Wednesday, 29 November 2017

Failing words

I wish I had words...
To convey how hard this week is for me.
And how much I wish it wasn't like this.
And how sorry I am it is and it might forever be like this.
And how much regret I harbour that this week is what it is..and how

I long to consciously turn my attention to all the joy filled things
so big and so enough that the anxiety isn't present
But how I wish I had the words to tell you, I do. I do.
I do this in a way that leaves me with no regrets.
Not a single one.

I wish I had words...
To tell you.

Tuesday, 21 November 2017

It is...

I have been feeling pretty good, all things considered.
My feet are still healing; we are still cooped up but you know, managing.

At some point, during the day, I was even contemplating future stuffs.
I was hoping to get time in for a project.
And thinking that I was healed up enough for sex.
Sex would be good.
Kind of remarkable that I feel that way and that in itself was something to
feel good about. You know?

He took BB out.
And they went and did a holiday thing together.
The thing we do every year, since moving here.
He excluded me.

I was too sad to even be mad about this and too disbelieving to really feel angry.
I was just sad.
Because have I mentioned how hard it is to be cooped up? And why does he get to be the fun one? He has been getting to do all the cool things and go and have fun in all the places while I'm at hope with new offspring.
So not fair, I tell you.

He felt bad about it. Really bad.
And that's good, because I want him to feel bad about it.
Proof that he isn't a full sociopath.

I know he didn't do it on purpose and it was a getting-caught-in-the-moment-thing but still, I felt hurt.
So I angry texted him and said my piece when they got home and said I didn't want to hear about it (notice "said" not "yell")
And laughed because it was totally up to him to get BB settled after being overstimulated, so ha.

He apologized later and made me tea.
I forgave him.
He said we would go do the thing later and that helped a bit.

Part of this is me reeling from the adjustment--I haven't had the chance to be the one that goes and does all those fun things for many weeks--and partly because I really did feel hurt.

His rule --back when--was that I wasn't allowed to be angry at him.
These days, everything is on the table and we are getting better at fighting fair and I'm getting better at not yelling.

And sex.
His rule--back when--was I wasn't allowed to say "no".
He hasn't asked.
And even without the construct of M/s, he is still my husband and I kinda feel that this falls under wifely obligation, so I wouldn't refuse him...though if he pushed and I wasn't healed, I would probably remind him what my body just did.

This morning, when I made coffee, I swept up the breadcrumbs he left on the counter, without mentioning that I hate breadcrumbs (he knows) and went on with life.
That totally warrants a pet on the head, right?

If you would like to read sex/kink/bloggers who actually write on sex/kink, please see the blogroll to the right.

Monday, 20 November 2017

On it goes

Rolling in with another Monday.
He offered to make coffee on his way out this morning and idiot that I am, said, "no that's ok thanks."
Yeah, clearly I wasn't thinking.
Guess who made coffee an hour later?

Mondays are that hard transition of having another pair of hands to having none.
For me, its not the physicalness of this stage, but the mentalness.
I like my mental space.
And its a struggle to split that two or three ways.
I'm a one-person-at-a-time-kind of person.
I like that kind of all in intensity, I need that.
And the thing about the coffee? Why its taken on such great importance?
Because its the ONE thing that is ALL mine.
The ONE thing I don't have to share.
Its just MINE.

I'm tired of not writing (or publishing?), I'm tired of money woes and fruit flies.

And I would like to write something here more than whether or not I've had my morning coffee.
But I'm learning to be ok with lowering of standards and easing up on those expectations (having none gets me through the day a lot better) so it what it is, for now.

Thanks to all who dropped by for LOL Days.
I have two questions in my inbox from that's some content coming, hopefully soon and I have drafts, because I'm ever hopeful.

Friday, 17 November 2017

LOL Days are here!

Welcome to LOL Days 12!

Say "hey" if you like and if not, I understand and appreciate your readership all the same.

Thanks for hanging with me.

Thursday, 16 November 2017

Walking by

"You would look good in that", He says to me.
We were doing the shopping thing and walked past a lingerie store.
"That's a nice thing to say to me after just having an offspring but its a lie."
Five sizes between the first and the second. Five.
He insisted it wasn't a lie and it made me smile.

It made me ponder, later...about those lies.
I don't lie well. Or easily.
And its stupid to lie to an empath.

But what about those little white lies that are threaded through most relationships? The response to,"Does this make me look fat?"
And if you don't have those...are you missing something?
Is too much truth and honesty, too much?

These things, I ponder.

Wednesday, 15 November 2017

And IN...

Gods know why.
Its coz I like this place just a little too much.
And I don't overshare anywhere else.

LOL Day is coming! This very Friday and Saturday and I'm in for that *nods* so all of you lurking types, this is your heads-up. Come say "hey" ...I guess I need to open up the comments to complete the part of the deal.

And I'm in for cookie day too! And that's because I like Jz. But really, cookies!
Last year, I *did* manage to try out a multitude of different offerings and I always learn a new trick or two in seeing the yeah, I'm in!

In other news, I haven't managed to drink my coffee while its still hot in three days, I'm stupidly tired and still can't come up with much in the way of content...maybe because I'm not getting enough time to drink a cup of coffee *shrugs*.

Its that kind of week.

Friday, 10 November 2017

Being Choked By Normalcy

Its morning.
He's washing dishes, because if it wasn't for him, the Hovel would be completely in shambles. And I feel a bit of guilt because that's my job he's doing, as I do every time he does something.
Except for laundry--the laundry is all his.
He made coffee and I'm making breakfast and we chitchat and talk about the day's plans and what we are going to do and hey, we made it to Friday and I put the coffee in the mug for him, he says thanks and he hands me a glass of water and tells me to drink it before I have coffee and I don't resist and drink the water even though I don't want to. 
Its all lovely.
And I'm being choked by normalcy. 
After these few minutes of quiet together, chaos erupts and both of us are already in different directions, taking care of different parts and its still lovely but noisy--oh goddess, how noisy my Hovel is these days! Only to get more noisy, I'm told--and its still lovely..though by this point in time, I'm starting to feel mildly jealous that he gets to walk out the door and leave this noise and chaos behind.
There's laughter and exchanges and happiness and harmony and this is good.

For me, I think D/s was an experiment. He wanted it and I wanted to see if I could do it and what it would be like and if we could take what we had in the bedroom 24/7.

Time grants a wider perspective.
There was a time, not that long ago that I was hurting so bad, I didn't want this...but that's the thing...I wanted the pain to stop. I'm not sure if I actually wanted to be without these bonds.
There is a lot to be said, for sticking it through.
But if I had the choice, I'm not sure I would be here now or if we would be here now.
Fortunately, I didn't have the choice.
I'm grateful that he has more faith than I do.

I so adore this piece from greengirl's tumblr, yes.

So we haven't had sex in forever and our days of M/s like we had are long over and who knows if we can even be kinky like we wanna be, and the rabbit hole we are currently in is KTTHA, we are still here.
That's cool.

Wednesday, 8 November 2017


Tired of cabin fever.
Tired of it taking forever to heal.
Having a moment or two of identity crisis.

So you know, the usual.

He made the comment a couple of weeks ago, that he liked punishment as part of our dynamic. 
Took me by surprise, because we haven't really talked stuffs like that and it kind of came out of context. And I thought he was happy with out that--and it was so long ago--

I don't know if we will ever have the intensity that we did once, in our M/s power exchange--maintaining that took a ton of focus and energy--different kind of energy--and I need more self to function now.  Can it be maintained 24/7? Absolutely. 
Can it be maintained while keeping the tiny humans alive? Hell no.
 For us at least, we can't. 

And I'm okay with this--even though I kind of grieve it every once in awhile--because where we are now and what we have is good. Its good.

But what does that leave us?
Maybe kinky in the bedroom, if we can ever find the hour to test out whether or not I can take any kind of kinky? 
Definitely still his, still owned...But for him there is latitude there, because once upon a time, he preferred that the emotions were more trampled down...that I controlled them more and I did at the time.
We know its better to emote. And to emote with each other and to each other and in so many ways, we are more open and honest and transparent now, than ever before...But there is a control that was once there, that isn't now. I kind of miss that.

Does it mean I go and be me and do all the me things and that's fine, and being without the nitty-gritty of protocols and rituals and not saying no to him and giving him access whenever? 
 For someone whose kink is control, that seems like it wouldn't be enough.
But its where we are hovering now. 


I go back and forth, wondering if I should still blog here or go somewhere else to write. I go back and forth wondering if I should tak about the stuff I do under this handle. Then I get a message from a Dom asking about PPD symptoms...and then I realize, the kink community is my community and I can serve here. So I overshare/talk/tweet about birth trauma under this handle and carry on.
 The content is lacking but I'm still here.

If you need someone to share that holiday drink with, I'm fond of the gingerbread...justsayin'

Saturday, 4 November 2017

Oh If I could...

I would hug my brain.
Giving it lots of coffee.
 The difference between last time and this time, is mind-boggling.
I can think.
I'm sleep-deprived and exhausted and I want to curl up with my Kobo, eat junk food, watch Netflix, be on a beach somewhere, my days are insanity and very, very, very, very long, my foot/toes are still not healed, the cabin fever is seriously getting to all of us in the Hovel, but I can think.

Which makes me rather useful.
He likes me useful.
I would like to get to the being used part of the equation...but that whole healing thing is taking its time. *sighs* But I can think.

Happy weekend, friends. 

Friday, 3 November 2017

You Say Doormat Like its a Bad Thing..

Couple weeks back, a reader wrote to say, they wouldn't be reading here anymore.

I didn't respond because I didn't think it was worth responding to and gods damn, I'm too sleep-deprived and too postpartumy to really care all that much. I thought it was kinda cute. You can consider this a reply.

They took issue with this post and this line:

"Because to tell me to leave or walk away, is ignorant and disrespectful of the confines of my relationship"

I still stand by that.

There is always an outpouring of support when we get questions like, "How can I make my whatever more Dom-like?" or "How can I be more submissive?"
Support for creating D/s relationships but not for maintaining them.
Instead the advice given when its not so glossy  is to leave.
Kind of  an extreme line for the community to take, don't you think?

Also, in that post?
That's me keeping on.

But its certainly not his ideal of surrender. It was me coping.
I don't know how not to do things.
I don't know how not to be his doormat.

No matter if he falters, because human, I keep on doing my thing because commitments are not conditional, not in my world. And my convictions just might be as strong as superman.

For the submissive defintion of doormat, see here.
( be correct, let's re frame that to be: for a submissive definition of doormat that rings true to me, see here). be correct again: My convictions ARE as strong as superman.

At least.