt again. I especially don’t want him to be disappointed in me again. However, I’m fully aware that I’m a flawed human being, and I’m going to do and say stupid shit again. Hopefully not in the near future, but certainly, it’ll happen. When that happens, I do want him to always be able to make me feel this way again. Not because it’s fun. Because it works. He never once made me feel like he didn’t love me. He never once insulted me. I only felt sorry. Not angry or hurt (besides maybe my ass). We went to bed calmly. He didn’t withdraw from me. There was no yelling and nobody slept out on the couch or threatened to leave.

All I want to do now is show Adam how much I love him. I want him to be proud of me. I want him to be able to trust me when I tell him something. I don’t like to make him angry. I hate to know he’s disappointed in me. I do not like his belt when he’s serious with it. I am so lucky to have someone who I can always know wants the best for me. He’s never selfish. I am, sometimes, selfish. I admire him. I hope he isn’t still feeling so disappointed in me today. I think he knows I’m truly sorry. I want him to know I’m also thankful for him, and very proud of him, too.

Womanhood, motherhood, and marriage. What are those things, to me? Everything. I am not defined only by these things, but they are my greatest accomplishments. I wake up everyday with a desire to improve myself in those areas. I’m far from perfect. I fail sometimes. I love being a wife and mother. My own mother didn’t show me how to do these things well. I’ve just known since I was very small that I wanted to be a good wife and mama. I love being a woman. I appreciate being treated like one. Not in a sexist, misogynistic way. I’m talking about things like Adam opening the car door for me, always pumping the gas at the station, insisting that he sleeps on the side of the bed closest to the door so that he can be first to get to anyone who might enter with intentions to harm us. He lifts heavy things so that I don’t have to. With ease, he opens jars I struggle with. And, of course, he spanks my ass, occasionally with intent to “teach me a lesson”. I crave a dominant man who encourages, even insists, on my submission when it counts. I am most confident and happy when I am reminded that he is never going to let me down. I feel safe when he protects me, even if it’s from myself and my own screw ups sometimes. I’m proud to be called his wife. I’m blessed to be the mother of his children. I appreciate when he treats me like a woman. I’m not a man. That doesn’t make me less valuable. I see it as Adam showing me that he values my happiness, security, safety, and well being even more than his own. Being loved like this is something I never knew was possible.

One day, hopefully a long while from now, when my eulogy is read, if it simply says “beloved wife, mother, sister, daughter, and friend”, I am most proud to have been those things.

My little man had his first school dance. Last night was their Homecoming game and dance. He asked his sister and me for advice on which shirt to wear, which shoes, asked if he should put some gel or spray in his hair, and which cologne to put on. He went with a very cute little girl and had a blast. Told us all about it when we picked him up after it was over. I can’t believe my boy is getting so grown! ❤️

We have a few friends coming by tonight to sit out and play some cornhole and guitar. Adam’s grilling pork chops for us and I’m making my famous lemon pepper green beans, and some of my chili potatoes to go with. Our daughter has her best friend here for the weekend, so the kids are keeping me busy.

Last night, we sat outside while we waited for our son to call us to come pick him up from his dance. It was just Jackie, Adam, and me. Jackie said “ok, I’m just going to address the ‘elephant in the room’ because I have to tell y’all about the other night.” She told us that when Adam had pulled me into our bedroom, she could hear the dogs barking because they wanted in there with us. She could also hear what was happening in our bedroom. She said that our daughter very casually looked at her and said “oh, it’s just daddy spanking mama and the dogs want to go in there and rescue her.” Now, I don’t know that she suspects it’s anything other than the playful way he slaps my butt all the time. We certainly have never talked with our kids about how daddy punishes mama sometimes. It was so funny to Jackie how normal and casual our daughter was about overhearing us, though! We all had a good laugh about it. I have been a very good girl these last couple of days, now.

I had managed to gain 2 pounds since the start of Adam and my bet we made. He hadn’t lost any weight yet. I weighed myself right after lunch, and now, I’m weighing in at a pound lighter than when we started! That was frustrating. I really have been much more conscious of my eating habits. I make myself eat something several times throughout the day. It’s working, too, because I’m finding myself getting hungry during the day much more often. The auto immune disease I struggle with makes it harder for my body to get the nutrients from food like you’d normally get. It works better for me to eat several small “meals” a day, rather than 2 or 3 big meals. I just have to make myself slow down and take the time to do it. Adam has been working out down in our garage and taking the dog out jogging with him. He is trying, but that guy can put down food like nobody I’ve known. He isn’t overweight. He’s a big guy. He doesn’t have his six pack abs right now, though. If we can both win our bet, we will both “win” each other’s super sexy, healthy bodies! I’m going to keep working at it.

Need I write anymore than what’s been said through our text messages? I told him. I actually sent him the post I shared here yesterday morning. It was easier to just do that. I write from my heart on here. It’s not me thinking about what Adam would think, what anyone who reads my stuff will think. It’s me pouring out my heart and soul into a blog I started because it helps me to process my thoughts in a healthy way. I love the input I get from so many great people who genuinely root for Adam and I, too. I really should’ve said something before he was already on his way home from work. As soon as he walked in, he told us all hello, gave me a kiss, and went and changed his clothes. I started to boil the water for the macaroni and cheese I was fixing. I had meatloaf in the oven. He came to the kitchen and grabbed my hand and told me “let’s go get this over with”. I insisted I couldn’t leave, my water would boil over! He told me it would only take a minute. The dogs tried to follow. He made them leave our bedroom. He sat on our bed and pulled me over his lap. I’d made the choice to wear a cute little sundress, making it very easy for him to pull my dress up out of his way. I got spanked, but I’ve certainly had worse ones. Then, I put my face into his chest so I could recover while he held onto me for a minute. It was over. All was good. I didn’t cry. I finished supper. The kids didn’t bat an eye. Jackie heard something, no doubt, because she was helping our daughter with a homework assignment in the dining room. She said nothing, though. Adam did come up to ask her about something shortly after we came out of our bedroom and she jumped and said she thought she was in trouble 😆 She told someone who was over here the other day that there’s only two people she’s afraid of. The first one is me. The second one, she only recently discovered she was afraid of…Adam. If he can get me to mind him, he’s got something in him she’s not gonna mess with! Ever since she moved in with us, it’s impossible to hide everything from her prying eyes and ears. She’s my best friend. I had to tell her what’s up. It’s almost comical to me how Adam doesn’t give a single F*** about who everyone thinks “wears the pants” at our house. If they assume it’s me, he don’t care. He knows what’s up and he don’t care what anyone else thinks. That’s pretty much the story of our life. Most everyone who knows us because they were my friend first, assumes that I’M the pants wearer. His friends know that’s probably not the case. Jackie knows because she’s here. She’s never said anything to anybody else, that I know of? At this point, I don’t really care anymore. I’ve learned that people don’t respect me less when they find out Adam can put me in my place. They respect me the same. They just respect Adam even more because he can stand up to me! Y’all have no idea just how tough and “hard” I can be. The people who’ve known me a long time know. I ain’t no pushover. It took my Adam coming into my life to be “my person”. To be the one who holds ME accountable. The one who can call ME on my bullshit. I’m glad for it. I’m lucky for it. I even think my best friend is happy to know it ❤️

While Adam and I were laying in bed, last night, he told me he was really proud of me for telling him, even though I knew I was wrong, and even though I knew I would probably get spanked for it. I talked to him about how much I appreciate that we can have a problem, he can get upset, and then after he punishes me, it’s over. He doesn’t get angry about it ever again. It only gets brought back up if I was to repeat the same offense. He told me he doesn’t ever hold grudges with me. He wrapped his arms around me and said “I love you too much to stay angry with you.” And then…I gave him a helluva blowjob.

I feel like a weight is off of my shoulders now. I had no idea just how heavy it was getting for me to carry this dumb secret I’d been holding back. Why did I do that?? I mean, I know my own reasons why, but it was stupid. I swear, I understand my kids screw ups sometimes because of being held accountable for my own bullshit. I get it. I’m not a child. I just get why they sometimes do ridiculously dumb crap. Our kids just got progress reports…all As for our daughter and As and Bs for our son. I’m proud of our babies! Our daughter’s best friend is coming over for the weekend. She gets to spend the whole weekend here with Mj. They’ve been looking forward to it for weeks. She actually calls me “Mama” too. Her own mother isn’t her primary caregiver. I’ve helped her through lots of the trials and tribulations of being a little girl her age. It should be a fun weekend for all of us.

T.G.I.F!

I’ve been internally struggling with an issue for a week now. Adam and I both got phone calls from the kids’ schools telling us they need updated immunization records. Records they should already have had transferred when we moved here, but for whatever dumb reason, their old schools failed to transfer them. They asked me to contact their doctor and request their shot records be sent to their school. Unfortunately, I just know it won’t be quite that easy. Our daughter is allergic to one of the ingredients in one of the childhood vaccines kids get. I need another specific form signed by her doctor to excuse this. I’m going to have to take her out of school, drive into Nashville, and get this form filled out by her doctor now. The issue I’m having, is that I neglected to tell Adam about this. I told him I talked to the nurse and left it at that because I knew darned well he would bug me about it everyday until I got this done. I’ve had a lot to do this week, and spending the better part of a day going to the doctor’s office just hasn’t been my top “to do” yet. The worst thing is that I haven’t felt guilty for keeping this from Adam. In a weird way, I feel guilty that I don’t feel sorry. Like, I should probably have this on my conscience, but I honestly haven’t. I’ve justified my actions to myself. I didn’t do anything awful. I simply didn’t want to explain this to him until I got it done. That way, I can do it on my own schedule. Last night, I briefly mentioned something about needing to call the doctor and Adam said he thought I’d already got that done. I told him I need to call again because the school doesn’t have their records yet. I didn’t give any further explanation, though. So now, I’ve doubled down on my “half truth” I’ve been telling him. It’s the dumbest shit to be (less than) honest about. I can’t exactly get out of it now. I’m taking her in on Monday so I can get this done. I’ve debated whether to just tell Adam, or not. I’m not sure whether I’m starting to worry that he’ll be upset enough to punish me, or am I keeping this to myself because I’m pretty sure he won’t care that much and it might make it easier to do this again. I’ve got a sinking feeling starting to come over me as I’m writing this all out. Maybe I do feel kind of guilty now? How wrong am I, really, for not telling the whole truth? Is it worse that I haven’t felt any remorse for it until now, when I’m actually taking the time to write about the whole situation? What if he gets mad at me? What if he doesn’t? I truly have been wanting to give him respect since the last issue that ended with me “winning” that battle. I know it isn’t a win or lose thing. That’s why I wanted to show Adam that I mean it when I tell him I do want him to lead. To command “respect” and “obedience”. It matters to me. I guess that’s why I’ve let it get this far. A whole week of sidestepping the truth because I knew he would hold me accountable and make sure I got it done.

This brings us to my current predicament. What the hell should I do now? I’m having second, third, and fourth thoughts. Outguessing my own self here. Regret growing by the minute. I don’t know if I can bring myself to be truthful at this point. I’ve let it go too far. I don’t know how to unwind this tangled web I’ve managed to weave.

The weather is starting to warm back up here. We got a taste of Fall, but weather in the south is a tease. Last Christmas, we were outside in shorts, playing basketball, and BBQ’ing for supper. I haven’t turned our AC back on just yet. Still got windows open like I’m in denial that it’s getting hot and humid out again. Back into the 90’s after today, so windows will definitely be getting closed and AC cut back on again.

It’s a long, boring story, but someone I know from my past needs my help. Someone who has been nothing but nasty to me. Someone who spent way too much time refusing to “get over” me and accept that I’ve moved on. The thing is, if I don’t help him, he’s going to lose his livelihood. He essentially asked me to sign a form saying he doesn’t owe me money. There was a judgement against him from years and years ago. I don’t want his damn money, anyway. He can’t get a loan now with this judgement showing up against him. So, I spoke with Adam and our attorney and we did some research to try to come up with a solution. It wasn’t quite as simple as signing a paper. I was able to figure out a way to satisfy the court and his bank that he does not owe me money now. I went out of my way to help someone who never would’ve done the same for me. Ya know, I feel pretty good about it. I am being the bigger person here. Adam told me he’s so proud of me, but he worries that my heart is too big. He is afraid that I’m too “soft” sometimes. He just doesn’t want to see me get hurt, and it’s not as easy for him to forgive someone who’s hurt me. The opposite of love isn’t hate. It’s indifference. I don’t hate people. I tend to believe that karma is a thing that comes back around. I hope this good deed is able to do that.

I went to the store today, and I bought some mums. I’m going to go get them planted in front of our house. I’ve got some decorative pumpkins and lanterns to put out, too. I think mid September is an appropriate time to put out those things? I had left up our American flags until after September 11. They’re coming down until next summer now.

Last night, Adam and I went out for a walk. We’ve been walking in the evenings after supper. I picked a bouquet of wildflowers along the way. There are lots of homes still being built near us, so there is also land that hasn’t been built on yet that has the prettiest variety of wildflowers.

I think I was PMS’ing, because, holy moly did I get a wave of grouchy shortly after we got back home. I did my best to avoid being bitchy toward anyone, and I think I handled myself fairly well, but shoooot. I honestly didn’t even feel like having sex when we went to bed. That is almost unheard of. I am always ready to get it on with my husband. I didn’t deny him or let him know I felt that way. I decided to just go with it, regardless of whether I felt like it. A funny thing happened when I did that. My mood improved. I felt closeness and security from Adam. I enjoyed it in spite of myself. It’s kind of amazing how sex with my man can bring up so many positive emotions. It can take my mind off a bad day. It can bring us back together after an argument. It can assure us both of our love and devotion to one another. It shows me Adam’s strength and his gentleness. It also seemed to cure my premenstrual syndrome blues! I understand why the Bible says not to deprive one another of our bodies. Sex is healing in a way that other things just can’t be.

On Sunday afternoon, Adam and I were playing around and he picked me up and threw me over his shoulder. As he was walking through the hallway, I jerked my head up and smacked my face right on the corner wall. I have a not so cute black eye now! When I was in high school, I got a black eye pitching in softball once, but haven’t ever had another besides that, until now. I could probably get away with about anything if I wanted to. Adam feels sooo bad about it.

It’s another gorgeous start to the day here. I’m fixing to go sit outside for a few minutes before I get going for the day. Adam is stuck at a computer at work all day today. He’s usually out and about, so I know he’s going to hate having to sit inside and miss out on this weather. Maybe we’ll go for another wildflower picking adventure tonight 🙂