Counting My Blessings
Thanksgiving was lovely, really. Having our daughter home is a blessing, and that she is thriving, loving school, in love for the first time, feeling great about herself and her life. Well, it just fills me up. Today she and I are going together to the salon get our hair done, do some girlie stuff, and I love that.
Our older son is hanging on. He rallied for the holiday, his sister being home. Our children are all close and hearing them laugh together is even better than my chocolate “Thanksgiving Cake”. The kids started calling it that years ago. It is a recipe I learned from my grandmother and making it for celebrations feels so right. Outside of the fact that it is an astounding chocolate cake, and not much beats that, its secret ingredient is the love. The many memories I have of my grandmother teaching me to bake, the wonderful times we had together, all come to me each time I pull out my hand written recipe book.
I miss my Dad, and for the first time in quite a while the ache around losing my Mom is back with some intensity. I loved my father very much, and he was planning to be here this year with us for Thanksgiving. Grant recently asked me about the folded sweater and wool cap that is sitting in the corner of our bedroom. I don’t know quite what to do with it. They were his, items left behind when he visited last winter. They sit.
And my Dad was the last to know and love my Mom like I did. It almost feels in some way like I have lost her again. They are gone, and I just do miss them. My mother always made our family’s Thanksgiving, and Grant and I have since she died. I take out her antique ‘Wedding Band’ china, set the places with the gold flatware my grandparents gave my parents as an engagement gift, and my parents gave to Grant and me when we became engaged. It was nice to have my daughter help set the table and tell her where the things came from. I look forward to giving our daughter that flatware set one day, on her engagement. Those traditions, the connections, mean a great deal when it is what you have left. Well that, and the sense of having been well loved, and the ability to pass that love onto our children. That is everything!
My brother in law and his 15 yr old son came to share this Holiday with us. That was really nice too. Our younger sons are the exact same age, and they get along. But my nephew has been through a great deal of trauma. His mother is extremely mentally unstable and there was a difficult divorce. The boy is wounded, mostly from living with an angry and destructive mother who took out her frustrations on him with emotional abuse. My BIL just got custody of him and is trying to gently bring him back. I have the sense of being one of the few safe women in his life. We have not been close as his mother kept him away for years, but they live near the Ranch and he spent time with us this summer. Being here with us, I can see him relaxing, watching movies and playing Risk, knowing it is fine to go make himself a sandwich when he feels like it. When he came around us at the beginning if this summer he had difficulty making eye contact at all. It was painful to almost see him cringe when spoken to by an adult. He walked in here on Wednesday with his dad and hugged me. Seeing that, being able to give a little of what we are blessed to have in abundance, feels wonderful.
It’s all about the love isn’t it? Most of all, I am thankful this year that I have been fortunate enough to receive it and to give it. The secret of life.
And mixed in with all of this is Grant and I, our connection and the spanking. That simply keeps me going. His love.
It seems every Thanksgiving at some point I get called into the bedroom and threatened. “Are you going to settle down or am I going to have to give you a spanking right now?” I settled.
Then there was getting dressed for dinner together in the bedroom and the man would not get out of the way in front of my mirror. I can’t remember what I said, only the whack!
And then after dinner, I was washing dishes and he was gently fussing, wanting me to go sit down, to relax. I wanted to at least get one load through the dishwasher before I did that. So he insisted on getting me his apron and lovingly tied it around me. I turned and hugged him “Thank you honey!” and he pulled me to him and gave me a quick kiss, I am so well cared for and loved and after 28 years that is nothing to take for granted.
I am truly such a lucky gal indeed! Lots to be thankful for.
Happy Thanksgiving
This has been a most difficult year. I lost my father and Grant his step father. Our son is struggling with illness. Still we find reasons to be grateful and I am thankful for that.
I am thankful for the husband I have been blessed with, the 3 children we made and cherish, our families and friends. I am also thankful for this cyber community and the support and camaraderie it has offered us.
We wish you all a day of love, fulfillment and peace.
Sara and Grant
On 42nd Street
Grant and I met in NYC 30 yrs ago. I was 21 yrs old. I was recently graduated from college, living with two girlfriends in our own apt and, really, on my own for the first time. Living on a suburban college campus is not at all the same as living in Manhattan. I had to learn the ropes, and Grant, being older even then, at a sage 27, advised. He had traveled across country and back on his thumb multiple times, seen and done things I had never even heard of, let alone experienced. I guess you would say I was a bit naïve.
Grant had come to NYC from a small mountain town where his first job was wrangling horses. In NYC he had slept on a rooftop, rented a room in Harlem, and another in a mid-city flop house with junkies. My cowboy had been around. Over time he taught me that when you walk the streets of Manhattan, you need to look like you know where you are going, even if you don’t. You keep your hand on your bag, you do not make eye contact, and if someone unsavory talks to you, you keep walking. He explained that those women waving at the cars on 10th avenue were prostitutes, and not all the women were women. Who knew? The rules were different in the Big Apple than in the semi–rural suburban areas where I had lived.
When I ventured onto the Internet it was without my protector. Grant didn’t know, to start. When he did, after I told him and he took a look, he was not really comfortable, because it was uncharted territory for him, too. Still, I had joined a DD forum, as I was desperate to have the support and to learn, and we slowly moved ahead. Well he went slowly. To an outside observer it might have looked more like he was being dragged along. I just forged ahead as usual, ever the optimist, sure it would all be Ok and people were real and safe and kind. He would say “Sara, you are on 42nd St!” “Grant, what’s that supposed to mean?” “It means you don’t know who these people are. They could be who they say or not.” “Honey, that is ridiculous! Why would anyone do that? You don’t understand! I have gotten to know these women. They are spanked wives. Who’s going to go on a DD forum and masquerade as a spanked wife?” “Sara, That’s exactly my point. We don’t know who!” Ugh, it was maddening! I thought he was being so ridiculously over protective, and I was very used to doing as I wished anyway. The idea of obeying was very new. In fact neither of us even felt comfortable at that time with the concept of “obedience”. I was expected to “cooperate”. It meant exactly the same thing, just spoken in softer more politically correct tones. I was not allowed to use my real name, post anything specifically personal, or talk with anyone on the phone. Of course I eventually began to email, then to chat, and then did make a friend. My first real punishment spanking in our DD marriage was when I disobeyed that rule and talked on the phone to my first DD girlfriend.
You see I was desperate, driven, so in need of the connection with another woman who felt like I did, who understood, that it became intoxicating. That was three years ago and in those years we have learned a lot. I talk on the phone to a few friends who have become real life friends, and we have even traveled to meet several couples. I have friends who I met on the Internet who have become very dear to me. I am so grateful for all of that, and it has been well worth the struggle.
But, the struggle was real, and the dangers remain. Grant was right, the Internet is 42nd Street. There are executives and mom’s with strollers, and student and bums, and tourists and shoppers, hookers and junkies, and secretaries on their lunch hour and me. The difficulty is I cannot see how you are dressed, how you carry yourself, whether your face is kind or mean, your eye contact furtive or direct, your demeanor menacing or innocuous. I can’t see you. I can only read what you write and choose to show me, and it might not even be real. I have a hard time remembering that people can be simply misguided, or even mean and dangerous. I am not, and don’t expect others to be. Grant does. I guess his life experiences are just different. But I have learned, and I try hard to remember to tread in our cyber world with caution.
When Swan posted about LOL day, it got me thinking about all this again. Her post moved me. LOL Day to me is a celebration of our cyber connections in this spanko community we have all created together. I was distracted with life ‘stuff’ and posted late, but I did post. I also did go around and at least say hello to the kind people who did so on my blog. Last year I did better, and hope I will next one too. LOL day is like going to a meet and greet. Shaking hands and saying hello, “I read, I want to say hi and acknowledge you”…but I do not consider those bloggers friends. A very few are, most are not. They are spanko acquaintances. They write and I read. We share an interest. With a few we discuss our ideas thru posts back and forth. While I have found that very enriching and enjoyable, I still try to remember that I have no idea what else we may share, if anything. In the beginning on that forum, I naively thought that since I shared my heart in a genuine way, others were doing the same. I expected if I was honest and kind, others would be too. Why ever would I think that? Is it true in the world at large? It is not.
In my real life I have a very few close friends. I don’t keep a lot of light acquaintances any more because aside from having little time, I don’t really enjoy that level of interaction. In my real life I have found that there are not so many people who share my values. I have a “friend” who is the nicest gal, and then she told me she not only had an affair, but continues to be in touch with her old lover behind her husband’s back. Knowing that makes things a bit uncomfortable for me. I had a cyber friend, who is a DD wife, who also lies to her husband and ultimately lied to our forum community about me. Sadly, many people are like that, and being a spanko, a forum member or a blogger doesn’t change the facts of life.
People are people. I think that the computer screen can open a world to us, but it can also be a mirror. Just like I see a faint imaged reflected back of myself across my screen, I believe I need to remember that I may at times create a projection of myself to fill in the gaps in my cyber relationships. I don’t assume every person crossing 42nd St in Times Square is a good and friendly person, someone I can trust. I needed to learn and still need to remember that not ever person I encounter in our cyber world is someone I will want to call a friend, even if we do share an interest in spanking.
But here’s what is really wonderful. There are good people out there. Good citizens on 42nd St, good friends in blog land. There are bloggers who are smart and insightful, funny and kind. I have been fortunate to make a few cyber friends who have become real life friends, and the couples we have met have enriched our lives. It is wonderful to have friends who I not only like and respect, share values and a sense of humor with, but who also understand what it is to be a submissive woman living with a dominant man. We can talk and share and connect in a richer way. When Grant and I are with another couple, friends who also share our lifestyle, there is a connection and understanding that is relaxing and really special. He feels it too. Those friendships grew out of the Internet, and for those I am grateful. But still, not many on 42nd St will ever become my friend, and that is best to remember.
My Inner Brat
In my last post I told a little story about some ‘play’ gone wrong between my husband and myself. I know lots of women, particularly women in Dd relationships, seem to think bratting is ok. Not all do, but lots.
In truth, I think some is bound to happen. There are many reasons. Part is to tease, part is to provoke a spanking, to evoke the discipline aspect of the relationship dynamic, perhaps a bit is even to blow off steam, as Cassie suggested in her comment. I remember a year or so ago, as I explored different aspects of myself as it relates to our discipline dynamic, I realized that sometimes I really have a yen to be ‘bad’.
I was the good girl growing up for all kinds of reasons. It was my role in the family, and I realize now it created a lot of pressure, a feeling of tremendous responsibility, and I never really allowed myself much room to be ‘bad’. I wish I had sometimes. Being bad…at least naughty, has its draw. Stepping over the line can be fun in theory. So I talked to Grant as I do, about these thoughts, the feelings, the realization that I do fantasize about being that way. What he said really shocked me. He does too.
Grant told me about the fantasy he has had, sometimes, about blowing off all responsibilities. Maybe getting a motorcycle and bumming around Europe. Drinking and gambling with ne’er a care in the world. We all love bad boys and bad girls, don’t we? They are in our media, some are our cultural heroes. They draw us. But fantasy and reality are not quite the same. Grant said, “There is part of me that fantasizes about being that guy who lives for today and thinks about only me, but where would that leave you?”
To my last post Grant commented, “Would it be alright for me to treat my wife with disrespect every once in a while…just for fun and stress relief? NO WAY.” His perspective formulated my perspective on bratting, about thinking it is ok for me to act on my impulses, just because I feel like it. There are things he could do to poke at me, to push my buttons that I wouldn’t like at all. He tries to respect my boundaries, and I feel I owe him to try to respect his.
In the end, I think that is what respect is about. We do not all have the exact same needs or sensibilities. There are some men who do enjoy a certain level of bratting. It feels like teasing to them, and so that is fine. The point is that MY husband does not. He and I talked the day after the water incident. I made sure he knew I did not intend to offend him. I truly did not. He reminded me that while he does understand that, it still felt offensive, i.e. disrespectful to him. He does not like any sort of cursing. I know some HoH’s who don’t mind cursing in fun. Grant really does not like to hear me cursing for any reason. He prefers for me not to wear sweat suits. I have one DD friend who’s husband feels the same and another who likes her to dress “as comfortably as possible” at home. He doesn’t see the point in spending money on sexy lingerie. To each their own. There is no right or wrong, just what works for you.
What I think is a reality, though, is that what we do and do not do in our relationships has consequences. If we meet our partners expectations, respect their wishes and sensibilities, it enhances the relationship. If we do not, it does drag it down, whether that is readily apparent to us or not. We all have impulses, but being mature means thinking before we act on them, and making decisions that reflect two parties being in the relationship. Everything we do takes it’s toll. Our marriage is better for the fact that I take Grant’s feelings seriously, whether they always exactly match mine or not.
We’re Doing Better
He’s back. I’m back. I have to figure out a way to not ride our son’s roller coaster with such intensity. It is not good for any of us. Maybe it is part of me accepting the diagnosis he has yet to accept. I need to come to terms with what is, and realize that what will be will be, without me. Not having any control in a situation such as this makes me crazy. I’ll have to go read that Serenity Prayer again. I am not particularly religious, but there is wisdom there.
He has allowed me to give him his medications, even taken them (when asked to) himself a few times, and our son is re-emerging. He is not happy, not quite functioning well, but I can see him again. I hope he can learn from this. If he would be able to see the price he paid for the self neglect, and perhaps realize that it is in his power to do better. He cannot change his illness but how he handles it. There are choices. We’ll see.
Grant and I went out on our Friday night date this week, after 2 weeks of only to work and home, super market and home…in other words we left the boys to fend for themselves. We got a little dressed, “casual sheik” you know, and went to a nicer place of Grant’s choosing. Sometimes he likes to make the reservations with no discussion. He told me to be ready at 7:15 PM, the dress code, and no further information. I have actually come to appreciate that, just letting him take over. Good food, wine and music. He wanted to celebrate a bit, since it had been a while. It was really nice!
Unfortunately on the way home I did get a little cranky with him. I am so tired of politics and he is like a dog with a bone sometimes. I could have been nicer. At home we had some nice play time together that included a ‘warning’ spanking. It was nice to be back!
Last night was a little more interesting. It was around 9 at night. He was tired and getting something to eat, I was at the sink cleaning up, and he said something that really irked me…nothing huge, but…I took a small handful of water and… sprayed him. Maybe I should mention there is a history here. Cassie sprayed Tom. She got the idea from Lilly who got it from Katie. Numerous friend’s have rubber banded down their sink sprayers and surprised their husbands, and I have been dared to play numerous times. However, Grant just does not play like that. Our senses of humor just don’t match sometimes. My husband has a zero tolerance policy towards bratting, and does not appreciate that kind of silliness. I know that, but…well I guess I was irritated and wanted to poke at him. He was MAD! What’s a little water I ask you? “Sara! I cannot believe you just did that! I am not having it! I want you in the bedroom right now!” “Grant, oh come on…it was just a little water!” “In the bedroom! NOW!” Crap.
Ok, so into the bedroom I went with a mad and sputtering, but really tired, Dom on my heels. He grabbed his belt which was conveniently on the bedroom floor, doubled it and sat on the ottoman pulling me OTK. His problem is he is a nice guy, even when he is mad. I had just mentioned that I have my period and it is very very heavy. He left my pants up. Perhaps he did not realize that under my flannel pajama bottoms I also had on sturdy cotton underwear? He was spanking away and I apparently forgot to fuss! “You aren’t even feeling this, are you?” he demanded, still aggravated, “Because I’ll just have to go get a different implement!” “I’m feeling it…ouch!” The whole thing would have been pretty funny if he had not been seriously irritated. That did make me feel bad…no spanking required. I don’t like making him unhappy.
When he let me up I went back in the kitchen and he went and changed into warm dry pajamas and socks. He came back to retrieve his bagel from the counter, still muttering. Next he went to the fridge and I heard “Dammit!…I just put these socks on!”.
Oops, forgot to wipe up the water off the floor. I know, it is really not funny! Never, ever again…not ever. Just this once for the memories that do make me smile!
Love Our Lurkers Day III
Bonnie has done it again…it’s Love Our Lurker’s Day! If you want to read some very cool spanking blogs, go over and check it out.
In the meantime, I am sorry to have gone quiet for a bit. It seems this blogger is lurking right along with the lurkers! Life has just been such that I have just been unable to post, but I always do check in, and given my stats, I know so many of you do too. I really appreciate that! It means so much to know that someone hears me, reads me, even when I don’t ‘know’ who you are. Please give me a shout, if you can. I would love to say “hi!” 
Be back soon…I promise!
Sara
