New Beginnings

Today I/we/the whole family got a reprieve. I haven’t yet grasped the gravity of it. I was so beyond sad about the news of going blind in an unpredictably semi- short time period. The perceived loss was devastating. The waiting for a second opinion felt torturous. My ability to make a quality  life for myself was an unimaginable gauntlet.

 

My parents (the good ones) went to work immediately and found me a very skilled specialist who said with ease I’m not going blind – although there are issues; they look hopeful and carry some to-be-considered risks. The doctor asked me about several things related to stress. He came right out and asked about my anxiety level “what do you do for a living” “do you currently have stressors in your life” “did you have things in your passed”. He was searching for a probable/tangible source.

 

I’ve answered this question to doctors before (my endocrinologist – just recently) I fielded that questions with ‘gentle sarcasm’, “I definitely am anxious! It took generations of very crazy people to get me to the point of believing I swallowing too loud and need to knock it off.”  He had a light chuckle for me then looked over at D transporting an important message I chose to ignore. I have felt boxed into this buzzing mind-body connection. I have learned to disguise it better, polish my interactions with people.

 

After we got the good news, we began calling and messaging our loved ones. I have a “chosen sister,” CS, with whom I share many things. She actually dropped everything, flying in, and comforting me last week when she heard the bad news. I’m beyond happy with never-dreamed-of support.

 

When we talked about how everything had changed for the better, we discussed seeing everything in the future – grandchildren, vistas, facial expressions and I knew I could tell her how happy I was about restarting my new business again. It was put on hold for an undetermined amount of time, maybe forever. Now I could jump right back to being “me,” right where I left off. Just as we were about to do a parallel symbolic jump up and down like girls at the playground holding hands and laughing with joy, D stopped his conversation with his mom to say, “Wait on this, we need to talk.” It was a time-stopping moment. I can still feel it now. I repeated it to CS. We were silently confused but quickly returned to jumping up and down about the good news. We’d talk tomorrow we said (which is today).

 

D has a talent of speaking softly and guiding us all to what appear to be our own conclusions. His careful approach gives way for those ‘ah ha’ moments of clarity and acceptance.

 

“Hey Honey, you mind looking up something for me? ….So what’s a type A personality?” I cringed a little because I was waiting for the wait-we-need-to-talk brakes on my new business conversation to uncomfortably emerge. Instead of rattling off my own accurate definition, I actually looked it up along with my diagnosis and found too many studies that put together more than I wanted to know. I laid my chair way back, D had thoughtfully brought a blanket for me and I was alone with my thoughts, for a few hours. Here were some of them later squashed by D:

 

Oh great, I’m wrapped too tight and can’t pick up where I left off.

I’m a loser – defined by someone who does next to nothing!

I’ve been swimming against the current since year one – and now you want me to tread water and figure our where I can swim to improve me health?

 

Over time I knew I was too mature to pity myself. Beating me up was an easy, old habit. Reality crept in very slowly. Here were some of those thoughts:

 

In utero I experienced destined hell. My DNA jackal: Mommy Dearest made Crawford look like a good parent in comparison. Her parents were truly the gnarled crushing oak trees I was pushed off on constantly.

 

Desperate to create my private, happy life, I initially struggled to unsuccessfully keep physically and emotionally away from away from Mommy Dearest and her henchmen

 

Over riding every moment (I could manage) to control my sad emotions, rage and terror my health has taken the hit and continues to do so

 

 

Now I have total responsibility to learn how to relax – to reduce my stress, anxiety. I have to learn to get myself calm at the very core. So that talking and thinking and reacting much more slowly will feel natural. My health depends on it. My condition is chronic. I could easily get worse. Based on the tests/films (previously unknown until yesterday) I have had this off and on many times, an old type of scarring can create blindness long term. So I’m back to where I was two weeks ago to the day, but with a choice, a chance. The above conversation we had in the garage once we arrived. The one below was the second gentle quite talk once we were in bed holding each other:

 

I told D how I need him now more than ever. How our lifestyle choices have brought us to the point where my need to hear him is imperative. I found it all too telling that I managed to ignore what the doctor was saying to me: YOU’VE GOT TO SLOW DOWN. Because I don’t have the worlds most stressful job, because I don’t have a job, I have to go back to my reality: chronic abuse – the flight or flight chemicals constantly battle ramming your system create a multitude of negative physical reactions over time. I’ve had two serious systems go south, my eyes are the retrievable but with my best lifestyle changes, it wont’ be the third.

 

So I’m no longer playing ‘See! I’m normal too! J  So love me, like me… let me run at your pace, play all your reindeer games while I kill little parts of me keeping up.’

 

For the first time in my life, I have to consider how my life can be changed to become healthier calming my heart, my physical inner core. I need to be thoughtful while putting my world together – considering all the events that have made me and brought me to this place.

My Friday with my … Spanker? NO! Think “Sexually Exhonerated Xylophory”

Spanker sounds so cheap in comparison of what my mind can do with how he does it. So I’ve made up a term Sexually Exhonerated (the legal dictionary spelling – relevant in this case) Xylophory (wood-carrying, carrier). Along with this eloquent term I hope you’ll enjoy my indulgent writings of my Friday on your Monday!

Twenty candles, a melt-your-heart fire and some Knob Creek Bourbon, for me, began our Friday night alone. It’s been that kind of week; I needed to leave my head. I went through the motions guided by the energy of the room, the long sleeved crimson lace and I waited for the perfect storm to arrive. My mood evolved as a result of my surroundings and a desperate need to forget, for just a time. Movement and need on that level render me silent. His words carry us both. It was transcending and beautiful and like an addict, I’d go back there in a heartbeat. I still remember opening my eyes, wanting to create a more permanent memory, and seeing us lit by a gentle glow.

Totally seduced we were in another time and place, even in another medium. I thought of a mermaid floating gently, feeling the ocean everywhere beside and inside me. I anticipated nothing and enjoyed everything. There was a gentle but disappointing decrescendo. I found my mermaid tail was guiding me to the unexpected surface after I heard his very controlled voice, “I want you to find yourself a very comfortable position on all fours; you’ll be there awhile.” I felt mildly confused reconciling leaving direct sexual enjoyment for the indirect – spanking. A while back I mentioned I need him to consider bringing on something more than a leather paddle. He’s decided the cane is for more severe offenses. I collect vintage kitchen tools. I’ve received a gift that has two matching handled heavy paddle used for making lard cakes or soap. He thought it was a funny as the giver. The giver seemed a bit taken back when her husband picked one of them up, examined it, made a telling joke; then he proceeded to demonstrate the successful form necessary to get the job done properly. Knowing I was going to be the recipient, I wanted to vanish into thin air! The giver giggled, quite pleased with her husband’s impromptu lesson. I always get a little anxious standing in that moment of knowing there’s a gap between my daily confidence and  that painfully vulnerable woman our bedroom.

Back to Friday night:  I was looking around, not too many choices on the couch, but I find a strategic one offering grip, and god forbid an opportunity to bit for my attempted muted noises. Somehow hearing myself is unnerving. After several ‘are you sure you’re comfortables’ he sounded a bit evil when he said, “Depending on your cooperation we’ll see how it all ends.”  I knew he had not finished making love to me. With his incredible self-control, the transformation between my physical form, and his function as my spanker, husband, disciplinarian, lover, seducer; started.

Feeling all the confusion allotted a porcelain teacup in the jungles, gracing the lips of the privileged, I re-readjusted myself into his assigned position of comfort. His thoughts were obviously specific as he began with full intent. My fingers gripped away all the stuffing on the arm seam of the leather couch, unable to intellectually separate the sting and weight. Ever the competitive one, I was stellar at maintaining myself in perfect form. But he was breaking through something somewhere. I reared up from a couple of exceptionally stinging swats. He had me back down. It happened a few time until I realized I was heading into a less the comfortable ending of our lovemaking. It’s amazing what you can purpose your body to do. A contest of wills on such private and vulnerable levels never ceases to be intriguing. D had had enough of the ‘intrigue’ and was happy to end things between us without further struggles. It was a night I’ve held onto and will as I face the days ahead.

 

Energy for the Important Things ;)

Yesterday I do have to share the I asked for my records. They were kind but couldn’t even copy just one pad on the copier even though I’d signed releases. Yeah yeah, I get it, but I also get that I’m anxious about this and I just needed to take it home and study it over. I had to see another doc, they handed me my records and I made pit stop and took pics with my phone! I was too proud of myself for being so resourceful. I stood my ground when confronted. We have rules here (of course it has to be a guy who always wanted to grow up to be an assassin right?!). We did come to an understanding that each of us had a job to do and we respectfully understood that. I kept snapping. He didn’t alert the security officer. So I took the records and reviewed them for hours. I love to control and want to know everything  I’m capable of before I see another doctor. D and I have been exhausted, emotionally telling our parents on Sunday and Monday.

This kind of stress doesn’t lend itself to sex. Until yesterday evening. I felt so overwhelmed moving passed the hand puppet med info where I’m quite comfy. Now I’m  into reading conference presentations with my diagnosis and thinking – wow this is just perfect!! And I thought dealing with Amber’s teen years and starting a new business would be a challenge. OH and lets not forget to add in there D’s live in a board room and the onset of peri menopause – sighs…. whines… and yada yadas….

D’s been giving me those reassuring pats and I’ve been yearning for more than that in my head knowing I’m a zombie at present.We brushed our teeth. D moved passed me putting his hand on my behind and doing that pat thing that is comforting and can be taunting. I took is hand and pushed his fingers next to one another and redirected (I love to control.. sighs) his pats to show him what I was thinking of. When I finished I tossed my jeans on the floor and stood there with a longish shirt reminding him that my body was still around. We dusted off those smiles and headed toward bed thinking that we would get around to sex the next day. I wasn’t paying attention to D, getting myself ready for the night and next day. I finally jumped in bed before D (which never happens).  Amber knocked wanting to say goodnight, a new ‘habit’ since we told the kids on Saturday.  Amber asked D something. I looked over to see  had on his only his button down Levis (one of my favorite ways to appreciate the many beautiful things about a man’s body). I couldn’t believe that I was seeing: a man who was really handsome, and definitely hot. Call it bad eye sight, low level lighting, rose colored glasses, or maybe his wonderfully dark-haired chest (the grays are coming some day I know), but he looked so handsome! I of course had to say it out loud. To which Amber said, “OK that is disgusting! I’ll leave you two alone!” and with an eye roll that roller coaster architects would have been jealous of, she pivoted back to her bedroom, no doubt to sleep with her ear phones in and turned up extra loud. She was instructed to do this about the time that the older kids found out that D and I were into spanking.

We didn’t have the energy for that, but we did have enough energy to really hope that Amber did follow instructions. We started out with me sharing that I’d just bought thee very first translation of the Kama Sutra and my very fav ‘fun’ book Exit to Eden by Anne Rampling (Rice). Wow! She has a talent for using the psychology behind everything in the D/s world to show the incredible growth between lovers. It is a romance novel about two people who find true love based on their abilities to accept control in all it’s understandings.

Tomorrow I have a great friend flying in to be with me. It’s good and bad because we both need to laugh and will undoubtedly cry. We’ve talked so much about our moving closer – real plans – and well, from today’s view point, it all looks a bit different. We will have a wonderful time. Somehow we manage to Rumpelstiltskin all of our ‘straw’ moments.

But I’ll leave you with this:

I had just received the email from my friend about her flight information. I was heading up to school to drop some forgotten item to Amber – whose memory is very good (we’re all so stressed – sighs) I then had to run to the docs office, late now because of Amber’s need. But I kept very calm and basked in what my friend and I would do when she arrived. I drove around a beautiful wooded area with tall hemlocks, rocks, and a creek to find the sun spreading his fingers through the glass branches. It was breathtaking. I wish you could’ve seen it. I won’t forget it.

Whoops late for noon email to D and still in my bathrobe – yikes!! My guest room’s dusty!

Telling the Kids

D has been incredible. Protective doesn’t quite describe his actions. I can apparently do nothing. He likes me at his side. It’s expected I’ll join him with errands outside the house. And I understand. Frankly it feels easier to be the one, then to watch someone go through their tough times. I made some calls and had it confirmed on Friday. I felt it was all pretty sketchy on Wednesday. So my call was to be returned within the hour. (I was on the road when I made the call – “look D, no hands!” — a big rule around here now!)

I pulled into a beautiful area waiting seemed more scenic than the parking lot at the Y where I was headed to swim. The barn was old and functional. (I try not to relate!). I saw horses there only a few times in the many years I’ve driven passed. For reasons that, to me, seemed a gift, a dozen horses were being let out for the day. Being pent-up all night they felt the excitement of the day.  They antics were great; they bucked for fun, and rolled and wiggled (it’s always the white ones who love to compromise the color of their coats!) while their hooves pointed to a blue spring morning sky. The Canadian Geese, who stubbornly claim territory had sense to take flight as the ground shook and the horses snorted loudly. I watched, then thought of taking a picture or two. But instead I committed it to my memory. I’ve decided to keep a visual library in my head of the pictures of our lives. I can’t hang on to most of it, but I can be selective and try.

D managed to gather the kids, to tell them that I’ve got between 3 months and 3 years  before I’ll lose my sight. The periphery will remain somewhat. I’m feeling calmer about it now. Last night was hard. Listening to music evokes emotions I can’t harness. I’ve decided that it’s not worth it – to harness, control, appear to be ‘ok’. I know that I need to put major effort into finishing some precious projects I thought I could do ‘later’. You know, I’ve been through more than a few scares over the years. But I never saw this coming. The kids called and texted D after his group text request went out. It may sound awful, but everyone’s in various work schedules. And since they don’t report in daily, we often become loving ‘text-ents’. They called him back when they could. I heard him say things like, “No, no one died!” and “Your mom’s pregnant” and “It doesn’t involve cancer your mom’s had some changes occur and we need to talk”. I was shaking like mad. The day before my good friend called, we talked, cried then laughed together. I had to ask really basic questions. Her answers are always simple and brilliant. She manages to blow away the smoke with her wisdom. So I felt prepared for our meeting tonight. I managed to throw on make up and practice a smile before I went downstairs with my spring colored shirt on. I really needed some black to hide in; I actually tried on a huge sweater but put it back knowing D asked me to stop pretending to be Johnny Eeyore Cash. ( I have been known to wear black as an unconscious message that I’m depressed. D decided I’m not to don an unhealthy mood like a dysfunctional marques. So I begrudgingly removed it and walked my mint green shirt through some signature Mommy perfume to ease their pain .

D was standing at the head of the  kitchen table and began with, “Your mom and I wanted you to be”.

Which is when I cut him off with, “Honey can you sit down?” I didn’t look up and I heard nothing from him. I’m sure I really interrupted his forced momentum.” …please?”  I started the afternoon shaking, my heart pounding. It continued up to that moment a symptom of feeling vulnerable, nervous and just plain heartsick. I had a sick feeling about all the implications and relational issues being blind would create for the kids. The last thing you want at the age of twenty(ish) and mid teens, is to think that your parent needs you! It’s the era of independence.

I wanted D, no, I needed D next to me. But he had chosen to stand. It fit him in that moment; he was leaning forward a bit, casually gripping the top part of the arms of the chair. It felt wrong somehow, too awkward, formal, disjointed somehow and I panicked inside. I didn’t think, or consider him, just me. I can’t imagine how he felt, how he’s been feeling. But I had to make it all seem right. It was awful enough, I had to be the wife who bends her Ken doll so her emotional OCD can loosen it’s grip, as if it is leaving town.

“You want me to sit down?” His questions was said with the subtle ‘eyebrow’ tone of voice.

“Yes,” sensing his royal domliness was rising of all times, now! geesch, “I want you to sit next to me”. I slipped in holding back a whine and holding a sympathy card. He sat down, turned to me and with a combination of humor and HOH expression he said, “Better?”

“Totally”

“I can keep going then? “Your sure?” He was cracking me up! The kids were smiling and chuckling about yet another ‘Mom’s endearing herself to Dad again by controlling him’ moments. I don’t consider it control as much as I view it as helping a very busy man create the highest quality possible. It’s like cinching a bow on the top of his package because I know it is going to unravel. I do not do it nearly as often as I used to. And this time, I’m definitely taking care of my needs.

It was interesting to see the differences of the four kids reactions. I won’t go into detail, but I will share that the reactions are very telling of their defined personalities.

Last Thursday when we did (finally) have time for him to spank me, I was pretty shocked it all went down so normally. He’s decided that I have to have things done by Tuesdays; that will allow him to ‘handle’ it on Thursdays. He talked a lot about what I needed to do. A few rooms took the hit from the holidays and I still haven’t righted them. Apparently he’s done over looking things. Again I was pretty thrown by his being so normal. I need that right now. It’s like he knows I can be strong. Sure I’ve wandered around the house since Wednesday. But I did get to the gym Friday (required) and I managed to do some straightening. Heck I even worked on my check book! As D reiterated at breakfast, “Baby, if you’ve got time to spend it, you’ve got time to record it.”

“You do realize that when I can’t see, I’m not going to miss balancing the check book!” I used my pseudo ‘take that!’ expression.

“Yes, but you do realize you won’t be shopping online either!” he said as the ‘touché I love to hear from him. I do live for the banter! And it seems that this is the perfect venue that allows us to slip in upcoming changes with some bonding and boundaries.

Insights

**There has been little time for spanking. It hadn’t taken place for about 8 or 9 daze when I had resigned myself to let him find his own time. I begrudgingly gave D space knowing that it had to feel right for him. I also started to feel dejected it was safer to be feigning patience than to become angry.

 

Yesterday afternoon I had a recheck with a specialist. For a year we’ve been watching some vision issues with one eye that should have disappeared within three months. The last two months I’ve felt as if I’m borrowing someone else’s eyes, they just ‘feel’ different and I see differently. Lots of lights with halos, wavy vision in one eye, dark spots just started, my depth of perception is worsening. Now my right eye’s got major halos and blurred vision that I’ve been ignoring, too scared to bring it up. Driving in the dark has been completely unsafe. I figured out that using my brights constantly worked. I should have told D. But I couldn’t.

 

After my appointment indications point to a rare, fast moving macular degeneration. Tests this month should cinch it, the assistants and the doctor used the words. The doctor is trying to determine if it is a double rare type or just the rare type. I know I have to wait for thee conversation, but I know what I see; I felt scared before the appointment because I was getting so much worse so quickly.

I immediately texted my good friend. I remember I felt guilty in the moment for not contacting D first. But it was so bad, that I needed to be grounded before I could even text him.  Maybe I was trying to protect him. I ended up in his office. We googled phrases and terms I’d managed to record in my phone while I cried off and on followed by a light dinner and three cosmos. We left his car downtown and he drove me home; it was dark and I was buzzed. Later that night, I cried/sobbed/was hysterical off and on, for about eight hours.

 

D was great – which can’t begin to describe any of it. “We’ve gotten through some really tough stuff; we’ll get through this — together.” He was adamant. I was convinced, still am. As we drove out of the city. I looked at it as if it were for the last time. I wanted to remember the reflection of the lights on the water. The colors were very pretty. My appreciation for what I saw was immeasurable and I’ve always been entranced with my sense of sight.

 

This morning we stayed home later, he  needed to drive himself into town with my car (his car was in the garage). We stopped in the old part of the city and had some coffee and almond meles. He said as I took over the drivers seat and he headed into work, “I’ll take care of you tonight.” I felt shocked. How was he going to pull this off when I could see so much empathy in his eyes last night and this morning.

 

Tonight he made me feel normal. He treated me just like he would have any other time. He talked about how I need to tell him what is happening with me physically and emotionally. I am no longer allowed to drive at night. It is a relief. He’s taking over all the car-pooling, at least until the days brighten up.  He didn’t go easy on me. In fact he used an implement (of torture!), an antique that a friend gave to me (D) that is a heavy wood, butter paddles maybe?… I was thinking of her and wondering why she wished such evil on me! OK… there are a few reasons lol ! But D was incredible and for the first time I felt that when it was all over that I was an equal. It was really weird, because usually I feel so submissive. I think it was the respect I felt. I knew he wouldn’t pity me in any way shape or form. He wasn’t afraid to be normal with me. I felt so strong, that I could get through this, we could get through this together. Whatever happens, if I manage to get a ‘get out of jail free card’ and this is all some illusion, then I will look upon things with a new appreciation. As a woman who has always said, “I’m very visual” this has really rocked my foundation. Loss of control in this case will be something I didn’t sign up for, but I will and am doing my best. D assures me that he’ll see to it.

Wrap me in Yellow Caution Ribbon!

How was your Monday? Tuesday shaping up to be anything better? I’ve got a week full of ‘stuff’. I’m spending the day with Danielle. We rarely hang out tougher. She keeps weird hours, has a busy social life. But tomorrow it’s a mom daughter day. We’ll meet D (grab a free lunch !) then head to some artsy shops. I’d love to jump start her. She’s an amazing artist. They all are really. But she has this variety to go from drawing abstract to portrait and obscure portrait that amazes me.

I spent the day doing some tasks. Some I’ve yet to complete which were due to be finished from the first of the year. Calendar’s everywhere, school sports, work, D’s special work schedule, all my physical therapy stuff…   the coordination process is ridiculous. Amber has joined some über sportsball gig and wow .. let me tell you these girls are intense!!!  It’s fun to watch.

It seems that the family will be changing as Ben decided  to leave the nest (a few years ago) now he’s off to not only leave the  tree where we built our nest, but he’s all about leaving the forest too! I’m done crying about it – at least until he is actually is gone. The date is perilously close. I have to not think of it now.  It has created a renewed closeness between Danielle and Carrie.  They have their cycles ranging from kind tolerance to deep understandings. I think with Ben ready to ship out they realize it is just the two of them for some time undetermined time ahead.  He’s close to both of them.  He’s also the apple of Amber’s eye. And D will have his only son far away.  Many of you deal with much more than what I’m writing about. So I won’t belabor the point. But my heart goes out to you mom’s and dad’s and sibs who live with it.

All this to say that I’m ready to quietly snap! Not in a bad way. But I just need that release. And it seems that while D references spanking and or Dd at least once each day, the actions don’t occur unless there’s a perfect storm. Lately he’s been taking advantage of leaving after Amber in the mornings. I’m not a morning person. I try to fake it – but no one can talk to me while I do. Does that count? He probably has some morning in his head. Lots of good that will do me! I say “I need this” and he says he knows and then I keep moving.

I told him last Thursday… umm it’s been … and I look at my imaginary spanking clock. I”m sure someone’s already drawn that clock face (at least 100 times! I remind him that I’m solid for about 3 1/2 days. After that I’m starting to lose the submissiveness. I’m about to hit Rogue!!!

Saturday night we all went to dinner. Just the six of us – which is rare – they usually all have friends over on our Sunday dinner times. It was fun. Lots and lots of laughs. I felt so silly and light, most likely trying to ignore that it would be the next to last dinner with Ben there. I wasn’t about to have D acting the Dom on me. Well at one point when I was ‘googling’ to confirm my mind was still in tact, D felt it necessary to have me hand over my phone. I wanted to kill him but was laughing to hard at something else to let it sink in. He got insistent but held his humor. I went to put it down his shirt. and he said to put it directly in his hand. WELL not so much!! I put it up his arm sleeve, worked it through to his collar and back out again. Yeah I know Miss Mature!! So yes that moment when you know you have to even though your are ready to morph your skin into that rough sand shark mode to ward off anymore unwanted interactions. Well I keep having them. And I’ve started to be fond of my goofy sweatshirt and my errant winter hair. Loose curls everywhere. None of them speaking to each other. sighs… It’s to that in-between place where I think … you know what… the window’s closing buddy. (yes I know that sounds disrespectful). No doubt I’ll regret what I’ve written at some point. But it is either ‘write on the fly’ sharing what comes and goes through my life in real time, or wait to recreate what I think someone wants to read: the together me, the lovable ‘could’ve been a sub’ in another lifetime, the sweet, wise and wonderful me. I vowed to lose perfection. So here I am today. Hoping that when he does conspire with the aligned planets to hear me when I say I’m honestly in tune to the Dd channel – but I’m getting some static and the volume’s climbing. (I should’ve put this in the whine section huh?)

 

A skewed Timothy Leary Evening: Tuned in, Turned on, Droppin’ the pout!

This is a reference for the old folks out here. I’ll just tell the younger readers that where I grew up, Leary was a revered member of the counter-culture of the sixties (and for my teen experiences, the seventies). I was trapped between the too angry, too judgmental blue-collars that I lived with who comprised the city and hated the educated in the University.  I was lucky because my friends were the kids of the professors. They travelled, spoke other languages, had  a wonderful way of being so positive. In our neighborhood we spent lots of time playing very detailed games consisting of historical opposition – which is a sociological term for cowboys and indians and variations on the theme. We were not an uncomplicated lot, we acted out/played the Lost Colony, Serfs vs Knights Serfs and Ancient Chinese Warlords, Serfs and Wall Street Moguls. My point is that I have wrongly grown (or not grown) up in a world where I see things two ways. Diametrically opposing is too simple to be reality. I give myself  a choice between a whooping two whole points of view, chances are strong that I have over simplified something so much more complex. I go into some primal emo mode ready as a trigger aiming at shadows.

Last night I felt that distance, read myself to sleep – my passive aggressive forte. Today I used my energy to work hard at a few things. At the end of the day much was done; as a result the house looked great. It wasn’t my goal – but it worked beautifully. Tonight he came home, tried for an early arrival – but the weather wouldn’t cooperate. He made me a plate of cheese, crackers, olives and grapes, poured some dry wine and is watching me type while he enjoys the movie Ronin – where everybody has their own agenda and nothing is simple. The car scenes are totally hot, just saying’!!

The olives and the branches they came from are offered up tonight. It is time to love, time to grow.

 

 

 

180′s

Tonight went well. There were a few moments of everyday stress to face. I flared a few times. Sometimes he’s right, sometimes I’m right. Sometimes he jumps right on top, spotting my attitude before I speak. I don’t get disrespectful, ok most times that is true; but when I do get that ‘edge’ I wish that he weren’t so busy or so tired. It is funny how from one day to the next ‘it’ can change. Sometimes I want him to call me on it, and sometimes I would resent it. Tonight I wasn’t sure how I would have taken it. I just know it didn’t happen. Maybe because it didn’t happen, I tell myself that I may not have welcomed his calling me on it. I’m just not sure.

I have to review that we are human. I’ll start with my humanity. Just because I was spanked night before last doesn’t mean that I have become someone who is back in the saddle again. I did have an oasis. It felt great. I was able not to pick up my kindle and read when I couldn’t sleep. I felt great spooning him as the night fell hard. I rescued Amber who had a terrible nightmare at 4:30. I came back to bed. I wanted to be with D, to have those quiet moments before our time is interrupted by reality. He like to spoon me; I like to cuddle into his side and feel his chest hair. I crave those moments, Ifeel them throughout the day.

Somehow I want to hold onto them. That feeling of knowing he is with me. And we have our roles so defined. I have to hang onto our love, Brian is right. I have to let go of my anger.

The book the Voyager by Diana Gabaldon has a small conversation between Claire and Briana’s love. She discusses the stature of men in conjunction with their life’s behavioral  themes. She discusses that with women, the differences aren’t so much stature as they are dividing among women who are angry at men and the opposite. Those who love men – do just that.

 

I asked him to read this; he’s declined – he’s tired. And he really is. What am I? I don’t feel tired. But I do feel something. I hope I can find words for it.

Patience – Numb – Rescued

I had waited through hours and hours of too many worked hours. D did a great job of leaving his work at work. But his absence hurt. His choice of work ethic, his choice to play shark in the ocean. No Mayberry job abounds. No 4, 5, or 6 pm arrivals home. It’s lonely. It is how he is. I hold down the nest. We bond at the end of it all.

It had been so long I had decided to acquiesce. I knew it would have been a luxury to entertain my feelings. I didn’t turn them off, but I did teach myself not to care quite so much and I distanced myself in quiet ways he didn’t notice and I had not done before. The “this too shall pass” thing brought me to conversing with ‘oh let me comfort you KayLynn self’ only to hear my calloused self saying in undertones, “yeah right”.

Well last night we did finally get to the ‘this finally passed’, with an emphasis on ‘finally’ point in time. But I had too little in me to see or even wish that it was coming. Despite the fact that our sex life hadn’t dropped off, I found myself pairing up the ‘whatever’ with both sex and spanking. It happened as a surprise. Or maybe I’d decided to stop looking and so it felt like a big surprise.

The transition between “let me put my book down… now… what did you say?” to following his directions and handing him the paddle weren’t easy. Again, I talked my way through it.

I was stubbornly bearing it all. I felt a stranger to the whole ordeal. As it grew intense and I still was entrenched in my head and not my body. It surprised me.

Somehow I managed to do all the talking. D usually does, I’m submissive and I listen. But last night I talked. I talked about the two D’s. The one who is with me and the one who leaves me to go do what he loves. I have learned to love them both. But it ain’t easy.

I let myself drift. It’s yet another thing to work on. Is there an app for that? I little life-preserver with a line through it. No drifting!

Hour 12 ~ Everybody’s strived and arrived at Perfect, Right?!

Me too! Totally ready for the try-athete (I mean triathlon). I’ve got the Girl Scout motto down pat: I’m pure in all thoughts words and deeds. God I feel great! I refused to be resolved about not lying, just warnin’.

OK here’s the deal: I’m resolved NOT TO BE PERFECT!!! Frankly it’s been paralyzing. The perfection isn’t glaringly apparent on the outside. I’m not a wifeatron, momatron, friendatron, but I am constantly wanting to be one of them.

I want so much to be best case scenario – that place in my head that keeps me from too many things because I can’t do it in the very best way possible. This results in friends never receiving vacation postcards from me because I forgot to send them on Wednesday of a one week vacation. I would feel very uncomfortable if they would  get the post card well after I’ve arrived home. So it  sits, purposeless, stamped and in a drawer of guilt and shame. As a woman once said to me, “I have a large collection of condolence cards.” Generalize the principle from bad timing to all kinds of things and here’s phrases not heard:

” I’ll be over in a sec! “

“Omg, we’re wearing the same pajama pants! LOL”

“Yeah I’ve set the kitchen on fire a few times, but I’m cooking anyway!”

“Baking soda, baking powder… whatever just bring me some white stuff! Add more sugar, it will rise just fine!”

“You’ve finished :

a. the quilts, scarfs, scrapbooks, books, stories, sewing (anything) projects, work project, learning about candle making, attending archeological meetings, programming your preferences into your car, learning French, visiting your friends in Colorado, (even better) Europe, (omg wouldn’t this be cool) Australia, and believe it or not, acquaintances in the (not so sure I’m down for ) South Pole!

Ironically The Stones are singing to me, “You can’t Always Get What You Want” – I love synchronicity!

So…. Hour twelve – truth is – still in bathrobe, (have helped D cook (kitchen’s not burned), I’ve actually written and – wow here’s my shocker – posted a post. (D finds it really a waste that I’ve got over 50 drafts!).

I sincerely wish you the very best of who you are bringing forth this next year. I’m in love with the clean slate theory. I crave it as a matter of fact. That’s why I love that we are into spanking. I feel I can go forth with renewed hope.  My mind’s going to be taking a nice slow, non perfectionist route (hopefully well into hour 18!).

I’ll let you know how it goes!

Happy New Year – All the Very Best for All of You in 2012!!