Some Have Given All

Why is there even Memorial day? When I first moved to the north west I was disturbed that the cemetaries had no flowers. Then I find out that they call Memorial day, decorating day. They go out and put flowers on everybody’s grave. No mention of what the day really means. No one cares. For some it is a time to party, get drunk, cook out on the grill, have that family reunion.

Where did the true meaning of Memorial Day go? Is it completely forgotten? I think most people do remember and spend maybe five minutes of the day thinking about those who died for their freedom. The problem is that many people don’t know or just don’t care.

My challenge to you this Memorial Day weekend, take a few minutes to remember the fallen and thank a veteran for their sacrifice.
　
In-Law visit for the next week. Wish me luck, patience and a pillow to cover my sore backside.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8ZZf619DIpo&feature=related

Topping from the Bottom or Simply Lost?

“You will not punish me for that.”

“That wasn’t hard enough or long enough”

“When are you going to get with the program”

“OWWW that was too hard.”

“Why did you do that. That didn’t feel good.”

“but but but…. I didn’t know that was a rule.”

I asked for ttwd. I complain when he “drops the ball” I complain when he picks up the ball and runs with it. I complain when he doesn’t spank hard enough. I complain when he spanks me the way I thought I should have been spanked last time.


Note to self.

WOMAN, GET WITH THE PROGRAM!


Either you are a submissive wife, willingly incorporating DD into your marriage or you aren’t.

So….. Which is it?

I know I need DD. I can not pull myself out of this hole I have dug my self into. I have tried. I ripped my finger nails off, worked until my hands were a bloody pulp trying to do this on my own. I ASKED FOR THIS. So why is it so hard to submit to him in this?

I am naturally submissive. Always have been. When we met I was overly submissive. I lived in fear. He had to build up self esteem and self worth before I could even lift my face to gaze into his eyes. He taught me how to trust and that love isn’t always a chore. I can go to him with anything. Any concern. Any worry. Any question.

I asked for dd. I asked for his dominance. His control. I need him to be HOH.

Yet I question his judgment when he chooses to punish. I question him when I have clearly broken a rule and he does nothing.

I almost envy the women whose husbands brought DD to the relationship. Almost. I’m not sure I could take the punishment these men dish out.



What do I want? I don’t know…..
If you know, I’m all ears.

Perspective

A dear friend gave me some perspective.

“You have raised her to be a Christian young lady. You have taught her about God, faith, hope and hard work. Now it is time to let her fly. She may stumble, she may fall or even fail a time or two. That’s ok. She needs to do this on her own. It is time. You have prepared her for life for the last 18 years. She either learned the lessons you tried to teach or she didn’t. let her show you what she is made of.”

Word of wisdom I needed to hear.

I do worry and always will.  I think that is part of being Mom.  I carried my children under my heart.  I loved them from the very first + on the stick.  I love them when they are angels.  I love them when they mess up.  I worry when they fall. 

I will always be Mom to her.  No matter how far away she moves.  Where ever she goes, no matter what she is doing, she will still be part of my heart.  I will always love this not so little girl. 

Just a few more weeks and she will go for the summer.  I wonder if she will come home to finish high school or find the grass greener some where else. 

Parents in the stands

I went to my daughters first ever hockey game this week. She played like a pro. Not very aggressive yet but that is being girl too. She will get there.

What bothered me? A mother sitting in the stands behind me. Every time her son was on the ice, she was screaming like a maniac. She sounded possessed. Like something off of “The Exorcist” Sounds bad, doesn’t it? It was worse. Every time she screamed, he jumped.

It obviously isn’t helping her son. His team has lost 2 games already. All it does is distract the kids and it makes it hard to hear the coaches. It isn’t like this is a huge stadium filled with screaming fans. These are young kids. Most of the parents don’t even stick around for the game. (that bugs me too) Does all that screaming make the kids feel loved? I don’t know. It sounds obnoxious to me. Out of the 50 people in the stands, she was the only one acting like that. Everybody cheered when their kids team scored a goal but nobody else was trying to coach from the stands.

If I acted out like that in public, I don’t think my husband would wait to get me home. He would find a bathroom and take care of my backside. I just hope the hand dryer would mask the sound of the smacks and my squeaks. Then I would get a MAJOR punishment at home. It won’t happen though because I refuse to go there.

Life has been busy. The carpet is leaving the house one room at a time. The walls are getting stripped of ugly wallpaper and painted. The kitchen remodel will be finished soon. Gardening. The broken washer and dryer have been replaced. All that with a full schedule of kids activities. No summer time off for us.

Board? Nope. Not me. I’m not sure where to start or what to do first but I’m not board, that is for sure.

Inconsistent?

I thought so but is he really?

Yesterday morning I expected a stress relief session. It didn’t happen. I was disappointed. On a Saturday, I woke up to an empty bed.

I felt crushed. Absolutely disappointed. I needed his arms. I needed for him to assert his authority.

About noon, I figured it out. It was like the wind blew the clouds out of the sky and the sun began to shine.

I over did it. For a few days in a row, I worked too hard. Pulling up carpet, moving furniture, getting the walls ready to paint. My body hurt. Hands curled up on my chest to protect them. Tucked into a tight ball to try to ease the pain in my legs and back.

I felt guilty for not helping him. While he worked, I hid. If I joined him in the living room, I tried to help. I wanted to help. It was so hard to sit by and watch. But my body was rebelling.

So why was I so surprised when he didn’t spank? I crave consistency. “I” thought he had dropped the ball. “I” thought he really didn’t want this at all. “I” thought wrong.

At first he did get frustrated when I didn’t help. Then he really looked. Dragon saw the pain I was trying so hard to hide. He saw the limp. He saw my hands cradled protectively against my chest. He didn’t fuss.

Didn’t say anything to me at all. Just did what needed to be done.

And I was hurt.

He ignored me.

Right?

WRONG!

He saw what I needed. He provided as much comfort as he could. There is none to be found when it gets that bad. The pain fills every corner of my existence. Moving hurts. Staying still hurts. Nothing helps.

But I thought I needed consistency.

What was he giving me?

Consistency.

His way. The way I needed it. Not the way I thought it was needed.

When my mind is foggy with pain. When I can’t cope with a body that won’t do what I want it to do. He takes care of my needs. Not with TTWD but with gentile care and kindness. His dominance comes out to protect me from making it worse.

I am happy that he gives me what I need and not what I think I need.

I love my man!

Ps. This morning, my backside is burning. Nearly 2 hours after my Dragon spanked me, I still feel the sting. A day late? Nope. Right on time.

The Cure for Insomnia and Stress

I have had a few stressors in my life this past month. You think? Yep. I think. When my husband had surgery on his shoulder, DD took a back seat for a while. Stress relief didn’t happen. I got spanked but not just for that purpose. Punishment, pre-emptive, warnings. Yep. Just not regularly scheduled stress relief.

Then comes Saturday morning. That is when THING 2 received his name. WOWCH! ! ! He intended for it to hurt. He wanted to make me think but ouch! ! ! When he finally let me up, my poor bottom was purple. Yep. I was bruised, just as he intended. The spanking did what he intended for it to do. It relaxed me for the rest of the day. I enjoyed going to the farmers market.

With that spanking, he realized that something changed. I got no pleasure from it anymore. NONE! ! ! What changed? The cherry paddle broke and had not been replaced. It was all sting and no thud. He used the oak and plexi glass to make a point. The cherry was reserved for the sessions he wanted me to enjoy and relax with. No relaxing with Thing 1 or Thing 2. The oak and plexi glass just plain hurt to much for anything other than punishment.

So…. Sunday he made the 6 new paddles. It started out to just be 4, each made from a different species of wood. Cherry, oak, walnut and balsa. The left over wood from 2 were just right for a thinner back up paddle and the total became 6. He gave each a test swing but didn’t do any more than that. (leather butt is not attractive)

Saturday, Sunday, Monday…. No sleep. The bad dreams just kept marching across my mind. One after the other like a train wreck, every time I closed my eyes. I was that bad. I walked around dazed with lack of sleep. Tuesday, he had enough. The kids were in bed. It wasn’t very late but we were both tired an turned in early.

He was on the computer and I wanted his attention. What is the easiest way to get a mans attention? I crawled into bed nude and curled up beside him. Yep. I got his attention all right.

“What you need is a good spanking. You haven’t slept in days and I know why.”

Ooops

He reached across me and picked up the paddles. Since he still can’t use his arm to hold me still, he put his leg across my back and it started. I don’t know which paddle he used but it felt like he had one in each hand. He used my backside like a drum. Slowly the tension drained from my body, one swat at a time. I tried to twist away from the sting but his knee on my back held me firmly in place. My pleading did no good. He stopped when all the fight was gone and I submitted to him.

The last thing I remember of the night, is his hand resting on my lower back. He held me close as I fell into a deep sleep.