Oops

Yesterday, I texted Adam, like I do every Friday, about bills I paid, money I put into various accounts, and all that super fun crap. I’m a saver. We have savings accounts for emergencies, for Christmas and birthdays, one for vacation, for medical bills, we have a couple retirement accounts, we have money invested in a (very uncertain) stock market. Having money set aside helps me to feel safe. My struggle, is there is never “enough” for me to stop worrying! Adam appreciates having money saved, but he prefers me to go over money management with him, before I make decisions. We had a good week, so I’d moved a decent amount into an account that can’t be spent easily. It takes days for money to transfer out of it and into our main account. This prevents any unnecessary, spur of the moment, expensive purchases. Well, Adam has been talking about buying a gas pickup truck to drive to work, instead of his duramax, because diesel fuel is outrageous. He loves his big ol’ diesel pickup, but it’s silly to be using it to get to and from work and spending $900 a month just for fuel to do that. So, we’ve talked about getting another truck he can use. He wanted to go look at one, yesterday. He wanted to be able to buy it, yesterday, if he liked it… I had just transferred that money from our main account. I told him this. He wasn’t happy. I didn’t know he wanted to look at a truck until after I’d told him I moved money, though! I, innocently, mentioned I’d done it, and this was when he informed me. How could I have known? I did try to argue that point, although I was not successful. I showed him my “book”. I keep track of expenses and all our accounts in it. I’m, generally, good at this. Still, I was in trouble.

I worked on him all day long. He was his regular, silly, supportive self. We’d talked on the phone, once. He was in a fine mood. He told me he was proud of me for a lot of other things I’d gotten done that he’d asked me to. I made myself a doctor appointment. Something he’s asked me to do all week. I got all our bills paid. I spoke to someone about a charge that I hadn’t made from my Amazon account. It got resolved. I shampooed the carpets. I got a lot done! Still, every time I asked if I was still in trouble, he would reply yes. I knew he wasn’t angry like when I “side step” the truth to him. I’d hoped maybe he was just going to call me into our room and lecture me and let that be it. I was nervous, anyway. I watched the front door camera, when I knew he’d be arriving home.

We were having, what I call, a “fend” night. Everybody chooses from leftover suppers I’ve saved. I was in the kitchen, setting out everything. Ham and cheesy potatoes, tuna casserole, chicken Alfredo, ribs, and lasagne were all options. The kids were outside, and Jackie was still working, so it was just me. Adam walked into the kitchen. He smiled. I returned a, cautious, half smile. He picked me up, threw me over his shoulder, and carried me into our bedroom. He laid me on our bed and held one hand on my back, while he used the other to pull my pants down. He gave me a few swats with his hand. It stung, but nothing hard enough to leave any lasting marks. I slid down onto the floor. Adam sat down in front of me. He talked to me about why he wants me to discuss things like that with him, before I make decisions with money. He assured me that, he never expects me to justify every dollar I spend. He feels that he deserves to know about things like I’d done, though. I do understand that. He would never spend or move large amounts of money without talking to me first. Yes, I take care of our finances, but that doesn’t mean he shouldn’t be informed about what I intend to do, the same as he does for me.

Later, in the shower, he told me that he hoped I understood that, even though he hadn’t spanked me too hard, or gotten angry, he meant it. I promised that, I absolutely understood. I am well aware that “warnings” like this are not repeated. If I do it again, my behind is going to regret it. I’ve experienced this plenty of times. The rest of our evening was wonderful.

Today, I’m taking the kids to grab a few things they need for Halloween trick or treating. Mj needs some temporary, spray on, red hair dye. We need candy for trick or treaters. So, we’re going to do some shopping. There’s no real plans for the rest of our weekend. Looks like it’s just going to be some family time at home, for the most part. I’m alright with that. ❤️

Sweet & Sour, Emotional Rollercoaster

We had “breakfast” for supper, last night. I am a decent cook, if I do say so myself, but bacon is Adam’s thing. He started the bacon as soon as he got home, while I worked on everything else. After supper, I cleaned up the kitchen, like always. Then, I made myself some arctic white chocolate hot cocoa and stood in the kitchen while I sipped on it and enjoyed a moment to myself. Adam walked in and smacked my behind. I, playfully, “slapped” his cheek. I would never seriously slap my husband. Then, he spanked me about a half dozen times. When he does that, even playfully, in that rapid fire succession, I about go crazy! I don’t want to tell him, but that actually hurts so much more than a few hard ones with a break, in between!! He wasn’t angry. We were just playing around. He asked me if I learned a lesson? I told him, “don’t do this”, and I “slapped” him, again. Ooof. He picked me up and threw me over his shoulder. He spanked me another half dozen or so times, as fast and hard as before. I screeched and climbed down so that I was straddling his waist with my legs and my arms around his neck. Adam called me his “little spider monkey” 😆 I didn’t retaliate, this time. My butt had had enough.

I had a nice afternoon hanging out with my little girl. We watched an old 1990’s Halloween movie with the Olsen twins in it. She was able to return to school today, feeling much better! Jackie had come up to bring Mj some cough drops, and I’ve seen her, in passing, a couple times. Besides that, we really haven’t spoken.

I’m really not just trying to be an asshole and hold a grudge, with Jackie. My struggle, is with the things she was willing to say and do while she was drunk and angry. I’ve overindulged, before. I’ve never done something like the things she did. It makes me feel like I can’t trust. This is something that I went through, with my mother, for years. It took enormous strength to finally cut my mother out of my life. I forgave my “mom” so many times, and I believed her every time she swore she was going to change. Allowing her in my life gave her a window into all of my shit. Good, bad, and ugly. My angry, drunk, and high mother would use those things to hurt me. She knew my struggles, my “skeletons in the closet”. Jackie knows literally ALL of me. I can’t believe she is capable of doing the same things she watched my mother do to break me. I love Jackie. I need her! I’m asking myself if I truly know her, anymore? Can I trust anyone?? What is wrong with me, that I find myself in this situation, again, with another person who is so willing to hurt me? I would absolutely never do that to anyone, let alone my loved ones! I can honestly say, I have never done things simply out of spite, just to hurt someone, in my adult life. As a young and dumb teenage girl, I did some cruel things. I won’t deny that. As an adult, I haven’t even been cruel to my worst enemies. I’m not “built” like that. I must be so naive to assume that the people I love would treat me the same. Jackie has been my very best friend for nearly 20 years. She’s done some shitty stuff. Nothing that’s cut me this deeply before, though. I don’t know what to do. She hasn’t even apologized. I refuse to “let it go” and just pretend like it didn’t happen. I won’t do it. None of this is easy or simple. My kids call her “aunt Jackie”. She’s with us for every birthday, every holiday, through the good and the bad. I’m not sure if I can go through what I did with my mother, again. I wonder if, maybe, I’m too reactive, because of my mother. Maybe I’m being too harsh. I just don’t know. I know that, at the very least, I need Jackie to acknowledge what she did, and be sorry.

Adam knows I’m hurting. He’s been incredibly supportive and sweet. I asked him, “what would you do if Miguel got in my face and talked to me like Jackie did to you?” (Miguel is one of Adam’s best friends). He told me, “Oh, I know what I’d do. And I would have no problem cutting him from my life after I kicked his ass, either.” Then, he paused, and he told me he understands that it’s more complicated than that, for me, with Jackie. We’ve been so close for so long. He said he would support me, whatever I decide to do here. I know he’s not kidding about what he’d do if one of his friends did anything to hurt him or his family. Adam doesn’t tolerate bullshit from anybody. He’s kind and gentle and forgiving, with his family. He’s not like that with people who threaten us. I’ve seen a whole new, expert level of angry come out of him, when it comes to protecting his family. If I let this go, with Jackie, am I not protecting my family? Jackie is family, to me. This is so hard. I’m the type of person who, when I commit to something, I mean it. When I make a decision, a life changing difficult one, I know, in my heart, that’s it. I won’t go back on it. I’m loyal. I’m trustworthy. So, what is the loyal thing to do? Stand by my best friend, and forgive, and trust that this won’t happen again? I gave my mother countless chances. Doesn’t Jackie deserve that? I don’t know? Am I stupid if I trust her again? Am I heartless if I never let her back “in”? So many confusing thoughts, all at once. I wish she would apologize. I wish she could see how much she’s hurt me, and care. I hope she does. I need her to.

Me & My Big Mouth

I opened my big mouth. I said something to Adam that was not, exactly, or even remotely, respectful. He told me, “This is your one warning. It’s the only pass I’ll give you.” I could see that he was struggling with whether it was the right decision to let me slide, even just this once. I was good with it, though. Later, after we’d gone to bed, this came up again. I repeated the thing I had said, earlier, and decided to elaborate. I added some extra “glitter” to something Adam already did not appreciate… He wasn’t amused. He told me he couldn’t let this go. I panicked and told him that felt a lot like “double jeopardy”! He couldn’t put me on trial for the same crime! He wouldn’t bend, this time. He started to climb out of bed. I grabbed onto him and held my arms around his neck, and my legs around his waist, like a damn baby monkey on its mama. I begged him “NO! I don’t want to sleep on my stomach! Pleeeease don’t!” He just said, “I have to.” He held up his hand and told me he could use his hand or his belt. I swear, his hands turn to stone, when he’s punishing me with them. I wouldn’t make that choice, this time. His hand hurts like hell, too! More than the belt ever really has. Even though I know, deep down, the belt could do way more damage, if he wanted it to. He walked toward our closet, where the belts were. I’m still straddling him, doing my best to stop him, but getting nowhere. I jumped down when he opened the closet door. I ran to our bed and jumped onto it. He came toward me, carrying that mother fucking belt in his hand. I continued to plead with him. He told me to turn over. I said no. He pulled me up, his hand under my arm, so that I was standing, facing him. He swung the belt once, twice, three times. I, somehow, wound up on the floor. He rolled me over, onto my belly, and gave me one more.

He took his belt back to the closet while I sat up, on the floor. I tucked my knees up under my chin and laid my head on my knees. He came back to me and told me that he’d caught the belt on his own leg that first one, and it would’ve done a lot more damage, had he not done that. The truth was, it hadn’t hurt that much. The belt scares me so badly, though. I was breathing heavy and fighting myself not to let any tears come. He knows how afraid of that belt I am. He also knows how easily I can bruise. He never wants to seriously harm me. It seems that he goes back and forth between, either feeling like he was too harsh, or too soft. I sat on the floor, with my head resting on my knees, until he reached down and picked me up. He put me up on our bed. Then, he climbed in and covered both of us up. He pulled me into his arms while I continued to breathe heavily and worked to calm myself down. We didn’t say anything more. I woke up twice, through the night. Both times, I laid there and let myself cry in the dark. I’m not sure if I can explain the things I felt. I just needed to let myself cry.

This morning, I texted Adam and I told him I was sorry. He wrote me back thank you. Awhile later, I sent another text message with a more elaborate description of why I understood I was wrong. He text me we’re good. I wrote, ok. He replied, seriously, baby. And, that was the end of that.

I hate his belts. Yea. It’s plural now. Two belts. Equally terrifying. Also, I need to learn how to quit while I’m ahead. I do “push it”, with Adam. We’ve discussed this. He understands that it isn’t always easy for me to realize I’m losing my power, with him. He isn’t afraid of me, at all. It’s such a mixture of emotions, for me. Frustration and comfort. Fear and security. He’s, most certainly, assuring me that he is here, there, and everywhere. I can try to push him away, but he will stand firm. I can attempt to pull away from him, but he will hold me close. These recent spankings are no joke. I have two marks on my upper thigh leftover from that belt. Adam isn’t fooling around. I think I’m starting to realize this. Holy hell. I do have a high pain threshold. This doesn’t make it easy for Adam. I have still never cried from the physical pain of a spanking. It’s what it does to me, emotionally, that gets me. Adam always tells me that he gets no pleasure from seeing a bruise on my behind leftover from a spanking he’s given me. Having said that, I’m pretty certain that if I lie to him, or even “sidestep” the truth again, there’s a good chance I end up with an even worse looking butt the next day! I feel like, the next time I’m in trouble, I’ll probably start bawling before the first smack on my behind. I’m no longer afraid about what he might do. I’m afraid of what he will do.

I’m Not a “Submissive”

I’m a little bit confusing, sometimes, even to myself. I’m just not one of those ladies who’s, very often, cool with saying “whatever you say, dear”. I’m very stubborn, hard headed, incredibly sassy. I’m actually pretty good at being funny. I make my family and friends laugh, a lot. They also know me as someone who ain’t afraid to tell ya what I think. I have no problem standing up for myself or the people that I love. I didn’t seek out a man like Adam. At least, not consciously? I never had to ask him to be who he is. He’s never asked me not to be who I am, either. He knows damn well how I roll! I think he’s attracted to it, most times. He’s never suggested that he wants to “change me”. He wants me to treat him the same way as I, honestly, want to treat him. It’s what I want when the rational, calm, reasonable, sane “me” is in charge of my thoughts and my actions.

In a way that’s difficult to explain in words, I think that I subconsciously want people to fear me. Like, I need them to know they can’t fuck with me. I will fight you, and I will win. That’s not to suggest that I haven’t lost any “fights”. That’s the point. If a dog growls and barks, most people are afraid and just stay the hell away from them. It often works to just appear intimidating. This is built into me. I defy anyone who tries to tell me to do something I don’t want to do. These things make it difficult for me to “allow” Adam to lead if I don’t feel like it. It truly isn’t because I think it’s funny to be an asshole. I don’t enjoy disappointing my husband. I might be even more proud of myself, when I do something right, that was hard for me, than Adam is! It takes a whole lot for me to “submit” to him, even in small ways, sometimes. I do want to! I love to make Adam feel good. Good about me, and especially about himself. He’s probably the most patient man I’ve ever known. Thank God, because I would frustrate the living hell out of most guys who expect a wife who follows their lead. That just ain’t me, always. Sometimes it is. I can be the things both Adam and I are looking for. I have to work so hard to get there, though. This is why I used the analogy about the bag of marbles and how, Adam pulls one out every time I screw up, and eventually, I’ll run out of marbles. Then what? Will he throw his hands up and say “she’s never going to get there”, and walk away? You’d think these fears would encourage me to stop screwing up! It’s just not that easy!

I truly do appreciate that he’s calling me out. I don’t always enjoy it, but I do appreciate it. There are times, just hours after he’s spanked me for something, I’ll fucking do it again, and I’m in my own head thinking “what the hell is wrong with you?!” I have to decide whether to be honest, which is very important to both of us, or whether it’s too dangerous to admit this screw up, now? I’m not going to pretend like I’m not afraid of what might happen to my behind, because I definitely am, but I’m also deeply afraid that he will be so disappointed, so frustrated, he will give up on me. If I hold a secret in, even one so stupid that it’s ridiculous, it eats away at me so bad. For reasons I don’t even understand, I’ll get angry. I’ll take it out on, of all people, Adam. Stupid? Yes. Logical? Nope. But, it’s what the hell I do!

I worry that maybe Adam will start to pay too much attention. Maybe he’ll start to see things in me that he can’t “fix”. I understand that I’m never going to be perfect. That’s impossible. I just worry that my imperfections will be so highlighted, he’ll think I’m too much. These are my thoughts when I have to tell him I did something that I know he isn’t going to be happy about. Well, I think about what he’s going to do, too. Like, how mad is he, really? Am I going to have to sleep on my stomach? Is he just trying to scare me, and my ass is fine? Did I fuck up so bad, that now he’s just done trying? He can assure me every five minutes that he won’t give up on me, and it still doesn’t seem to change this thought process for me. We were trying to figure out an approximate amount of times we’ve had sex, the other night. We guessed somewhere around 4,000 times. Even still, sometimes, I worry that he won’t find me attractive. So, by that logic, I may screw up and get 4,000 spankings and still be afraid he’s going to get tired of my bullshit!

I think I have made big improvements. I have brought so much more to Adam than I would’ve ever done, not too long ago. I do trust him. My gosh, I really do. Why can’t I trust that he won’t leave me the next time I screw up? That’s dumb. I know it. Logical, rational, sane me knows it. There’s this piece of me that I can’t quite seem to “fix”, or maybe “heal”?

I don’t know if I’ll ever stop doing the shit I do. My realistic goal, is to do it much less. Believe it or not, I am getting there. It’s kind of sad how much unacceptable crap I have been accustomed to doing, until recently. Adam is insisting that I don’t keep doing some of the things that I’ve literally always done. I can’t change, overnight. That doesn’t mean I’m not trying to do better. To be better. I am.

I ALMOST Got Away With It

Thursday evening, Adam text me that he was dropping something our friend needed off at his house and then would be heading home. An hour later, I text him and asked if he was heading home yet? Nothing. I sent 2 more texts with no response and finally called his phone. It went to voicemail. I called Biscuit and he answered. I asked him if Adam had been there yet? Adam got on the phone and teased me by saying “no”, but I recognized his voice and I told him “you bastard!” About five minutes passed and my phone started to ring. It was Adam, calling from his phone. I hit the ignore button. He text me that wasn’t nice. I waited exactly twenty minutes before I replied. We had a bit of back and forth.

I guess Biscuit got to talking and Adam had left his phone in his truck. Still!!! If I’d done that exact same thing to him, he would be upset with me. Truth be told, I was upset. I wasn’t so angry that I had lost complete control of my temper or anything, though. I decided I was going to “push it” a little bit. Just to see. He knew he’d done screwed up. How far can I take this, I wondered?

When Adam finally came in the door, it was after 7:00pm. The kids and I had already finished supper. I left it out for him and he fixed himself a plate. I could tell he was feeling guilty. He didn’t walk in with that typical confidence he carries when he knows he’s right. I walked over to him and put my hands on my hips while I lectured him about making me worry that something had happened. Ever since that day his phone got smashed, I’ve had a panic rise up inside of me when I know he should be able to respond. I expected him home long before he made it in. I wouldn’t have been upset had he just brought his phone with him, answered me, and explained that Biscuit was asking for his help fixing a car he’s working on. Adam admitted that he should’ve watched the time and known I’d be starting to worry. He admitted he should’ve had his phone on him and let me know. Then, he lectured me for ignoring him and for refusing to say I love you back to him. He went into our bedroom and came back out carrying the belt in his hand. The kids were outside playing. Jackie wasn’t home. It was just us in the living room. I argued that wasn’t fair! He handed it to me and told me to “give it my best shot” and then it was his turn. I swung and smacked him across his butt as hard as I could. I get no satisfaction, though. He never even winces. He took the belt from me and gave me a couple smacks across my bottom. It was lighthearted.

A little later, we were getting ready to get in the shower, and Jackie had text me. I opened my phone. Adam saw where I’d text her earlier “he’s still in suck up mode. Not sure how long I should play this out lol”. Adam wasn’t very happy about that. He felt like I was just being a brat and, as he put it, trying to break the ground he stands on and feeling like, for the most part, I succeeded. He brought his belt back out from our closet and gave me a couple of hard smacks across my bare behind. I woke up this morning with a bruise across my behind and upper thigh that matches the width of that belt. It isn’t a terrible bad bruise. But it’s obvious where it came from! Now, I have to sit in the car for 8-9 hours while we drive to his mom’s house for the weekend…

Pebbles & Boulders

Yesterday afternoon and evening’s conversation with Adam…

Then, this morning’s conversation.

And, part of my talk with Jackie yesterday before Adam got home.

I really really took time to think about why it’s so hard for me to just tell Adam shit sometimes. Especially knowing he will never be angry or mean to me when I’m just up front. It’s probably a control thing, to be honest. I’m fighting for it, whether I truly want that power or not. I’m still convinced that he will let shit slide the way he used to (at least the last few years). He’s been much more “strict” than he was ever before, too. We talked last night and he never wants to abuse his authority, but he also says he’s not going to back down when he knows it’s time to stand up. Which, I mean, I get that. There are fragments of time, for me, where I just don’t feel like going along with Adam’s instructions. Not because I think he’s wrong, mostly just because I guess I’m that stubborn? I don’t quite know. This morning, something came up that I wasn’t excited to tell him about. Nothing that was my doing, just life crap I didn’t want to dump on him. I did tell him right away, though. I told him I feel like I don’t want to keep handing him these “pebbles”, because even small ones start to get heavy. He told me that he can handle all the shit I give to him just fine, but he’d much rather I hand him pebbles than stand here waiting til I’m throwing a boulder at him. Ok…makes sense. I don’t like to weigh him down with stuff that I think I can handle myself. He tells me that’s his job. I suppose this is my personal struggle to get right with. Well, with Adam’s help, anyway.

Freedom Rings on Saturday!

I pray that my greatest achievement in life is to have given my babies a childhood that they don’t ever have to recover from. I know that they’ve already seen things that hurt them. I understand I can’t shelter them from all of the pain life throws at everyone. I just hope to God that, when they look back, I am remembered as their safe place. That home is always a place they can go to for comfort and love.

I shared yesterday’s blog post with Adam last night. He has witnessed much of it, but I’d never really talked much about that part of my childhood. Just a couple of years ago, he was the one calling 911 while I hid upstairs with our kids because my mother was trying to break a window to get inside our house. He’s seen plenty. I know this is why I didn’t write much here for long periods of time. Not only because I wasn’t in a place where I could write about my life. Also because Adam was so busy trying to protect me and do everything he could to help me get through it, he wasn’t holding me accountable very often. I believe it hurts him almost as much as it hurt me because he can’t make it all better. We moved, which helped a ton. My mother has no idea where we live now. It’s only been recently that Adam has begun to hold me more accountable for things. This, I’m sure, is why I push him lately. We have sort of started over after a long “break”. When Adam called me into our bedroom a few days ago, Jackie had taken the kids downstairs. She told me our son was saying “oh, they’re having one of their talks” and made another comment about how Adam was using his dad voice, so he knew mama was in trouble and he felt sorry for me. I thought it was cute. He’s been on the receiving end of plenty of Adam’s “talks” when he’s in trouble as well. It doesn’t bother me if the kids understand that their dad is in charge of everyone, even mama. I used to worry that they might respect me less if they knew Adam could call me into our bedroom and use the “dad voice” on me too. They clearly know that he does, though, and they’re still plenty afraid of their mama!

I have ONE more day until I’m no longer being scrutinized for every single purchase I make!! Adam told me I can go shopping with Jackie on Saturday. Yesterday was her birthday. We already have plans for the places we’re going this weekend. Hobby Lobby, for sure. We’re also going to hit up a few thrift shops so we can hunt for treasures that we can repurpose into beautiful things again. I can’t wait!!!

What’s in it for Me?

I have probably discussed this in some form already here, but I’ve been thinking about the things that Adam has brought into our marriage and how I now feel I couldn’t possibly live happily without them.

Just what do I get out of my relationship with my take charge, alpha husband? So, so much. The trust we’ve built didn’t happen overnight, but it has developed so beautifully into this deep and solid security knowing that Adam is never going to leave me stranded, alone, or afraid. I can be confident that, no matter what mess I find myself in, I won’t be stuck there by myself. There is also such a relief that comes from the well deserved spankings that I can count on. The guilt, the sadness, the remorse, the frustrations, it sort of readjusts my attitude in a way that makes me feel certain that Adam will be helping to right my wrongs. I feel confident that everything will be ok. I can let go of anger and hurt I’ve put out there. There is a tremendous relief that comes from all of these assurances. Life can get hard. Sometimes, it feels like you’re carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders. For me, though, I never have to carry a burden by myself. In fact, most often, Adam completely removes from my shoulders all of the weight I carried. Im not a naturally “submissive” person. It took time for me to have this confidence I do now. I used to refuse to give over any of my problems or worries for fear that they wouldn’t be handled right, or would be made worse somehow. It takes a hefty heap of trust to take the passenger seat and allow your partner to figure out where you’re going, and how you’re going to get there. None of this means that I’m never in the “driver’s seat” for myself. Of course I’m capable, willing, and happy to tackle many things on my own. It’s the big stuff I’m talking about. The stuff that keeps you up at night worrying. The stuff that makes your stomach tie in knots. There is such a beautiful thing that happened for me when I finally allowed myself to give Adam these worries. The better I got at sharing my problems, the better he got at helping to solve them. I truly believe it takes real strength to follow your partner, especially in the beginning. The uncertainty about whether and how he’ll go about leading. Questioning every move he makes for awhile. It’s amazing what happens when you finally just step back and have a little faith in him ❤️

Self Discipline

Apparently, my recent trips across Adam’s lap have revived my ability to self censor my words and choices beautifully. Twice over the last week, I’ve felt that burning desire to say something disrespectful because I was frustrated and didn’t agree with his opinion on the matter. Twice, I have crept up toward crossing the line, and twice, I stopped myself before I got there.

Last night, I passionately disagreed with something. I’m vehemently against sharing personal information with anyone without a darned good reason. By “personal information”, I mean things as simple as giving PetCo my phone number. But, I also am talking about allowing any company to access my medical or financial records, etc. Our health insurance company suddenly required a crazy ridiculous amount of crap to verify our eligibility for Blue Cross. We’ve never had to provide such documents before now, and we’ve always had health coverage. They wanted our birth certificates, our children’s birth certificates, our marriage license…which I was already reluctant about until I heard good reasons for these things. Those documents prove that we are married and our children are ours. I guess I get that, but it’s strange all of the sudden to require things we’ve never been asked for before. It isn’t just us, either. Adam’s entire company asked this of every employee. After providing all of that, they then wanted a copy of our TAX RETURN. Why, pray tell? Well, according to the first representative I spoke to, it is required to show that Adam is not insuring his sister or a relative masquerading as his wife. Ok, but…. they have our marriage license. And they have our birth certificates. Our parents are not the same people. They have our kid’s birth certificates, proving their father and mother are, indeed, Adam and I. I argued these points and they then said it was to verify Adam and I live at the same address. I said, mail me a letter and I’ll mail it back to ya then! Besides all that, we’re clearly married, what difference does it truly make whether we live at the same address as each other? Which, of course, we do. It’s the principle of it all that grinds my gears so badly. They were willing to accept a joint bank statement with our names, address, and the date printed on it. I took the time to edit our statement to block access to our account number, our credits and debits, and our balance because it’s frankly, none of their damn business. Adam was perfectly willing all along to fax our health insurance providers all of the information they asked for, but I clearly wasn’t. This is where I get to report on how well I handled my disagreement, despite having such a guttural reaction to being violated so personally, for reasons that make no sense to me. I did not raise my voice. I did not curse as I explained my position on the matter. I calmly, but very seriously, laid out my reasoning and opinions. This was when Adam finally picked up the phone and called them. This is how we finally resolved the issue by turning over a bank statement with personal information blocked out, rather than our freakin’ income tax return.

I’m sure this will seem petty to some folks. I know I’m a little overboard at protecting my privacy. I won’t allow anything to be handed over without definite and clear reasons to do so. That’s just who I am. I guess I have some trust issues with the world, but can you blame me? Look at how many people are devastated because of leaked personal information! Surely, I’m not completely alone in feeling the way I do. Either way, this was our most recent disagreement, and I think I handled myself well. After we’d finished dealing with Blue Cross, Adam pulled me into his arms. For a brief moment, I was afraid he was about to give my behind some attention. Instead, he hugged me and told me he was proud of me and thanked me for not losing my cool. He might not agree with the extent at which I protect myself from prying eyes, but he understood that this was something I feel strongly about and is important to keeping me feeling safe. We worked it out. Although, I’m still super annoyed about the supposed reasoning for the request from Blue Cross, I’m fully content with my husband and we managed to stay on the same team through it all. ❤️

Danger ⚠️

When we talk about the 4 Ds (disobedience, disrespect, disobedience, and danger), I almost never do anything in the “dangerous” category. I’m pretty responsible and love my family way too much to do anything that puts them at risk in some way. I need to be a good example to my children, too. I wear my seatbelt always. I never text and drive. I don’t always go exactly the speed limit, but never had a speeding ticket and always go along with the flow of traffic at about 5-10 miles over the limit. Danger is just not normally something that gets me into trouble. Except yesterday. Curiosity got me, I did something stupid, and I knew better.

There’s one guy in our neighborhood who hangs with some shady characters. One of which, has been in a lot of trouble lately for things like stalking, domestic abuse, harassment, threats, and then last weekend, he ended up having the police and an ambulance take him out of the yard due to suicidal/homocidal threats. We were out back at our house and witnessed all of this, and spoke to our neighbor after the they had left so we learned all the details. Well, after he returned, both our neighbor and Mr dangerous walked across the back yards into ours and Adam kicked Mr dangerous off our property. Told him he needs help. Go get help. But stay away from his family.

This brings us to yesterday’s incident. The day before yesterday, we were informed that Mr danger had been to court and then put in jail. When I saw him over at neighbor’s just the very next day, I was curious. I walked over and made some small talk because I wanted to hear Mr dangerous side of things. Everything I’d heard was second and third person. How did he get out of jail? Why was he actually even sent to jail? It was stupid. I don’t know why I cared. I was out in my back yard with our puppy and saw Mr danger and our neighbor and, at the time, it seemed like a good idea to go chat them up. By now, y’all can probably see where this is going…

I was only gone for about 45 minutes, and Adam doesn’t usually get home from work until later. Yesterday, of course, he happened to be home early. I walked in the back door and bumped right into him. He asked me where I was. I told him, over at the neighbor’s house. He asked who was there. I knew he knew the answer to that question, and it was only then that I stopped to realize I had gone so far over the line. Adam made it clear he doesn’t want this guy around his family. I didn’t respect that. I disobeyed. I disrespected. And I was crossing the line right into dangerous. I typically get defensive when these things happen, even when I know I’m not going to win. I tried to downplay the situation. It didn’t work. Then, I tried admitting it was wrong and apologizing. It didn’t prevent me from being punished, though. I can go for months without getting spanked for punishment. I have somehow managed to find myself bent over my husband’s knees, crying and begging, twice in just the last week or so. This was also the first time he’s ever used his belt on me during a serious spanking. That sucker HURTS like HELL! I screwed up. It wasn’t undeserved. But, my gosh I’m fixing to be on my very best behavior for at least awhile because I don’t want that belt ever again.