“I’ll spank you for it later…”

I finally broke down. After all the stress and emotional crap swimming around inside my head… it happened. The flood gates opened and everything came out at once (this is why my HoH doesn’t like me to hold things in). The way it happened was such that I think it took my hubby by surprise. I had just gotten out of the shower and was wrapped in a towel, when one of the kids began crying upstairs. He made no move to go upstairs and see what the problem was, so I did. He asked “Where you going baby?”, “The baby is crying.” I replied. He followed me up the stairs and then told me to go back down and finish my shower, and he would take car of the kids. By the time I got back down the stairs, I was sobbing, and I hadn’t really any idea why. Perhaps that I can’t have 5 seconds of peace without a crisis? I don’t know, but it was the straw and I was the camel.

When my Hoh got back down stairs he saw me in tears, and with a confused look he proceeded to hug me and ask why I was crying. Unable to contain myself I blurted out several overwhelming things on my mind at the moment, “I can’t even take a shower without having to run up the stairs and it hurts. The house is a mess, and I hurt too bad to clean it. The kids need baths, and I have school work to do, and I just don’t have it in me to do it all and I feel like I’m failing you.” *Insert hysterical sobbing here*

“hey… baby, the house is not a mess. It’s not that bad. All you have to worry about is kids’ baths and your school work. Everything else can wait.” He said to me as calmly as ever.

“But it is that bad, because if I don’t keep up on the house it will never get clean, and it’ll get messier and be more work if I wait to clean it. You deserve a clean home to be in and I’m breaking the rules by not keeping it up.”

He took a deep breath, kissed my forehead and said “School work, baths. I will take care of the rest. Now finish your shower.”

“Yes, Sir.” He hates it when I call him Sir, but sometimes it just comes out.

I finished my shower and proceeded upstairs where I found him getting ready to vacuum and scrubbing down the dining room table. Aw. My heart felt better and worse at the same time. It was his day off, and a Sunday of all days (we are Christian so we observe Sunday as a day or rest). My sweet hubby. How good he is to me.

Later, I apologized for not being able to get my chores done and breaking down on him, and this was his reply; “It’s not your fault. You have health problems that I was aware of when we got together. This would be like me expecting our son to do his regular chores with a broken leg. It wouldn’t be his fault he couldn’t do it, and this isn’t your fault. You do the best you can, but if it’ll make you feel better I’ll spank you for it later.”

I nodded and nuzzled myself into his arms. Crisis averted. I am truly blessed to have this man in my life.


When bad days get worse.

The past two days have been hard, and today isn’t any better. The pain  is at it’s peak and of course, it’s during a time when I can’t afford to stop and rest. All six kids on the weekends means that I have to be on my game Friday through Sunday.Plus my school work is due Thursday and exams due Sunday.

On top of that, this Saturday was when my Hoh has six of his friends over for a day of D&D playing in the basement. I do enjoy having his friends over. They are all very polite and I like to watch them play. It’s just makes a lot of work for me. Cooking for 14 people. Refereeing kids and changing diapers (we currently have three in diapers) plus running up and down the stairs delivering latte’s and food. Then between cleaning up the aftermath and doing all the stuff I didn’t have time to do because I was doing everything else…. I feel like I’m going to explode. The pain is excruciating every time I move. I had the shakes last night and still this morning a little bit.

My house is an utter disaster, the kids are extra naughty today, I’m trying to study for an exam and can’t because I’m up and down the stairs trying to make sure the kids don’t damage one another, and I can’t seem to get things clean. We ran out of dish soap and laundry detergent, I have been 4 days without anti-depressant because I haven’t had time to pick up my prescription and now they need to fax the doctor for a refill. Hubby yelling at the football game because our team is losing, and now there’s another child screaming upstairs.

I feel like screaming, and crying and going back to bed, but I can’t…. There’s things to be done and children to care for. I’m fighting back the tears because it’s just all so much. I know I could ask for help, my my hubby works so hard, I want him to have his weekends to rest and relax. I hate having to ask for help. I just want a clean house, more importantly, the ability to clean it. I look around and the dishes in the sink and the unvacuumed carpet, unwiped counter-tops…. I breaks my heart. My family deserves better.

Sigh…. “There he is”…..

Sometimes I find myself taken aback by my husband. His eyes, the way he moves, the way he looks when he’s talking about something he’s passionate about. I find my breathe taken away. Isn’t that only for fairy tails?

I don’t know, but I do know that being with him feels like heaven on earth compared to how my life has been with anyone else. The other men in my life have always specialized in making me feel worthless by constantly criticizing me. I was never allowed to be angry, or sad. I couldn’t cry, get sick…. I couldn’t be human without being persecuted every time I turned around. I was accused of being selfish, cold, vindictive, spiteful,  “slutty”, of lying, cheating, and much more every day. I either talked too much or too little around other people, I was too excited about things or not excited enough, and I was never able to have a moment of imperfection or weakness without being accused of manipulating or purposely hurting others.

My ex husband was a severe alcoholic and suffered seizures and violent illness when he drank, and still would not stop drinking… yet I was selfish for not wanting to sit in the ER with him and beg the ER doc to give him the pain meds he was hooked on when I was 9 months pregnant and supposed to be on bed-rest. Two or three times a week it was always the same. He would sneak alcohol and max out his pain medication, and when he wasn’t sick he was a mean drunk. He would feel guilty about it the next day and lay in bed for days whining about what a failure he was and how he was tired of being sick all the time and then go out and do it again. He’d leave our newborn daughter crying in her bed so that he could play poker on his phone. Once, he slit his writs in the bathtub after getting a DUI and barely survived, yet still I was expected to enable him…. to respect him. There’s no respecting a man like that. There just isn’t.

Now, my husband doesn’t understand why I think he’s so wonderful, when he does what’s best for the family, when he’s kind and understanding when I’m feeling emotional. When he cares enough to spank me when I need it, and hold me when I need it, and listen to me when I need it. He’s so kind and patient, so loving and devoted. He will just grab me and kiss me for no reason at all, other than that he loves me. He makes sure I know he appreciates what I do for him and for the family, and never lets me doubt myself. So it’s really no wonder at all that I see him and get butterflies and my heart skips a beat…. he’s my hero.

To pick a fight…

I always wondered why in the world anyone would pick a fight with a spouse on purpose. What possible good could come of that? Always seemed super illogical to me, that is, until this morning.

I want attention. He’s been so distracted lately, and the usual attention that I get hasn’t really been there. He’s even been very lax with the rules, allowing me to get away with things he normally would not. I’m feeling utterly neglected and found myself with an urge to pick a fight just to get him to focus on me. I’m not normally this insecure, but I’ve been on this PMS roller coaster that’s way worse than usual, plus I’ve had a kidney infection and pneumonia this past week as well so I’m just crazy emotional and need affection so badly. I feel like if I tell him it will ruin it, and it would make him feel bad. Not like I can just traipse about the house naked to get his attention as I’ve done before. But if I push him… that maybe he will get angry and give me a good paddling, which isn’t fun, but afterwords I always feel so attended to, and cared for…. I really need that right now.

However, as tempting as it is, I don’t think that picking a fight is the solution to my problem…. especially because we never fight and he would probably think I’d lost my mind. So, perhaps I’ll just crawl across his lap and hope for the best….

Issues and frustrations

My Hoh’s exwife is a completely wretched human being and I’m fairly positive she fits all of of the DSM-5 criteria for Dissociative Personality Disorder, leaning toward text-book psychopath. I never understood how my husband could have been with someone like her. According to him he was never happy and knows she’s not a good person. But I still notice him defending her. This person never does anything unless it directly benefits her, and yet he’s always surprised to learn that she’s neglected the children or done something just to manipulate him. I’m extremely frustrated with this, and it happens every time we have the kids. I feel guilty for letting it upset me and so I don’t get angry at him and when he asks what’s wrong, I don’t say anything. I can’t force him to see her for what she is, a vicious  psychopath. He just assumes she has human emotions or actually cares about the children for more than what they get her. I’m not  exaggerating, she really is that cold.
I’m not sure how to deal with this.
The fact that he sees her as a good person  scares me. Even after all she has done to him and the children, he assumes she’s capable of empathy, or genuine love and she isn’t. I’ve known too many people like her to not know what her violent and unpredictable nature means. I wonder if his seeing her this way makes him vulnerable to her manipulation.  She’s succeeded more than once in getting him to do things for her just by throwing a fit and guilting him in to it. I’m hurt and frustrated and I almost feel betrayed. Why is it so hard for me? Maybe because I’ve been in this position before and the psychopath always won. I can’t compete with someone without conscience whose willing to go to any lengths to get what they want and what she want is my husband. I feel so helpless.


Well… Thanksgiving went as smoothly as I could have asked for it to go. Though while my mother was here an incident got me thinking… got me wondering why. Kids in bed, my HOH , my Mother, and I, sat down to watch a show on Netflix. The show Hoh and I are currently watching is Criminal Minds. He hasn’t seen it, though I’ve seen every episode at least twice. The next episode in the line up happened to be one where there was girl tied up and beaten, and it showed it rather graphically. My mother couldn’t handle watching it and we had to change it. Then later, I was showing my mother some of the new dresses I had gotten and she saw the leather paddle we have hanging off the closet door, and the crop seated above the bed. She didn’t say anything about it, but the look of horror on her face was obvious. That’s when I realized that my version of “normal” would terrify my mother. Granted, my mother is a very sensitive, and quite over dramatic person, where I am more logic driven. Still, I was a bit taken aback by the reality that what brings me joy in my life would traumatize many women.

Why is it that I feel this way about being disciplined physically? Have I been damaged? Has being raped, abused, and molested, abandoned, and abused more damaged me so deeply that I now require being dominated to feel secure? Or, am I simply craving my primal role as a woman? My logical mind is seeking a purpose for the way I feel…. a reason why. The majority of society labels dominant/submissive relationships as dysfunctional ones. Women are taught that we should be equal to men, or even superior to them in many ways. Leaving men emasculated, and without their natural role in a relationship. Women feel entitled, as if we are constantly being wronged by men. EQUALITY! WOMEN’S RIGHTS! But where has that gotten us? It’s gotten us a crap load of trouble, that’s where. A higher divorce rate, more responsibilities than we can handle, and a primed and polished “victim” mentality that ensures men get the short end of the stick even if they are guilty of nothing.

So… why?? Why am I so comfortable in the submissive role that I have chosen? Is it dysfunction? Or am I simply letting myself fall into my God-given role as a women… as the biblical “help-mate” role?

Thanksgiving anxieties

Thanksgiving is fast approaching and this will be my first time as hostess for the feast. More importantly, my mother is coming for a visit and it will be her first visit since we began formally practicing DD.  My mother is a woman with a good heart but who sees every man as someone who is looking for a reason to hurt men. While she likes my husband, what she will say when she sees me asking permission for things or doing as I’m told, I can only imagine.  I am not about to just give up our lifestyle while she’s here, but I almost wish she wasn’t coming. HOH doesn’t seem concerned in the slightest, her opinion matters very little to him. I should really follow suit. However, I have a difficult time taking criticism from my mother and she always seems to have spades to offer.
She says things like “I don’t know how he can stand living with you in that mess.” Which is her way of saying my house is not clean to her standards. I know she means well and has absolutely no idea that her words are so stinging though I’ve informed her countless times.  She also crosses boundaries with the children.  Encouraging them to ask for toys just because (we encourage them to work for what they want ), or telling them things we’d rather our children didn’t know.
I know HOH won’t stand for her criticism long before he puts her in her place, but then what happens is she says something to me about how “cold” he was to her or something like that.  Then I argue with her, because I’m not about to stand and listen to her talk about him as if he were anything less than the kind, respectable and loving man that he is, but I don’t want to argue.  I frankly just don’t want to deal with it. 
Of course, this is all just conjecture.  Everything could go fabulously…. but I doubt it and I’m trying to be realistic.  What I want most of all is to  just tell her the truth, but she would fly off the handle before I finished my sentence. I very much dislike that a lifestyle that brings me so much joy must remain a secret.

A lot to take

I have six children, college, a home to manage, fibromyalgia and sclerosis (degeneration) of the spine…. waaaahhh!

Some nights are so hard. I desperately need sleep and yet here I am… 1am not sleeping. The inflammation becomes almost unbearable at times and my legs feel like they are on fire. With fibromyalgia comes chronic insomnia which there is not medication to treat due to dependency issues (that would be the last thing I need). Even though tonight I’m tired for once, I can’t sleep because my feet and legs are inflamed. It’s times like these when I’d really love a good epidural.

I’m fortunate that my husband has not enforced a bed time. He know’s I’d sleep if I could because I’m so exhausted all day every day. It’s times like these that I’m sick and tired of being sick and tired. It’s just all so very overwhelming. I know what my husband expects of me around the house which is not unreasonable by any stretch of the imagination, but it is still so overwhelming. What I wouldn’t give to have just one day of rest. Uninterrupted… rest. However, it’s just not possible with my life and responsibilities. Especially because when my stepchildren are here, they need me to be there for them because their mother is not emotionally available. Quite frankly, she’s a portrait of psychopathology. Angry and unpredictable, incapable of empathy, and selfish to a fault. I feel for them, and the youngest is just two. My children are young as well, the youngest being 22 months old. The eldest is my son who is 8 and has high functioning autism, as does my middle daughter. This is a lot for one momma.

People learn of my situation and always seem to get the same gaping look of shock on their faces. But I do alright most of the time. I have my husbands coffee (latte) ready when he comes home, home cooked dinners, and the house is well kept for one being lived in by six small children. I always feel though, that I’m never quite caught up to where I should be. There’s always another mess to clean, child crying, essay to write…. if it wasn’t for my husband I don’t know what I’d do. He can always see when I’m stressed, and bends me over for a few good-girl-spankings. I love those kind and I calm right down. When he’s away at sea it’s the hardest, because it’s just me. Granted when he’s away I have only three instead of six children, but I miss the kids too. I am proud of his service, and of who my husband is, but the alone time is heart breaking.

I suppose what I’m really trying to say is that, I love my life and my husband, but just wish I could have some down time between crises, and some sleep to go along with it. I’m a blessed woman, but a tired one nonetheless.

Ultimately Safe

Night before last I received the third friend request in a row on facebook, from a “friend” I had deleted last year. At the time I deleted her, I discovered some personal information I had posted on facebook had leaked to my eldest son’s biological father,who is not in his life, but who’s wife causes drama for me and trouble for my son constantly if she gets any ammunition. So I was shortening my friends list and deleting those who had proven themselves untrustworthy in the past and this “friend”, we’ll call her Tonya, was among those who had betrayed my trust. In my own frustration, I messaged her, asking why she continually sent me friend requests when we weren’t ever that close in the first place. The conversation turned into quite a back and forth what happened and why I felt betrayed. She claimed she didn’t remember what she had done, and apologized. I explained that I forgave her, but couldn’t risk my personal information leaking out and making my life harder.

That’s when it occurred to me, how deeply seated my trust issues are. I feel… damaged. Like all the betrayals and lies from people in my life have made me too suspicious, and too mistrusting. Then I looked at my husband sitting next to me, and thought about how many times I’ve been abused, lied to and cheated on by men. How is it that I keep a distance from everyone in the world accept this person? I never let my guard down for a minute, with friend or foe, and yet I trust this man to decide what I wear, what rules I live by, and most importantly, I trust him to discipline me. Ultimate trust.

I questioned myself for some time trying to figure out what it was about him that made me trust him so easily, especially because he himself had betrayed my trust some years ago. Then it occurred to me that the difference between my husband and the rest of the world is that he would never hurt me, or allow anyone else to hurt me in any way. I feel ultimately safe with him, and the safety results in trust. It must. I still have my insecurities of course, especially pertaining to his ex-wife. But I trust him with my life, and it’s such a relief to feel that loved and cared for. I still don’t know what to do about my trust issues with the rest of the world, but for my husband is a good place to start.

The Way We Are

We are who we are…. but who are we?
Domestic Discipline is now an essential part of my existence, but can I tell my friends? My family? About this wonderful thing we do that I love so much? Nope. Not now at least. I posted an article on my Facebook about Christian Domestic Discipline in order to gauge my friend’s and family’s reaction to the concept…. I effectively got their attention, but it wasn’t positive. Most were up in arms at the very idea of a husband spanking his wife, making rules for her, and holding her accountable. It was then that I knew it had to be a secret. It’s a terrible thing to have to hide something that brings me so much joy, so much fulfillment, so much love and closeness with my husband. But I have not only my husband’s career to consider, but also his relationship with my friends and family. Would the Navy understand? It’s a toss up. Would my mother understand? Doubtful. Would my closest friends understand? I got my answer to that when I posted the article.
So we hide it… it’s our dirty little secret that my husband spanks me. I’ve told only one person, another Navy wife that I knew would understand because she’s a very open minded person. But beyond that, my only outlet is online forums and now, this blog. How can I make people understand he’s not hurting me? I asked him to do this with me because it meets my needs and his. Do I like the punishments? Um, NO. Do I like that my Head of Household (HOH) loves me enough to hold me accountable the things that I do? YES!! But, in a feminist society where women are seen as victims and men are seen as aggressors…. there is no room for the concept of a healthy dominant/submissive relationship.