Posted in Emotions, Grace, Pretty Girl, Rant, Uncategorized, White Knight

And you are mine

I happened into the restaurant this morning, a sick Buddy and active Little Man in the car, after dropping a post-Bio Mom Pretty Girl off at school.  Meaning only to stop for a quick yogurt breakfast for the boys, I immediately parked the running car and quickly occupied the boys downstairs to take tables on the floor when I walked into the rush.  Despite a projected 5 hours the kids would need to be occupied downstairs, I / we stayed through and worked lunch with you and closed along side you.  Again successfully occupying the kids downstairs, we had our much anticipated sit down with our landlords and exhausted our questions for them.  I was hoping to walk away with a definite ‘yey’ or ‘ney’ to our much discussed business direction.  We just wanted to ‘know.’  You heard a definite.  I?  Not so much though I ruled nothing out.


You, having already arranged for your mom to watch the kids to give us time to talk, had made a way for date night.  Or not depending on if we were just going to come home and cry?  You left our evening very open ended.  For all I knew, we would be spending the night in rather than going out.


After our meeting, I rushed the kids home as you closed the restaurant.  With Buddy asleep and the other two begging for a bath, I filled ours first and let them at it.  Figuring after dinner out and with you opening in the morning, we wouldn’t be able to handle bath and lovin after 8 ish, a reasonable back home time given past dining experience (plus, grammie sitting usually means baths and jammies for everyone so probably no hot water for our bath later).  Perfect!  Kids occupied, wife naked (ish), said wife ready for action after a few days off, an early hot bath, and romantic date plans?  Sounds like I’m getting some lovin’ tonight!


But . . . your mom’s home too.  Wow!  I guess it is 5 o clock, but I thought we’d have a bit more down time before we went out.  Of well, she won’t mind.  She’ll think it’s cute.  A romantic bath for two!


We make it upstairs.  We talk.  We clarify.  We dream.  We relax.  Or so I thought, but again with the facebooking!  Then you mention our favorite, Ko Ho and a pork chop and off we went.  Perfect!  I had already thought of this option too and had Plan B lined up.  I had chosen a top that would be a little sexy to greet you in and easily transformable into date night attire with some leggings.


But wait!  This was to be a business / dreaming dinner?  Well, I guess that was his original intention in arranging childcare for tonight.  Bringing the sketchbook?  Oh, he must be serious!  Ok.  I can do this.  Switching gears to . . . business.  Pros and cons.  This landlord or that landlord.  Ok.  I’m on board.


Hit a bump there.  Ideas are flowing faster than I can follow.  Once I understand one and have time to jump on board, you’re off on another.  Not waiting to use the book I guess.  Whoa, Nelly!


Alright.  At dinner, back on the same page.  You were riding the ‘monsters’ or something so you said.  Acknowledging I wasn’t keeping up with the thought train.  But wait!  We’re all for the same thing here.  Happier, healthier us.  More time with each other and the kids.  Less strife.  Less anxieties.  Yes!  That’s what we all want!  Let’s do this!  What’s the best option for us?  Feeling good.  We’re cuddling.  We’re doing good.


In the car, ok I think.  Nothing sticks out.  Foggy so no romantic back road, but ok.


At home, ok I think.  Kids with grammie.  We head to our room.  We relax and talk and such a little I think?  You’re down to your usual bedroom attire of boxers and wife beater and facebooking on top of the covers as we continue to talk and . . . up comes our roommate.


Little Man wants to lay with mommy.  Mommy washes face and hands and teeth (at daddy’s prompting) and quickly get’s him comfortable in the dark.   While I am trying to get said son asleep, husband proceeds to get comfortable under the covers removing wife beater and cuddling pillows into leveraged positions.  Business ideas still flowing even as Joshua some how manages to quickly fall asleep.  But as I slip out from under our sleeping son, I fear it is already too late.  He’s already out.  Not just the son, no the father too.


But wait!  There’s a chance he is just relaxing while I was getting the dude to sleep and he’s just waiting for me to turn on the romantic mood we spoiled with business talk all night when all I wanted was to just spend time with you! I know we’ve got the decision of a lifetime in front of us, but we’re not going to make up our minds tonight, are we?  I could always wake you with a BJ, right?  Quick!  Some romantic lighting and some mood music maybe?  What’s the least intrusive to see if he’s responsive?  Low lighting?  We’ll go with the low lighting since I can’t remember where a single electronic music making devise is!  And . . .


Nope.  Not into it at all.  Blinded him instead, so now I’m a jerk. <sigh>.


I’m lost.  Where did I go wrong here?  What changed in the last 25 minutes since we walked in from the truck?  ‘Cause I still felt like I was coming home from a date when we got out of the truck?  Happy endings all ‘round, right?  Oh!  Was it before that?  I guess I bitched at I guess I bitched at you all night?  I had attitude?  I’m PMSing so that has to be it, right?  I’m the problem?  I didn’t just do everything but jump your bones and lay out a red carpet (ha) to my vagina this evening?  I was attributing my frustrations of the evening to sheer sexual frustrations of which I was hoping to happily exhaust on you.  But, no.  I get a sarcastic ‘how dare Marshall rest’ from you as if I have ever thought you didn’t deserve to rest when you’re tired.  I love to participate 100% in our alone times, but I understand the difficulty of shutting off the brain sometimes. I know we can’t just magically hop to at the drop of a hat when your partner is ready for some couple time, but . . .COME ON!


I’m getting whiplash again, and it not me spinning my head with 180’s.  I swear, dude!  I can’t keep up and I feel like you’re getting frustrated with my slowness.  Like there’s something wrong with me that I can’t keep up with your train of thoughts, spoken and unspoken, and somehow read your intentions and ignore your anxieties and doubts all while trusting your judgments absolutely but also being ready at a moment’s notice to entertain any option for our future. GAAH!


It’s like an army standing at a constant state of readiness.  Fatigue will set in.  Attention will waiver under the strain maintaining peak awareness.  Ears silently straining for the cue to move.  I’m getting tired of swimming yet I haven’t moved at all.  What if I waste all of my energy treading water and I have none left to move forward?


I’m like a clenched muscle, after putting my shoulder to the plow, readying itself to push and some how maintaining a life while living in that moment of sheer potential energy – the moment before the push that has the potential for anything / everything at once until a decision is made to direct that energy potential into action.  A moment in time where all things are possible, all options are on the table.




Love on me and I on you

Believe in me and listen

Rest and hear my heart.

Look at me, not past me.

Talk with me, not about us.

Spend time in my eyes not in your head.

Feel my arms not anxiety’s claws.

Lay your head upon my chest and breath deep

For I am yours, and you are mine.


Me (not ME but me)


Posted in Grace, Pretty Girl, Stepmother Moments

The First Spanking

Today I gave my first spanking as a mother. For an event I have spent months agonizing over, it was remarkably painless event – as far as spankings go.

Pretty Girl is a tempter of fate, a challenger of authority and pusher of all limits. The Knight and I have come to the conclusion that she rather regularly ASKS for spanking in her own way – pushing the limits just to see how far we will allow her to go. Up until today, I have let my insecurities about punishment prevent real consequences. There are definitely spanking-punishable offenses, and this was one. I am just amazed that I don’t have any guilt! Maybe its because I wasn’t angry and acting out of that place of anger. I was completely biblical about it. It was deserved and I was calm. Thank God for one big hurdle of motherhood conquered!

Posted in Buddy, Kids, Pretty Girl

Pretty Girl and Buddy

Our Munchkins. . .

A lover of dress up and definitely daddy’s Pretty Girl, she’ll wrap you around her finger within minutes. Bellow the cute pixie face and ‘I love you’ is the heart of an imp and a mischief-maker. She is impulsive and expressive. She’ll ask with one breath and demand with another. She’ll cuddle for hours then test every limit you’ve set once she gets up. Very much a people person, she needs to be heard, needs to be seen and needs to be involved in everything anyone else is doing. She has the capability to bother her brother to distraction. But still . . . she’s our Pretty Girl.

As a big strapping lad, Buddy has been taught not to strike out as would be his instinct when his sister does her best to get under his skin. He’s a big softy – the quiet leader who everyone wants to be around. Content to play with himself, his social sister interrupts his quiet time. Not needing the social interaction she does to be entertained, he is often baffled at her need to be heard and seen and do everything he’s doing. He loves puzzles and all things that need to be put together. Transformers, legos, you name it – he loves it. He may need help to put something together the first time, but he’s also the first to let you know when you’re not doing it like the map shows.