Last night was a rough one. Adam came home, and he wasn’t in a bad mood. I’d told him a couple pretty minor things, just because I wanted to know we had a “clean slate”, and I wasn’t keeping anything from him. It was seriously nothing big at all. He wanted to go in “the office”, to “discuss” this. Whatever…I went with it. When he put me over our bed, lifted my sundress, and then pulled my panties down, I got angry. I squirmed and protested. I don’t know what the fuck I wanted. I didn’t want a spanking, because I didn’t feel I’d done anything deserving of that. However, he and I both know, if he had let it go, I’d have taken that a certain type of way. Adam’s been real big on boundaries, lately. I haven’t been able to make him “bend”. I think there’s this internal fight I’m having. I want, hell I need him to be consistent. If he flip flops on rules or boundaries, I don’t respect them the way I do when he’s consistent. The other voice inside me screams, because she’s losing her power. I got frustrated, that all my best efforts couldn’t sway him. Like, dammit…I don’t want to be able to “win”, but yet I’m desperately fighting for power, at the same time. It’s a difficult thing to explain in words.

Adam never wants to be unfair, harsh, or especially, to hurt me. I love him for that. While I didn’t want him to spank me at all, the fact that it was sort of playful and in no way memorable, only added to my frustrations. Why did we have to go through “all of this”, when he clearly didn’t feel it was a big deal either? I felt like he pretended to care about things that he claimed mattered, but didn’t really. Anger and frustration absolutely boiled over inside me. I refused to give Adam any “yes sir”, in response to his questions, when he let me up. I laid on our bed, and stared through him. I gave him no words, whatsoever. He left me in our room. A few minutes later, he returned. He tried to talk to me again, but I continued to simply glare at him. I also blatantly rolled my eyes at him. Finally, I could see his own frustration had reached its max. He walked out, once more. I stayed awhile longer. Then, I went into our bathroom and threw my hair into a high ponytail. It was a mess, after all that had just occurred. I went out to the kitchen, and cooked our supper.

The following few hours, Adam and I barely spoke, except through text messages. I tried to tell him what I was feeling and thinking, but I don’t think I could have processed all of this yet, either. I wasn’t quite sure why I was feeling or acting this way. I didn’t understand much of my own reaction. I didn’t want to “win”. I have periodically had this thought bubble up, if I hold my ground long enough, not even Adam can help me. I haven’t ever made a conscious choice to do it, and I never planned it to happen, but it did. I was disappointed in myself, for my actions. I was also disappointed that Adam seemed to have just given up. I was sad. I was mad, I was confused. I was conflicted. I searched for words, to give clarity to both Adam and myself. I struggled to find them, though. He was upset with me, but I was upset too. I was really hurting. It was such a lonely and miserable feeling, believing I’d convinced my husband not to try anymore.

The truth was, he hadn’t “given up”. He’d given me time to think, and to cool off. He’d given himself time to do the same. I’d gone into our bathroom, to be alone. I didn’t want anyone to see me so upset. Adam and I continued our “text war”. He was in the living room. I sent one particular text to him, where I said, “You can’t handle it if I push back on you? That gives me lots of confidence.” I heard him get up, and heavy footsteps neared our bathroom. The door flew open. He went into our closet, and emerged holding his belt. He sat in front of me, silently daring me to keep pushing him. I wasn’t ready to back all the way down, yet. I softened my tone, and my words, but I ignored the threat he wielded in his hands. He turned on the shower, sat the belt down, undressed, and got in. I followed him in. Our naked shower talks are always the most raw and honest ones. There’s just something about being naked together, with nowhere to hide, that brings all the truths out.

Adam told me I’d put him in an impossible position. He knew, if he let this go, I would repeat what I’d done. He told me, if he let it go, I’d have essentially “cut off his balls”. I don’t ever want Adam to want to hurt me. I don’t like pissing him off. I don’t enjoy getting spanked. What I do want, is to know when he actually freaking means it. I need to believe him. A playful slap on my butt is fine! It’s all in fun. Going through all the trouble to appear serious, and then telling me he’s not really, with a couple little smacks, that frustrates the hell out of me. He wants me to know the difference between when he means it, and when he’s just messing with me. I want to understand, too! In my mind, he was either not serious, when he brought me into “the office”, or he was afraid of me. My protests had weakened his resolve. I could convince him to do whatever I wanted. I truly can convince Adam to do most anything for me, but I don’t want my bitchy, stubborn, arrogance to be one of the ways I’m able to do that. I want to persuade him through careful, thoughtful, respectful words and actions. Despite this awareness I have, I get mad sometimes, and I try him. I try my very worst “tools”, to get what I think I want. Even though, soon, I recognize that wasn’t what I wanted at all. I didn’t want it to work. I want to know that if I push against my “rock”, he won’t budge. I also want to get to a place where I won’t, can’t, or don’t push him anymore.

After an hour in the shower, talking through this mess we’d made, calmer heads prevailed. Adam ended up giving me the very worst spanking I’ve ever gotten.

I’d just stepped out, from the shower. Adam handed me a towel. He said something about needing to “get this over with”. I didn’t get a chance to respond. I hadn’t even gotten my towel wrapped around my body yet. I clumsily attempted to cover my backside with my towel, but he was quicker than me. He sat on the side of our bathtub, pulled me over his knees, and brought his hand down hard and fast. He covered my entire behind with many repeated swats. I was crying out like I’ve never done before. “Owwwwwie!” “Pleeeease” and “NOOO”! When he finally let go of me, I sank down to the floor. I still held my towel in my hands. I covered my face with it, wiping away tears. Adam gave me a minute there, before he reached out his hand for me to grab ahold of. I looked up at him, and hesitated a moment, before taking his hand. He pulled me up. We got ready for bed. It was late. The kids had been in bed for two hours already. When I walked to our bed, Adam was waiting for me. He held the blanket up, for me to climb in next to him. I put my arms around him, for the first time all day, and laid my head on his chest.

He was still home when I got up, this morning. As I stood in the kitchen, loading my Keurig coffee machine with some much needed caffeine drink, he came up behind me. He wrapped his arms around me, and kissed the top of my head. Then, he gave me his sideways grin, and asked me how I slept. I declined to answer, and instead responded with a sigh and a shoulder shrug. I texted him, awhile ago. I apologized for last nights awful mess. He’d claimed I “lied” to him, because when he told me he was going to spank me, I asked him “what’d I do?” We both knew full well why it was gonna happen, but I guess I just wanted to hear him tell me. He continued to insist that I lied to him, pretending not to know why, and that had made the spanking worse. I still think it would’ve been the exact same experience on my behind, regardless of this “so called ‘lie’”…

I’ve got my mantle decorated for summer, now! I love it 😊

Last night was a lot of fun, with Justin and Jackie. We played cornhole, out back. I checked on our baby birds. The birds make nests up under our deck, and I insist on making sure there’s no eggs or babies in them, before Adam removes them. There was one I’d found babies in, so we’re having fun watching them grow.

My son, Wyatt, was sick with a stomach bug. Yesterday, he had a horrible headache, and then started throwing up. My niece, Pj, also came down with this. Today, Wyatt and Pj are feeling better, but my sister is currently sick with this crud, now. So far, nobody else at our house has gotten this. I’m praying it stays that way!

Adam went into work, for a few hours. He said he’ll be coming home around noon. We’re planning to grill some chicken, this evening, and have Justin and Jackie over. We’d hoped to play more cornhole, and hang out outside, but it’s dreary and cloudy. It’s only mid 60’s out, too. If we can’t be outside, I’m sure we’ll find fun inside. Mj is going to help me make some brownies, and the pasta salad I’m fixing for tonight, with supper. We had a quiet Saturday morning, at our house.

Last night, we came inside around 11:00pm, since Adam had to get up and go into work. I was being silly. My dad taught me “pig Latin”, when I was a little kid. We used to talk to each other, like that, a lot. I’ve been saying things in pig Latin, to be a smart ass. I said “eye roll”, in pig Latin, and giggled. I didn’t actually roll my eyes. We were brushing our teeth, and Adam was annoyed. He reached over, and gave me a smack on my behind. I protested. I argued that saying “eye roll”, is not the same as doing it! Adam disagrees. For whatever reason, I’d decided this was a hill I was going to “die on”. A battle I refused to lose. I was not going to retreat from this. I said “eye roll” several times. Each time, Adam spanked me. I wouldn’t give in, though. Then, he put me over our bed, and spanked me hard. He said I was trying to get around his rules, and being disrespectful. After, he climbed into bed, and pulled me close to him. I started to cry. I told him I was just messing around! I was irritated, that he was punishing me for, what I felt was teasing. He never raised his voice, but he wouldn’t let me argue, either. Adam says it’s disrespectful. He says there’s lots of ways I can tease him, without doing or saying disrespectful things. This morning, I can see his point. Although, it’s not that easy to accept. I don’t feel that I’m doing anything wrong. He does. My sore behind, means he wins…

We’re grilling, and spending the evening outside. Justin and Jackie are here. I’m determined to have another fun evening, without a repeat of last night’s ending. Other than that, it’s been a real good weekend!

A couple of pretty flowers
Is what I brought to you
I saw you through a broken window
With a different point of view

You had signs of depression
From a long line of sin
And your face tells a story
Bout the places you have been
I loved you so
I thought you should know

And you feed your addiction
With your crystal meth
And I plead for your life
As it takes you to your death

You make your deal with the devil
As your looks begin to fade
I saw you laughin through the tears
As you slowly slipped away
I watched you go
I thought you should know
Yeah I watched you go
I thought you should know

A couple of pretty flowers is what I brought to you
I saw you through a broken window
With a different point of view…

~Whiskey Myers

Sometimes, the lyrics in a good song do a better job of saying what I’m feeling, than I could. Besides my mother, I’ve watched as several old friends lost everything to addiction. I have also seen more than one friend beat their addiction. You can’t begin to heal your addiction, until you acknowledge it, though. This is why I’m confident my mother won’t. While I wish that could be her story, one that I might even be able to write in again, I very much doubt it. Unfortunately, she’s just too far gone. This is why I’ve wished she’d died, instead of “lived” like this. I can’t put into words how difficult it is to lose a parent. To lose them, but they’re still here. To “lose” her, because she left me. I mean, maybe she never really was with me, anyway? I had such high hopes for us, though. Naive? Ignorant? Selfish? Maybe. But, I had so hoped we’d have a healthy relationship after she’d straightened up, years ago. She never apologized for my childhood. I forgave her, anyway. I did it, because she’d begun to show up for me. I truly believed I mattered, for awhile. I long for that feeling. Being assured that I’m loved. I’m enough. That she might even think I’m great. To know that my mom is proud of me.

If she ever did care, she definitely doesn’t anymore. I’m not sure I can do a good job explaining this, but I’m going to try. While she was here, in my city, I’d worried that she’d try to come to my house. I’d spent those days on edge. Once she was gone, back to where she lives now, I didn’t feel relief. Instead of taking that deep breath, celebrating that stress coming to an end, I felt sad. It hurt me. As much as I didn’t want to have my psychotic, screwed up mother show up at my door, I was deflated when she didn’t. She didn’t even try. She didn’t want to see me. I don’t know how many times I have to be told, I don’t give a shit about you, until I’ll be able to accept that she doesn’t. Logically, I get it. There’s still this little girl inside me, who’s pleading for her mama to want her. I simply cannot rationalize how a mother could do this to her child. I would fight until my last breath, for my babies. I wish I had a mama willing to fight for me…

Thankfully, what I do have, is some amazing people who are here for me. While it’s impossible to replace the missing piece my mother has taken, my life is very full. I’m blessed with a whole lot of love and support. We had a great evening, with Justin and Jackie. We sat out on the deck, enjoying the beautiful weather, and a couple drinks. Adam was running a little late, so I’d offered to go ahead and start the bacon, for our BLT’s. This was his response,

He cooked the bacon, when he got home, and our supper was delicious. Justin and Jackie left around 9:00pm, and then Adam and I went to take our shower. I was in a silly mood. I’m also PMS’ing. I can get a little bitchy, quickly. I didn’t intend to be quite so difficult, but I kinda was. I challenged him on literally everything he said to me. I did this gesture, where you take your thumb to your mouth and flick upward. “I bite my thumb at you” kind of thing. Adam didn’t know what that meant, so I started laughing. This is the point where he had had enough. I could see it immediately. He knew I’d done something offensive, but not exactly what. He wanted me to explain, but I didn’t particularly want to do that, at this point. He was getting angry with me, so I told him. It’s pretty much a different way to flip someone off. I also mentioned that I wished I hadn’t shown him, or told him what it means, so that I could’ve used that the next time he annoys me. I was a little bit arrogant, in the way I talked to him. He noticed. He informed me I’d crossed the line, and he’d had enough. Even then, I wasn’t exactly willing to humble myself, yet. The stubborn in me was taking over. I’d started out only intending to make Adam laugh. Instead, I’d insulted and disrespected him. I know I recognized this, but I wasn’t ready to admit it. I pushed back pretty hard, continuing to allow every single thought I had escape my lips. Adam got very quiet.

When we got out of the shower, Adam handed me the towel I wrap around my hair, and then wrapped a big towel around my body, like he always does. I continued to have an attitude, while we dried off and got our night clothes on. Albeit, a much less intensely disrespectful one. He gave me his sideways grin, and told me I’d find out what he thought in a little bit. He said I wasn’t going to sleep very comfortably, tonight (last night). I glared at him, and told him I had much more fun plans for him. I said I wouldn’t be in any mood for it (sex), if he busted my butt. He said it was a sacrifice he was willing to make, for the greater good. Then, he walked over to me, and spanked me hard and fast, at least 10-15 times. I dropped to the floor, after he released me. I looked up at him and asked him, “Are you done now?!” He walked toward me, with his hand held out for me to grab hold of, so he could help me up from the floor. As he pulled me upright, he told me, “Not even close.” This was when I knew, for certain, he was serious.

We tucked the kids into their beds, and brushed our teeth. I took my sweet time applying lotion to my arms and legs. I put all my face products on. I walked over to my nightstand, by the bed, and put on my lip mask moisturizer that I use every night. Adam was laying in bed. I climbed in, next to him. He put his arm under me, and pulled me closer to him. I thought, for a second, maybe he won’t spank me anymore tonight, now? That thought was barely finished, when he interrupted, asking if I was ready. I gave him a pitiful look, as to silently try and prevent what was coming. In one quick motion, he had flipped me onto my belly. He pulled the t-shirt I was wearing up, my panties down, and spanked me as hard and fast as he had done earlier. I tried to wiggle away, but he had me pinned down good, this time. Just as I was about to cry out, he stopped. I was so relieved it was over, or so I thought. He lectured me, in his stern “dad” voice. That’s what the kids call it, when he’s stern like that. I didn’t hesitate to give him the responses he was looking for, after each question asked. I hoped maybe he would let me up, if I stopped trying to challenge him. It didn’t work. He gave me another painful round of smacks on my backside. This one was even worse than the others had been. I cried, “owwwwwieee”. I know that’s a super childish thing to say, but it’s what often comes flying from my mouth, when something really hurts. That, and “golly”, when I’m frustrated, but don’t want to curse. Finally, Adam released me from his grip. He laid back down. I rolled over and sunk my head into his chest. He wrapped his arm around me, once more, and we went to sleep. Indeed, I did sleep fitfully. Lots of tossing and turning, through last night. At one point, my sleep was interrupted, when Adam patted my butt. It was just one “love tap”, but I immediately cried “OWIEE”. That light little smack actually did hurt, too. Woke me right up from my sleep. He let out a quiet giggle. I refused to say anything more. He just pulled me closer to him, and we went back to sleep.

I need to apologize for my behavior, last night. I need to let him know I am sorry. The dawn of a new day, often shines a different perspective on a situation. I’m clearly seeing how crappy I was treating him, in the shower. I was a bratty, mouthy, cocky wife. Not my best moment. Definitely not how I want to be toward my husband. Submitting isn’t always natural and easy. Sometimes, it’s hard. Even when it’s something I want to do, the temptation to buck against it remains an issue for me, every so often.