Thursday, January 31, 2013

Bumps in the Road

You may have noticed that I've been a little quiet this week. Steve would tell you that means I'm thinking on something, probably something I'm worried about or upset over. He's right. I've been dealing with something this week that really knocked me for a loop. I'm not ready to talk about it yet. To be honest, I may never be ready. For now, I'm still trying to process it.

I did talk to Steve about it initially. He tried to help, which I love him for, but he couldn't. This is something I need to work out for myself. When his initial attempt to help didn't work out, he backed off. Way off.

I don't know if he backed off because he wanted to give me space to work things out, he didn't know what to do or he'd just given up. Considering I wasn't even sure what to do, I wasn't much help. I do know that him backing off like he did was not what was needed at all. Without the structure and security I find when he's leading, I unraveled fast.

Submission flew out the window and thoughts like "Who needs a man anyway? I can do this by myself." began to crowd my head. All those layers that I was so proud of shedding came back with reinforcements. This led to a bit of a rebellion on my part where I decided I'd just do (or not do) whatever I wanted.

But last night as we were laying in bed, both of us tossing and turning and unable to sleep, I started feeling the distance that had been creeping in. So I peeked out of the thick layers surrounding my heart and started talking a little. It didn't go well. We both got frustrated and I ended up leaving the room upset.

He surprised me by following a minute later. We tried again with pretty much the same result. I left the room in tears saying "Maybe this was a stupid idea." I crawled back in bed, curled in a ball at the very edge and just cried.

When Steve came back to bed, I didn't even have to turn over to know that he was right on the edge of his side, as far away as he could get and still be in the bed. The space between us in the bed was tiny in comparison to the emotional distance I felt. I cried even harder at that thought.

We've come a long way in growing closer these past few months. I did not want to go back to the way things were before. I wasn't going to. I was flat out refusing to do it again.

About the time I felt the bed shift and his hand on my back, it all came flying out in one huge explosion of anger, hurt and frustration. To be honest, I don't remember exactly what I said. I was saying whatever came to mind, not filtering anything. Once the words started flowing, I couldn't stop them, not even to give him a chance to respond, and they kept flowing until finally the well ran dry.

Considering how hard I was crying, it's a wonder he could even understand half of what came out of my mouth last night. But apparently he did because he wrapped his arms around me, told me he loved me and said we'd get through this.

Then later once I calmed down, he said he thought he should probably take care of some things. At first, I was a little upset. After all, I'd just poured my heart out to him and he was talking about a spanking. But once I got over my initial reaction, I realized he was right. He had let me go for several days and he needed to take care of those things so we could put it behind us. More than that, he needed to remind both of us that he was in charge and leading us.

It wasn't really punishment, although it had some elements of it. It was more a reconnect, something to put us back on steadier ground. Afterwards, we snuggled for a bit and then I started to roll over to my stomach, which is how I sleep. Steve stopped me. I was laying on my side up against him so he grabbed the leg that I wasn't laying on and pulled it over his hip, trapping it between his legs. Then he nuzzled his face right into my chest. We fell asleep that way.

Apparently one of us, maybe even both of us, decided to change position in the night. I woke up laying on my other side at the very edge of the bed with him snuggled against my back and his arm wrapped around my hip. As I peeked back over my shoulder and him, I had to smile. We have a king size bed and when we first started the evening, there was a good three feet of space in between us because we were hugging our individual sides. When we woke up, we were snuggled up so tight that all that space was behind Steve. If he had snuggled in any closer, we probably would have both ended up in the floor.

Monday, January 28, 2013

Don't Push the Buttons

As you may recall, I spent last Thursday sitting on a sore bottom. Steve's sweet, submissive wife had flown out the window the day before and things hadn't gone well. The day was bad enough but what really cooked my goose was pushing his buttons.

Now that he's enforcing the no disrespect rule, pushing buttons is a big offense. It's not just disrespect. It's deliberate disrespect. So I got spanked.

Now you would think that after that, I'd settle down and behave. I did, at least for a few days. I made it all the way to last night before landing myself in hot water. He said something that rubbed me the wrong way and I began composing my button pushing symphony. Needless to say, he didn't find my symphony as pleasing as I did.

A warning was issued and then a second one. I heard both, but I guess I was feeling too secure in the total darkness to worry. A problem with the power lines had knocked out our power and the power to every house around. Even the moon seemed to be hiding. I guess you could say I was too caught up in pushing his buttons to realize I was pushing my own self destruct button.

Even when I felt the bed shift and then heard the dresser drawer slide open, I didn't worry too much. After all, he's not going to spank me in the dark when he can't see what he's doing. No matter how irritated he was. He wouldn't take a chance on inadvertently injuring me. I was right about that.

But I forgot that the power had went out two times already before this and he had put one of our small flashlights in his pocket after the first time so it would be handy. Sure enough the bed shifted again and then I heard the clink of his belt buckle as he picked up his jeans and retrieved the flashlight.

As soon as the flashlight's beam lit the room, I started back-pedaling. But it did no good. Not that I really expected it to, but a girl can always hope.

He then proceeded to light my backside on fire with the paddle. Every time he would stop and I would think he was done, he'd just lecture for a minute and then go right back to swatting. The power came during one of the pauses and he dropped the flashlight and said "Good now I can see even better." and swatted some more.

When it was over, I was definitely regretting the button-pushing. After I snuggled in his arms for comfort for a few minutes, we started talking. I told him about the remark that had rubbed me wrong and he apologized for it. I apologized for pushing buttons to irritate him instead of just talking to him. And all was well in our world.

So the moral of today's story is this: Don't push your HoH's buttons in the dark unless you're absolutely sure there are no other lighting sources around. Or better yet, just don't push his buttons.

Saturday, January 26, 2013

The Very Inspiring Blogger Award

Ward and June of The Dish with Ward and June were kind enough to nominate us for the very inspiring blogger award. We are honored to be nominated.


The Rules:
1. Display the award logo on your blog.
2. Link back to the person that nominated you.
3. State 7 things about yourself.
4. Nominate 15 other bloggers for this award and link to them.
5. Notify those bloggers of the nomination and the award's requirements.

7 Things About Dana
1. I love to read and generally go through at least a couple books a week.
2. I have claustrophobia.
3. My dream is to travel, visiting everywhere my ancestors lived.
4. I can juggle.
5. I'm the oldest of my siblings.
6. I'm allergic to many of the chemicals used in household cleaning products so I make my own.
7. As a child, I wanted to be a race car driver.

7 Things About Steve
1.He's the baby of his family.
2. He's a redhead.
3. He's been in most of the states in the continental US and dreams of going to Alaska.
4. He has a soft spot for animals.
5. He's a whiz with anything with a motor
6. He's a bit of a dare-devil, although he's more careful now that we have a child.
7. He's a kid at heart and looks years younger than his real age. Seriously, when we first met and he told me how old he is, I didn't believe him and made him show his license to prove it.

Our Nominees

In case you haven't figured it out yet, I'm not good with following rules. Since these awards tend to spread like wildfire and I can't keep up with who has already been nominated, consider yourself nominated by us if you haven't already been nominated. We look forward to learning more about you.

Thursday, January 24, 2013

Priorities

This isn't the post I originally sat down to write. When I first sat down to write it this morning, I was frustrated. Frustrated at what seemed to be a slide back into inconsistency. Frustrated at what appeared to be a half-hearted effort towards TTWD.

Monday slipped by with no role affirmation. I thought he'd forgot so I dropped a few subtle hints. Apparently they were too subtle because he didn't get it. I found out later that he did remember, but by the time he did, it was late and I was already half asleep so he decided against doing it that night.

Then came Tuesday. Surprisingly, I had a good day. I had asked if I could do whatever chores I wanted rather than him assigning some and he had granted my request with the stipulation that whatever I chose to do couldn't be something tiny like organizing the sock drawer. I ended up working a little bit on several rooms of the house, then focusing the rest of my time on the laundry/storage room. Aside from a few more loads of laundry waiting to be washed, it's almost completely done now.

But role affirmation didn't happen that night either. Nor was anything said about it. Again, I found out later that he had thought of it, but decided not to do it since I had done so well that day.

Yesterday was not a good day. I woke up snapping and the day went downhill from there. It was clear that I wasn't myself and later that night my frustration spilled over and I told him how I was feeling. But at that point, it was late and things were put off yet again to be addressed this morning before he left for work.

But by the time he got done dropping our daughter off and running a few errands, it was already past the time he should be leaving for work. He said he would try to get to it this morning if he could, then went off to load his truck. I felt the frustration rising because I was sure he would put it off again. It didn't help that the neighbor came over as he was loading his truck, something I figured would make him late enough to not want to take the time.

So I sat down to write this post. To my surprise, he came back in a few minutes later and said "Let's go. I want to take care of this now so you don't keep spiraling and get yourself in more trouble." I followed him to the bedroom where he already had the paddle in hand and was pointing at the bed. I quickly stripped and laid down on my stomach and he began.

It was clear that he was feeling a little frustration himself because the swats were a little harder than usual. I was really fighting to stay in position and several times earned myself a couple even harder swats for moving. Then he stopped and I thought he was done so I started to get up, only to be told to stay still because he wasn't done.

Seconds later, I heard an ominous sound, the sound of the top drawer of our other dresser being opened. It's where the cane is stored since it's too long for the drawer where the other implements are stored. I'll admit I tried my darnedest to talk him out of it. I hate the cane.

But it did no good. He was determined to get me back on track and wasn't backing down. I had pushed one too many buttons the day before. It was even harder to stay still with that. Then out of the corner of my eye, I saw the cane hit the bed beside me and I breathed a sigh of relief. At least until the next swat landed and I realized he had grabbed the plastic hanger without me noticing. If you rank our implements on a scale of 1 to 10 with 10 being the most hated implement, the cane comes in at 10 and the hanger comes in right behind it at 9.

I was so relieved when I saw it hit the bed a minute later that I almost didn't mind that he'd switched back to the paddle. After a flurry of hard swats with it, he laid down beside me and pulled me into his arms. I didn't get to enjoy snuggling that long, though, because his phone rang and he had to answer it. He did come back after he got off the phone and give me a hug and a kiss, but then he had to run because he was already late.

He could have put things off because he was late, but he didn't. Instead he took the time. And even though I'm sitting here on a very tender bottom, I'm grateful that he did because in him making me a priority, he left me feeling loved and important to him.

Tuesday, January 22, 2013

On the Other Side

One of my friends came over yesterday and we spent the afternoon catching up while our husbands tinkered with cars and the kids played. She was a little upset with her husband already so she was talking about what was going on. I generally don't offer advice unless it's requested so I was mainly letting her talk and asking questions here and there to get the full picture so I'd be ready if she did ask what I thought.

I was really struck by the difference between this conversation and one we'd had a few months ago. In the other conversation, she had been bragging about him and everything he does for her and the kids. Her love for him really shined through her words then.

This time, though, I didn't really see that love. She talked about this or that that he had done (or not done in some cases) to irritate her. She talked about not trusting him. She mentioned thinking about leaving him.

I have to admit I understood some of her frustration. After all, I'd be just as ticked at Steve if he came in from work and stayed up all night playing video games rather than spending time with me and our daughter. It wouldn't be a big deal if it was just once in a while, but I'd be upset if it was an every night thing.

I also somewhat understand her trust issues with her husband. In a nutshell, he had promised her he wouldn't do something and then went behind her back to do it anyway. To make things worse, everyone but her knew it. At least she didn't know until I inadvertently let the cat out of the bed by mentioning something about it assuming she did know. While the thing in question is something I consider rather minor, I can understand her thought process. If he can't be honest about something small, you have to wonder if he will be honest about something big.

She was still upset when she left and Steve and I talked a little about it. Since he works with her husband, he's heard some complaints and gripes from the husband's side as well. We both agreed that the best thing my friend and her husband could do would be to quit being passive-aggressive with their frustration and actually sit down and talk about it. Of course it's easy to say that when we're looking at the situation from the outside. When it comes to us, this is something we still struggle with at times.

I felt a little better after talking to Steve. Even though he didn't say it, I knew he would probably talk to her husband. It wouldn't be anything obvious, more like a little advice here and there from someone who's had a few more year's experience with marriage. He's more than a few years older than I am and since some of the couples we're friend with are closer to my age, he sometimes takes on a role of big brother or trusted uncle with the guys. But something still bothered me about the conversation.

It wasn't until later when we laying in bed watching a movie that it hit me. A year ago, that could have been me. Not the specific problems my friend is dealing with, but the general dissatisfaction with your spouse that leads to you bashing them to friends without remembering their good qualities. Forgetting to show that you still love them despite their faults. A year ago, I probably wouldn't have saw anything wrong with it. But these past few months have brought a lot of changes to us and I can't imagine doing that now.

I still get upset with Steve at times and will turn to friends offline or here to vent my frustration. But I try to balance the bad with the good, acknowledging the good he does along with my complaints about whatever bonehead thing he did to upset me. Or at least I hope I come across as doing that. If I don't, please tell me because I don't want to be the type of woman that is always knocking her husband.

I saw this picture on Facebook the other day and it really struck a chord with me so I'm sharing it here.


Sunday, January 20, 2013

Disgruntled

I'm feeling a bit disgruntled today. I was barely awake before a spanking was threatened. It's not shaping up to be a good day.

Yesterday I was feeling good about things. I had did my chores then set out to surprise my husband. I went in and made the bed. It's not a rule, but I know Steve likes it when I make an effort to make the bed look nice and inviting. My personal philosophy is why make it when you're just going to mess it back up so I normally only make it when I change the bed linens.

Then I tackled a project that he's been wanting me to do for a while-the laundry room. It's a big room, running nearly the entire length of the back of our two car garage. Since it is so big, it not only serves as the laundry room, but also as storage. It was a huge mess.

I had piles waiting to be repaired, piles waiting to be donated, piles waiting to be washed, piles waiting to be folded and put away and piles of our daughter's outgrown clothes that needed to be sorted into bins. That was just the laundry side of the mess. Then there was various boxes, bags and miscellaneous items that had been thrown in there for storage without any real thought to organization.


With it being so cold yesterday and the laundry room and garage not being heated, I could only stay out there working for a little while before I had to come in the house to warm back up. But I kept going back and forth to work on it pretty much all day and, while I didn't finish the entire project yesterday, I did put a serious dent in the mess.

So I was a bit less than pleased when Steve told me last night that I hadn't cleaned our bedroom, which was supposed to be one of my chores. I had honestly forgot about it with everything else I had going on yesterday.When I asked if I was in trouble, he said he was debating about it so I didn't pester him about it. He did end up letting me off the hook, but since he had said he was tired several times in the meantime, I was left feeling like he did it because he was tired rather than because he thought I really deserved it.

I was also left feeling like I had failed him. This has been an ongoing issue with us for a while, even before DD. I would work on something and while he would be happy I did it, he'd feel like I should have prioritized something else ahead of whatever I had did. I don't mean to make him seem like a jerk that can't be pleased because he's not like that at all. Honestly, what he would say would make perfect sense. For example, organizing the linen closet is nice, but it shouldn't come before cleaning the living room because people actually see the living room. But it never failed to leave me feeling like a failure because I hadn't thought of it like that to start with.

Then there was this morning. I've mentioned before that I'm not a morning person. I'm especially not a morning person when it's a morning I have to get up early instead of sleeping in like I usually do. You see Sundays are the one day a week I can usually sleep in past seven. The rest of the week I'm up with our daughter, either getting her ready for school or watching her so Steve can go to work.


For us, Sundays are a day of rest, a day to enjoy time together as a family. Since Steve usually doesn't work Sundays, he gets up with our daughter and they go out to their Daddy-daughter breakfast so I can sleep in. Then we go to church as a family and spend the rest of the day together playing games or watching movies. If someone calls or comes over, we make an effort to get rid of them as soon as possible.

But Steve's boss is in a hurry for him to finish the job he's currently on so he called Friday evening and told him he had to work all weekend. As a result, I had to get up early to get Steve's lunch ready for him and take care of our daughter instead of sleeping in, which left me feeling a bit cranky. So I got threatened with a spanking before I even got out of bed.

Then when he was getting dressed, he pulled a shirt out of the dresser and started complaining about how stained it was. He works in construction and sometimes gets crap on his clothes that no amount of bleach or stain remover will bring out. In the case of this particular shirt, I had already washed it twice with bleach and the stain hadn't budged.

The frustration of not getting my family day, the one day I actually look forward to all week, combined with some residual feelings over the night before, led to me snapping that if he didn't like it, he could do his own damn laundry from now on. You guessed it, very disrespectful, If that wasn't bad enough, I said it in front of our daughter. That alone was two strikes-disrespect in front of her and cussing in front of her.

Since she was right there, he just said "Stop it." and gave me one of those looks. You know the one I mean. Then a few minutes later, I was told that I had chores for the day. I never have chores on Sunday. Ugh!





So instead of my nice peaceful Sunday with my family, I'm stuck doing chores and probably facing the paddle or worse tonight.

Saturday, January 19, 2013

Reasonable

We were laying in bed talking. And by talking, I mean Steve was talking and I was listening. Well he called it talking. I called it lecturing. Between hormones and stressing about a financial situation, I was a bit off this week and it was showing in a number of ways so he felt like it was time to nip things in the bud.

Everything he was saying made perfect sense. Even I had to agree with him. But I didn't want to because that meant I was agreeing that I deserved the spanking I was going to get. It didn't matter that he was right and I did deserve it. I just didn't want to admit it.


That's when I turned to him and said it.

"I hate it when you're all reasonable. I can't argue with it."

He just laughed and said it was good because I shouldn't be arguing with him anyway.

When we first started out, Steve was a bit hesitant about laying down the law and standing his ground. The lecture was an area of particular weakness for him. He'd tell me what I was in trouble for and I'd immediately start debating about it. I would use my full arsenal of excuses, loopholes and the occasional offer of exotic sexual favors, anything to get out of being spanked. Even though I had asked for all this, I was having a hard time truly letting go of control. As a result, he ended up backing down a lot more than he probably should have.

But he's had a lot of growth these past few months. One area of that growth has been the lecture. Now instead of just listing my infractions, he breaks it down and explains step by step why it's a problem and needs to be addressed. He's just so danged reasonable about it that, even though I don't want to, I find myself agreeing with him.

He's also less likely to back down now. While I have also grown over these past few months and now take more responsibility for my actions instead of making excuses, I still occasionally find myself trying to talk my way out of trouble. He always listens to what I have to say, but if a legitimate reason isn't forthcoming, he goes forward with what he has planned.

And yes I got spanked, although it ended up being delayed by a couple hours after the lecture. Right as I was being sent to collect implements, the doorbell rang so Steve got up to deal with that. It was his boss. He finally got rid of him only to have a neighbor show up. After the neighbor left, Steve realized how late it was getting and said he had to fix something on one of the cars before the daylight was gone.

Since it wasn't supposed to take that long to do, he sent me to the bedroom to wait. It ended up taking a little longer than he anticipated, but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. As I laid there across the bed with the implements laid out beside me, I had some time to think and by the time he came in, the lecture he had given earlier had really sunk in.

We talked for a minute and then he got down to business. It wasn't fun, but when are they ever. But now it's behind us and hopefully I can get my head back where it needs to be so we have smooth sailing ahead.

Friday, January 18, 2013

For My Fellow Lead Foots

I have to admit I was a little surprised at how many lead foots there are in our little DD blog community. So as a public service, I decided to look for some things that can help us beat our need for speed.

June started the ball rolling by suggesting in the comments that I get a keychain to serve as a reminder of the perils of speeding.


If I could see it while I was driving, it might do the trick, but unfortunately, the way my car is designed, you can't see the keys (or any keychains) when you're driving. So I had to look for other options.

Maybe I should place this sticker over the number 60 on my speedometer. Of course it wouldn't help me much if the speed limit is lower than 60 and I'd probably ignore it when I'm traveling and get into 70mph speed zones.


Perhaps we need something a little less subtle, something like this sticker on the speedometer. I think seeing this red hand might help encourage slowing down to a more reasonable speed.


If all fails, our HoHs could always do this next one. I have to admit that it might work for me. If I didn't know how fast I was going once I crossed into the blocked out area, I might not be willing to chance it. By much anyway.


Maybe I should just hang a mini hairbrush from my rear view mirror. Just drill a hole in the handle and run a piece of cord through it. To a vanilla person, it just looks like I'm prepared for any hair emergency. For anyone in a DD relationship, it's a strong reminder. Of course then you have to worry that your HoH might use it on you if you start acting up while traveling.


It's not really subtle and if a vanilla friend or family member gets in your car, you'll have some explaining to do, but this sticker is always an option, especially if placed where you will see it every time you drive.

Maybe I should design a special car for us ladies. I envision it automatically sensing the speed limit and should the speedometer go more than 5 past the speed limit, a recording of our HoH's voice will play reminding us to "Slow down or else!" Maybe the seat warmer will automatically turn on as well, bringing warmth to our bottoms, a clear indication of what we can expect for speeding.

Thursday, January 17, 2013

The Need for Speed

Yesterday I was on my way to pick up my daughter from school. I was cruising along listening to the radio and thinking. I was speeding, but I wasn't too worried about getting pulled over because the cops are normally sitting at the other end of the road and I know to slow down as I get close to that point.

This big SUV had been riding my bumper for a couple minutes, which was annoying me because the roads were still a bit slick from all the rain we've had lately and I didn't want to get rear-ended if I had to stop quickly. There wasn't really room to move over into the other lane so I stayed in my lane cruising along at the same speed.

Then I looked up in my mirror again and saw a sight that nearly stopped my heart.


My first thought was "Oh crap I'm going to get a ticket for speeding." That thought was immediately followed by wondering how we were going to pay the ticket when we're dead broke right now. Then my thoughts moved to the effect of a ticket on our car insurance premium.

But it was the last thought that really filled me with dread. I realized that I was going to have to tell Steve and he was NOT going to be happy about it. And by not happy, I mean I probably wasn't going to feel comfortable sitting for a couple days.

You see I used to be a bit of a speed demon. Having to pay a very expensive ticket and nearly losing my license over speeding in my teens slowed me down for a while, but by the time Steve and I got married, my lead food had returned and it was only through dumb luck that I hadn't got caught speeding again. So he told me if I got a ticket, he was taking my keys until he felt I could be responsible enough to travel at a safe speed, or at least one that wouldn't get me a ticket. Looking back, I see he had HoH tendencies even then.


Shortly after we started DD, I nearly got pulled over for speeding. I wasn't paying attention when the speed limit dropped and I went by a cop running about 13 over the speed limit. Around here, you can go five or six over the limit without a problem. Anything more and you get pulled over. Thankfully, right after the cop pulled onto the road to come after me, another car blew by both of us going even faster than I was and the cop decided to go after that car rather than mine. When I mentioned it to Steve, he said since taking my keys wasn't really an option anymore with us having a kid that needs to be taken to and from school, I could expect one heck of a spanking if I got a ticket for speeding.

Anyway, after seeing that heart-dropping sight in my mirror, I carefully merged into the right lane in preparation for pulling over at the next spot I could do so safely. Meanwhile I was praying desperately that the officer would take into account that I haven't had a ticket for anything in years and let me off with just a warning.. I would still have to tell Steve and would probably still be in trouble, but it wouldn't be as bad as if I'd got an actual ticket.

I was a little confused when the cop didn't immediately follow me to the right lane. Then I breathed a sigh of relief when he flipped his lights off and kept going up the road. I don't know if he was warning me about my speed, just wanted me out of his way or got a more important call at that very moment, but he didn't pull me over.

I have to admit I debated about whether or not to tell Steve. After all, I didn't really get pulled over and I didn't get a warning or a ticket. I was alone in the car when it happened and barring someone we both know seeing it happen and telling him about it, he would never find out.

But even though he would probably never find out, it would bother me. To not tell him flies in the face of the honesty and trust our relationship is based on. I just couldn't do that to him, to us.

I wasn't quite sure how he'd react. He'd had a bit of a rough day and was aggravated when he got home so I held off on telling him right away. When we went to bed, he talked a little more about his day, but he was calmer so I kind of led into it by saying "Well it could have been worse. You could have got blue-lighted like I did."

He was quiet for a minute before asking why so I told him I had been speeding. Then he asked how fast I was going. Finally he asked if I got a ticket. Since he was already turning towards the drawer where we keep the implements, I was quick to assure him that I hadn't. He settled back down after hearing that and I told him the whole story.

I didn't get in trouble. Since the cop never actually pulled me over, there's no way to be sure whether he flipped on his lights because I was speeding or for some other reason. He did, however, remind me in explicit detail of what I could expect if I do get a ticket.


I think it's time to slow down. I don't think my buns of steel are quite up to handling the trouble my lead foot might bring.

Wednesday, January 16, 2013

Gone in 60 Seconds

I was feeling a little off yesterday. It could have been because of the dreary weather we've had lately. It could have been that I was hormonal from a certain aspect of womanhood. It may have even been some lingering tension from the weekend. Maybe it was a combination of the three. Whatever it was, I wasn't myself. I knew it, and it wasn't long until Steve knew it.

It all came to a head when I was fixing supper. I'm not going to say exactly what upset me because honestly I'm a bit embarrassed over it. In hindsight, it was a silly thing for me to get mad at him over. Steve noticed immediately that I was upset and asked me what was wrong. Being a nice guy, he wanted to fix it if he could.

But I was already starting to distance. So despite him asking several times and eventually threatening to get to the bottom of things with a paddle, I was stubborn and refused to tell him. And while I didn't totally shut down and refuse to talk to him, there was a definite terseness to my responses when he would ask me something.

Later when we went to bed, he gave me even more opportunities to open up and talk to him. I don't know why, but I just wrapped myself up in my anger and withdrew even more. When he said it was time for role affirmation (which had been postponed from the night before), I did something I very rarely do. I refused to cooperate.

At first it seemed I had won because he turned away. But a few minutes later, he turned back and it was clear from his expression that he was fully in HoH mode. After another refusal from me to tell him what was going on or get into position, I found myself flipped over unceremoniously. It took me by surprise. While we've discussed it and I've told him it's okay to do if I'm uncooperative, it's not something Steve routinely does. He usually waits me out, preferring that I submit myself.

I started struggling to get away at the first swat. He just slid down a little in the bed and wrapped his legs around mine to pin them and kept going. When I threw my hand back, something I hardly ever do as it got smacked accidentally once before, he shifted position again and pulled me into his chest so I had no choice but to wrap my arms around him.

A couple swats later and I dissolved into a puddle of tears. It surprised both of us because it's rare I cry that quickly with a spanking and also because I haven't cried like that in months. It wasn't just a few sniffles or a couple stray tears, but deep, soul-wrenching sobs. As soon as he realized it, he dropped the paddle and just held me while I cried. Finally the tears slowed enough I could tell him what I was upset about, which I had already realized was silly before the first swat even landed.

He didn't make me feel bad about getting upset over something so silly. He just apologized for his part in it. Then we talked about how it could have been handled differently.

From start to finish, the spanking lasted no more than a minute. I doubt more than fifteen swats were given. They must not have been that bad because I don't really even remember them hurting. I also don't remember him lecturing, although he assured me he had.

But in those 60 seconds, I went from a cranky, hormonal, stubborn, crazy lady to goo.

Something else happened during those 60 seconds, but it didn't really hit me until this morning. Over the years, I've erected a lot of barriers to my heart. I let people in, but only to a certain point. Even Steve has had to contend with some barriers. Whenever I feel those layers of protection start slipping away, I start to panic and immediately go to reinforcing them.

But over these past few months, he's managed to peel away some of those layers. And last night, without me even realizing it, he peeled back that final layer, leaving me completely open and vulnerable to him. Surprisingly, instead of feeling panic, I feel at peace.

Tuesday, January 15, 2013

Words of Wisdom from Dana: Round 2

After all my mature posts this past week, you probably think I have it all together. I hate to disillusion you, but all the growth doesn't come without some growing pains. So I have some more pearls of wisdom for you all.

If your HoH starts a sentence with "You better hope..." it's a good idea to pay attention because the sentence is probably not going to end with "or I'm going to send you to the spa for the day then take you out to a romantic dinner followed by mind-blowing sex that gives you multiple orgasms." It's going to be more like "You better hope I have a clean towel when I get out of the shower or I'm going to blister your tail."

When saying something rude when your HoH is around, it's important to make sure they know that the comment wasn't directed towards them. Otherwise they might somehow get the idea you called them an asshole and respond accordingly.

And along those same lines, if you try to say that rude remark was not directed towards them when it was, you're probably going to get spanked not only for the rude remark, but also lying about it.

Interrupting your HoH's warning about attitude to tell them "bite me" is a very bad idea. Doing it while your bottom is uncovered and therefore unprotected borders on insanity.

Spankings on a cold bottom hurt more so either stay out of trouble in the winter or find a way to warm your buns before the spanking.

The shower is not the best place to smart off. Smarting off right after you get out isn't the best idea either.

And last, but not least: The same HoH who can't hear you calling him for dinner when he is three feet away will suddenly develop supersonic hearing when you make a sassy remark under your breath on the other end of the house. He will be able to hear it despite every TV in the house being on, fire trucks and ambulances going by with their sirens wailing, the dogs barking and your child singing at the top of her lungs.

Monday, January 14, 2013

A Surprising End to Our Bet

When I proposed our little bet, I clearly didn't think it through very well. If I had, I would have waited for a week that wasn't already shaping up to be a stressful one. Instead I let my mouth get ahead of my head and plunged right into a stressful week with Steve having some extra incentive to be consistent. Needless to say, I got a lot more spankings than I had planned on.

As the week progressed, I got more and more stressed. I knew that at the end of the week we would be driving over to see my family. While I was looking forward to seeing some family members, the recent friction with my mom had me dreading the trip as well.

Steve could tell I was stressing because I kept getting more and more worked up about it. Now I don't know about you guys, but when I get stressed, I tend to get a bit moody and snappish. Somehow I managed to keep that to a minimum, but it was clear to both of us that it probably was going to end with me over his knee.

The night before we were set to leave, I seriously considered asking for a spanking to help pull me out of it and hopefully help me keep it together during our little trip. But Steve was tired so I ended up not doing it.

The next morning while we were getting ready to leave, it was clear that my mood was heading downhill fast. Steve surprised me by not spanking or even giving a warning, but pulling me into his arms for a hug and then rubbing some of the tension out of my neck and shoulders.

During the trip, he kept up a constant stream of chatter about anything and everything, not giving me much opportunity to dwell on the upcoming visit with my mom. Whenever I got quiet and he could tell I was starting to think about it, he'd reach over and squeeze my leg and then say something so random that he would get me cracked up. As a result, we actually had a pleasant drive over.

Since my mom's house was going to be our last stop of the day, I was actually able to relax a bit and enjoy visiting with everyone. Steve kept a close eye on me all day, coming over if he saw I was getting stressed to give me a hug, kiss, a squeeze on the bottom or rub my neck for a minute.

Once we left there and were on the way to my mom's house, the tension returned. He went back to chattering again and reaching over to squeeze my leg from time to time. When we got there, it was as tense as I had expected. I nearly turned and walked away when my mom answered the door because her attitude was so cold. But my daughter had been looking forward to seeing her grandma so I went on in.

I won't bore you with all the details of that particular visit, but suffice it to say that it did not go well at all. By the time we left there, there was steam coming out of my ears and my mood had taken a definite turn for the worst. Steve was sympathetic while I vented, then he went back to squeezing my leg and chattering.

As a result, I made it through the whole stressful situation without snapping at him once, something that surprised us both. He could have spanked before our trip as a reminder to watch my mood and probably would have had to spank again when we got home because of my mood, but he didn't.

Instead, he kept reminding me in little ways all day long that he was there for me and I could lean on him. And because he handled it that way, I was able to let go of the tension and actually enjoy my time with other family members and then lean on him when the visit with my mom didn't go well. And even though I still vented some anger, it was to him, not at him.

Normally when I get stressed, I turn inward. I pull all those feelings inside, block them up behind a wall and try to go on. Of course, this doesn't do much good because eventually I run out of room and all the anger and frustration comes shooting out in a not so pretty explosion.

Thanks to the way Steve handled things, I didn't do that this time. So when I snuggled up in his arms last night, I thanked him for helping me get through it. It would have been easy for him to just focus on dealing with the result of the stress. But he made the effort to help me handle the problem and because he did, we both got through it without that explosion.

Saturday, January 12, 2013

Grace Returned

I woke up yesterday morning with a headache. It wasn't a migraine, but after years of suffering from them, I can usually tell when a regular headache is going to turn into one. Unfortunately this was one of those cases. By the time I got our daughter off to school and Steve off to work, it was already worsening.

While I have migraine pills, I'm trying to not take them unless I absolutely have to because I need to make them last as long as I can. Our health insurance recently ran out so I now have to pay full price for that prescription rather than my copay. At nearly $10 a pill without insurance (for the generic), they're not really affordable so unless I get really desperate and we have the extra money, I'm probably not going to be refilling that prescription any time soon.

Mini rant alert. Whatever genius prices medicines that high needs their head examined. If they had to live on our budget with no insurance for just a month or two, they'd realize how unreasonable their prices are and how many people go without needed medications simply because they can't afford it. There's just no excuse for them letting people suffer so they can line their pockets. End rant.

Anyway, rather than take one of my pills like I usually do when I feel one coming on, I decided to go lay down and try to sleep it off before it hit full intensity. This sometimes works to head one off so it was worth a shot before I broke down and took one of the few pills I had left.

I ended up sleeping pretty much all day until it was time to pick our daughter up. The sleep had helped some as the headache was only slightly worse than it had been before I laid down. So I decided to just stick it out as long as I could.

Unfortunately, since I had slept most of the day, I still had chores that I needed to do. I did the best I could considering the circumstances, but wasn't able to get everything done. Rather than wait for Steve to find out when he checked after getting home, I told him as soon as he came in the door. He didn't say anything about it, just went to play with our daughter so I could cook supper in peace.

Later it occurred to me to ask if I was in trouble. I was really hoping he would say no but figured with our little bet still going, he might not want to back down. He surprised me by offering me grace. He said he appreciated me doing as much as I had considering how I felt and even if it meant losing our bet, he wasn't going to punish me over it.

You know sometimes I forget how suited he really is to the role of HoH. He could have been a jerk about it and insisted on following through all in the name of winning our silly bet. But he realized that this was a unique situation that needed to be handled differently, that it was more important for him to do the right thing rather than make his decision based on a bet.

I'm proud of him. These past seven months have brought an amazing amount of change and growth in both of us. But I have never felt more convinced that I made the right choice in asking him to lead than I did yesterday. He showed me what a true HoH is.

And for what it's worth, I told him he didn't lose the bet over his decision. Tomorrow is the last day of our little wager and I have no doubt that if needed, he will step up. As far as I'm concerned, he's already won. Of course so have I because I've got the consistency I wanted with the grace I needed. And that's what this really is all about, finding the balance that works for us.

Friday, January 11, 2013

House Hunting Blues

I haven't really mentioned it here yet, but we have been looking around for a house to buy. We originally started talking about it when we moved into our current place a little over a year ago. We figured with the difference in rent, we could put that money back into savings towards a down payment. In the meantime, any extra money we have is also funneled into savings. We figured by the end of our lease, we'd have a fairly decent chunk of money to work with.

Then we started having issues with our landlord so we decided that if we could find the right house at the right price, we would go ahead and buy now rather than waiting out the lease. We can break the lease without penalty as long as we give enough notice so that's not an issue. However, it does mean we have less money to work with.

Unfortunately, having less money to work with means our options are pretty limited. The right price for us means settling for houses like this tiny one


or this one in a bad neighborhood


or this one that's falling apart


None of which we really want. Then I noticed that a house I had previously fell in love with when we were looking at a higher price range had been reduced. The reduction brought it down to our new price range.

It was an older house, but had nearly everything on our wish list. The catch was it was listed as a renovation project. However, since Steve works in construction, that wasn't a major sticking point for us as long as the renovations needed weren't too much. I had did a little research and found out that there is a type of loan that rolls the house purchase and money for renovation into a single loan so we were even willing to go that route if it needed a little more than we felt comfortable tackling ourselves.

Over the weekend, we went to check out the house. We went without the realtor so we could only look at it from the outside and peek in the windows, but from what we could see, we liked it. We did notice a few things that would need to be fixed, but they weren't anything too major so Steve told me to call the realtor and see about getting a real tour.

I was a little hesitant. After all, this was my dream house and I was afraid that the realtor would mention something that would make it impossible for us to get the house. The fact that the house had been on the market for a while added to my fears. So I kept putting off calling until Steve told me to call or else.

Unfortunately, I was right. The realtor told me that the house needed major renovations, renovations that we wouldn't be comfortable handling ourselves. She estimated that would probably cost 2-4 times what we would pay for the house just for the renovations. I was actually kind of surprised at how much she said it needed because it really doesn't look like it from the outside. The final nail in the coffin was her announcement that since the house did need so much work, it was considered distressed, therefore it was impossible to get a loan on it.

Needless to say, I was crushed. Now it's back to the drawing board.

Thursday, January 10, 2013

Inquiring Minds

This morning as I checked out my backside in the mirror to see if there were any visible reminders from last night*, a thought occurred to me. It was totally random, but it stuck in my head.

So what was that thought?

Does spanking tone your butt? Call me crazy, but as I looked in the mirror, it seemed to be that my butt was looking better than it had just a few months before. It looked more firm and toned. Since I haven't changed my diet or exercise habits, the only thing I can think of (aside from wishful thinking) is that spanking must have something to do with it.

So I did a little research. I was happy to see that I was not the only person that had this crazy thought. According to this link, in response to the question "Does spanking firm and tone your butt?", the answer is


So now we can chalk another benefit up to spanking. Not only does it discourage bad behavior, relieve stress, ease guilt, reaffirm our roles and probably ten other things that I can't think of right now, but it also helps make us look better from behind.

Now I wonder if there's a link between muscle tone in the arms and spanking...



*If you're wondering how last night went, I did get spanked, but he did offer a little grace in that it was less than he had originally planned. And this time my little hero interfered a lot sooner. As soon as he saw the paddle, even before a single swat was given, he climbed on my backside and started barking at Steve. So we waited until he fell asleep under the blanket before proceeding, only to have him come running out to protect me as soon as he heard the first swat. Needless to say, we ended up having to put him out for the remainder of the spanking.

Wednesday, January 9, 2013

Grace Offered

After already getting spanked once over the living room, I was determined that it wasn't going to happen again. So I got an early start with the errands I had to run so I would have the entire afternoon to focus on it. I knew it wasn't going to take that long, but I wanted to be sure I had a time cushion in case something unexpected came up.

By the time Steve got in from work, I was feeling pretty good about my accomplishment. I had even did a few things that he probably wouldn't have even cared about (like straightening the coat closet that's in the living room). So you can imagine my dismay when he said nope, it's not done yet.


Once I got over my shock at him saying that, I asked why. He then proceeded to rattle off five things he felt like I missed. The only problem was that two of those things weren't even in the living room (one was the hall and the other in our bedroom). He had me on one thing. The other two were part of the living room, but I felt like he was nit-picking on those.

But since I've agreed to let him lead how he sees fit (even if I disagree with his decision), I was going to take the punishment anyway. However, I wasn't going to take it without respectfully sharing my opinion first, which I did. But the whole thing became a moot point when he fell asleep without doing it.

At first, I was kind of happy about it. One, I got out of a spanking that I felt was unfair. Two, by him not following through, he lost our consistency bet.


But then I started thinking. I knew he had had two very long days of work back to back. I knew that, just like me, he's still been dealing with some lingering fatigue from the flu we had last month. I knew he was tired. He looked exhausted.

And when I looked back over the past seven months since we started all this, I could name several occasions when he offered me grace because he knew I was tired or sick or just plain overwhelmed. In some of those cases, that grace had been offered when, in all honesty, I couldn't have blamed him for blistering my tail because even I knew I deserved it.

I thought about it last night and some more this morning. This morning while I was fixing his lunch, I asked what he wanted me to do today. It was then that it occurred to him that by falling asleep, he'd lost the bet.

So I surprised him. I offered him grace. I told him that no, he hadn't lost our bet. That I wasn't going to hold it against him because he was tired from working all day to support our family. And that he had until midnight tonight to carry out whatever he felt was needed.


While I always appreciate it when he offers me grace, I sometimes get frustrated because he's also being inconsistent. However, after this, I think I better understand why he does occasionally offer it.  Because sometimes it's nice to cut someone a break when you know they have a lot on their plate.

The funny thing about all this is that I made this bet with him to help him learn to be more consistent, but I've learned something in the process as well.

I just hope he remembers that grace tonight. Now if you'll excuse me for a bit, I have five little things to take care of.

Tuesday, January 8, 2013

She's Out to Get Me


I told you last week about my daughter tattling on me after I had specifically told her not to tell Steve something. Steve got a kick out of it and I jokingly said that she was out to get me. After yesterday, I'm wondering if she really is trying.

Yesterday's chore was to clean the living room. Admittedly, it was overdue for a good cleaning. I still hadn't taken down the tree and Christmas decorations. There were toys strewn from one end to the other. It was a bit of a mess.

As I cleaned, I realized that probably 90% of the mess was our daughter's. So I cleaned up most of the room, but decided to make her pick up the rest when she got home from school. That's where I hit the problem. She picked up a couple things and then quit.

Since I was busy working on something else in another room, I didn't catch it right away. By the time I did, I was in the middle of cooking supper and Steve was pulling in the driveway. Needless to say, it didn't get finished.

Even though the room looked a lot better than it had when I started, Steve doesn't consider a chore done unless it's completely finished. I explained the situation and hoped for the best. While he agreed with my decision about making her pick up some of the mess since it was mostly hers, he said it was ultimately my responsibility to make sure it was done. That meant either doing it myself or making sure she did what she was told. So I still got in trouble.

Since the chore in question was part of my gambling spree the previous week, he wanted to make a point. And he did. When I came to bed, he pulled back the blanket for me, only to reveal the paddle he already had got out. It was not pleasant at all. There was no warmup, just hard rapid-fire swats that had me squirming and yelping pretty much immediately.

But I did get a little lucky. He was close to being done, but planning on a few more extra-hard swats to make sure I got the point when our dog interfered. He didn't growl at Steve or try to bite the paddle like he has before. Instead, he laid down across my backside. My hero. So rather than fight the dog, Steve stopped there. Did I mention how much I love this dog?


Today, I'm definitely feeling the results of that spanking. It was not an easy one and I tensed up, something I try not to do. Normally Steve notices if I'm tensing and will stop to urge me to relax, but he didn't last night. So while I don't have a single mark on my backside, the muscles I tensed during the spanking are definitely sore.

Sunday, January 6, 2013

Betting on Consistency

As any gambler can tell you, even a long-running good streak will eventually come to an end. After all, the odds are always weighted towards the house. This is where compulsive gamblers run into problems. They are riding the high of a good streak when their luck suddenly takes a turn. They keep on playing trying to get back to where they were, only to find themselves running through their entire winnings (and sometimes more) in the process.

Yesterday I was already thinking about backing away from the table. I'd already had three days of my streak and figured my luck was bound to run out sooner or later. And I probably would have gave in except Steve did something that upset me.

He was outside working on his truck. I went out to see how it was going, but didn't stay long because one of our neighbors was talking to him and it was pretty cold out. So I turned to go back in the house only to hear him tell me (not ask me) to go do a specific chore. It rubbed me the wrong way, but I probably could have shook it off and things would have been fine.

Except he followed up that order with a statement that I knew what would happen if I didn't do it. Now he's said stuff like that before, but never in front of someone else. While he didn't say exactly what would happen, the way it was said it was obvious that there would be some sort of consequence. That ticked me off so I told him no, then walked in the house.

Later Steve came in the house and noticed I was a little cranky. I got a warning, but then he saw I hadn't worked on the chore in question so he changed that warning to a definite announcement that I was getting a spanking. Seeing as how he had already said that a couple times this week and not followed through, I wasn't too worried. That combined with my mood ended up with me responding with a "yeah right."

When I went to our bedroom after getting our daughter down for the night, I found Mr. Consistency had returned. Needless to say, he wasn't happy about the recent gambling on my part or the remarks I had made throughout the day. He sent me to retrieve the implements he had decided on and then told me to get in position.

I was still pretty upset with him at that point and, while I retrieved the implements he wanted, I knew there was no way a spanking was going to do anything but make me madder. So I asked if we could talk first.

I started with the remark made in front of the neighbor. He apologized before I was even done telling him about it, but said he didn't remember doing it. He did promise to be more careful about what he said when others were around so I let it go.

Then we talked about consistency, the recent lack thereof, and how it plays a role in how I react. We ended up having a pretty long discussion about it. I let him know how I struggle with maintaining my submissiveness when I'm not feeling his dominance. And I told Steve that when I knew there was a good chance he wouldn't react, I was more likely to risk it.

Finally once all the talking was done, it was time to handle other business. It wasn't pleasant, but it wasn't as bad as I had suspected it might be. I suspect he tempered it a little because he felt bad for not nipping it in the bud to start instead of letting it keep going. That and my little hero started barking at him (Steve forgot to put him out).

A little later, we were laying in bed just snuggling and watching a movie. It was then that a thought crossed my mind and before I could really think it through, it popped out of my mouth. I bet him he couldn't make it a week without letting something go. The next thing I know we had negotiated terms and he had agreed to the bet. It's going to be an interesting week.

Saturday, January 5, 2013

I'm a Gambler

Last night I spent a few hours trying to write a post about how we've been going lately. As sometimes happens when I'm trying to write a post about something before I've fully processed it, I kept hitting a wall. Finally, I gave up and went to bed, figuring it might come together better after a good night's sleep.

I was just about to drift off to sleep when it hit me. I'm a gambler.

No, not like this



Or this



Or this one either


Not even this one


Although I've got a knack for that one. I once won an amateur poker tournament that started with several tables of people playing and ended with me going head to head against a guy that had been playing longer than I've been alive. What made it even more amazing is that I had only learned how to play a month or so before that. But I digress.

My kind of gambling doesn't cost us money (or win it for that matter). You see Steve is a bit of a yo-yo when it comes to consistency. Sometimes I can't get away with anything. About time I get used to that, he starts letting things slide. Then I slip and slide for a bit until he gets back to being consistent again, at which point we start the cycle all over again.


His most recent bout with being Mr. Consistency has ended the same way as previous ones. After the first couple days, which were pretty rough, I made the adjustment and found my submissiveness. Then Mr. Consistency disappeared. I tried to maintain that submissiveness, but it started slipping away.

So I start playing the odds. I gamble that if I do something that would normally land me in trouble, he's going to be in the inconsistent phase. Sometimes my bet pays off, sometimes it doesn't. But since it pays off more than it doesn't, I keep gambling.

Now I know that this tactic isn't really cohesive with submissiveness. To have a truly submissive heart, I need to keep on track whether he's being consistent or not. But I haven't reached that point yet in our journey.

I need to feel his dominance in order to maintain my submissiveness. I'm not just talking about spanking, but general things that show me he's still in charge. Things like giving me a look or warning when I start dancing a little too close to the fire, telling me I need to put on a jacket because it's cold outside or simply telling me "That's enough. Let it go." when he sees I'm getting worked up over something that I can't change.

In the right time and place, gambling can be fun. But it's also risky because it's easy to get addicted if you're not careful. Obviously, our relationship isn't where I need to be gambling and I don't want to get addicted to it either. So sometimes I wish Steve would just give me a sign, something like this:


Or else

Wednesday, January 2, 2013

He's Got My Back and Ive Got His

We always want to protect those that we care about. It's true whether you're talking about a mother and child, a husband and wife or even good friends. That protective instinct is born out of love for each other. But I've noticed that over the past few months since we began this journey, that need to protect each other has grown and evolved to a new level.

As most of you know, I've been at odds with my mom for a few months now. It's difficult, not only on me, but also my family who has to deal with the emotional roller coaster I'm on as a result of the situation. Steve has been a rock for me, listening to me when I needed to vent, supporting me and holding me when I get teary. The one thing he hasn't done is interfere.

At least he didn't try to until this week. I don't know if it's his recent HoH growth spurt making him feel more protective or he was just tired of the situation, but he had had enough. He told me that he was tired of her upsetting me and he was going to call her and tell her to leave me alone. To ensure she didn't bother me anyway, he was going to block her number on my phone.

Unfortunately I had a knee-jerk reaction to him saying that. You see prior to us getting together, I was in a relationship with a guy who was very controlling. I was only allowed to see the people who he approved of, none of which were my family or friends. Even though our house was less than five minutes from my parents, I only saw them a handful of times in the years I was with him. As a result, when I got out of that toxic relationship, I swore that no one, no matter who they were, was going to block me from seeing or talking to my family.


Thankfully, Steve caught on pretty quickly to why I reacted the way I did and he got me to talk to him. Logic set in and I realized that he wasn't trying to be a controlling jerk. He just wanted to help. So I thanked him for wanting to protect me, but told him I preferred to handle it myself. But it's nice to know he's got my back.

Then a similar situation happened in reverse. It's a long story so I won't bore you with all the details, but basically what it boils down to is that when Steve went to his dad for help in a moment of weakness, his dad took advantage of the situation and majorly screwed him over.

Steve's a nice guy, something a lot of people take advantage of, but you don't expect family to do it. I was upset over it, but trying to keep quiet because I knew Steve was bothered by the situation. Finally I hit my limit. I couldn't stand seeing him so hurt over it so I told him I would take care of it. Then I picked up my phone to give my father-in-law a piece of my mind and tell him where he could stick his deal because it wasn't going to happen.


I was so mad I kept mis-dialing, which is probably the only reason Steve was able to snatch the phone out of my hands before I hit send. Just like I had done only a day or two before, he told me he appreciated the fact I cared enough to want to fix something I could see was upsetting him, but this was something he needed to handle himself. But he liked the fact I had his back.

A year ago, I'm not so sure either of us would have been so quick to go to battle on the other one's behalf. We loved each other and looked out for each other of course, but it was different then.

These days, now that the protective instinct has kicked into overdrive, I pity the person who upsets one of us. Because when they do, they don't just have to deal with one of us, they have to deal with both of us. Because he's got my back and I've got his.



And if you're wondering, the pictures are from the movie Mr. & Mrs. Smith, one of my all time favorites. The movie actually kind of suits me and Steve. Just like them, we used to go along leading separate lives with neither one of us aware of what was truly going on with the other person. But then we rekindled our relationship and now we're united against the world.

Tuesday, January 1, 2013

Don't Tell Daddy

You may recall that we were both trying to quit smoking. That didn't go well. So Steve decided if we were going to continue smoking, we needed to find a cheaper option to do it. He got supplies and a rolling machine, showed me how to roll my own cigarettes and then told me I was not to buy another pack. It is quite a bit cheaper, but it takes longer so we both end up smoking less as well, which I'm sure was part of the reason he insisted on the change.

Aside from buying a pack the very first week, which he let me off the hook for but warned he wouldn't be so forgiving the next time, I haven't bought another pack. Until yesterday.

I woke up to find we were out of supplies. Since I knew I had to run errands anyway, I decided to just wait and pick them up while I was out. But nothing was going right yesterday and by the time I made my fourth errand stop, I was feeling pretty frazzled. Since I still hadn't got my supplies or made it home to roll a cigarette, I was ready to climb the walls.

So as we stood in line waiting to check out, I was eying the cigarette display. Our daughter must have saw where my attention was focused because she reminded me that daddy said not to buy any. Yet even with her warning, when the cashier finished ringing up our stuff and asked if that was all, I asked for a pack. Then I turned to our daughter.

Don't tell Daddy.

A few minutes later, we were putting things in the car and she asked why not. So I told her he wouldn't be happy that I had did it after he asked me not to. She got quiet then and I could tell her brain was churning.

Then it hit me like a brick what I had just done. In telling her to not tell Steve because he'd be upset with me, I was teaching her not to confess when she did something she wasn't supposed to, to keep quiet about misbehavior to stay out of trouble. I was also teaching her that honesty wasn't something that was needed in a marriage. That's NOT what I want to teach her.

So I had to fix it. Once we were back on the road headed towards home, I explained that I didn't want her to tell him because it was important that when you mess up, you are the one that admits to it. I told her that it's always better to confess yourself rather than hope that it doesn't come out some other way. It's a matter of respect. Then I promised I would tell him myself when he got home from work.

And I kept that promise. Even though I knew the consequences of it, I confessed shortly after he got home. But she beat me to it and he already knew. After hearing about my day and the fact that I hadn't smoked all day at the point I broke down and bought the pack, and taking into consideration the fact that I had confessed, he let me off the hook with only a warning.