Slappy New Year

Have never been a person that makes New Year's resolutions.  Before ttwd, I would have been embarrassed at reneging on my pledge by the end of January.  After ttwd I knew that if I really wanted to change something about myself, all I had to do was ask for Sam's help.  He would be there for me whether it was May, September, or December.  And even if I decided to throw my goal out the window, Sam would be around to gently or not so gently remind me of our agreement.

The months leading up to January, 2019, had been both busy and full of angst.  We had the flood disaster the night before we left for London and France, and the mess and repairs took a full 4 months.  No ceilings and no floors in over half the house.  But the trip overseas was probably the best ever vacation for the two of us.  I was feeling healthy, and we did and saw everything we had missed for 2 years running.  Very special memories.

Artist rendition of glider landing at Pegasus Bridge

When we returned, we dealt with the water damage in the house and prepared for Sam's big surgery.  I wrote about that recently.  There was so much for us to discuss, so much more that just the diagnosis and the surgery.  The surgery carried with it some heavy emotional repercussions, and more than once, both of us cried and clung to each other.  Again, I will never know how to properly thank the blog friends who opened up to us about their journey with this diagnosis and surgery.  What amazing people.

The holidays were different this year.  Sam insisted that we were cutting back and taking a minimalist approach.  Not allowing me to stress myself out. 

While ttwd never disappeared, it never got the attention we usually pay to keeping it strong and positive.  There just wasn't time with all that happened.  Once we were past all the demands, Sam and I breathed a big sigh and felt like we finally could spend time just on each other.  When we began to talk about where we were a bit stale.  Not on our game, as they say.  We talked about it often.  We touched and smiled and laughed.

Finally Sam sat on the bed and pulled me across his knee.  He would spank for a while, but it was not about something I did or did not do.  It was not a "just because I love you" spanking either.  It wasn't funny and we were not laughing.  It was meant to reconnect and renew us as we faced the new year.

Sam would pause, and we would talk - about who we are now - how we've both changed.  How we are the same.  What should we remember about our respective roles?


It was a wonderful way to start the year.  The bond felt strong again.  In fact, I hope we do this every January.


                     So Slappy New Year, friends and readers.  
       Hope 2019 gives you all the love and spankings you deserve.

Half and Half

On Saturdays we almost always finish up our around-the-house tasks by 3:00 or 4:00 pm, and we drive just a short way to our favorite Saturday afternoon place for a beer.  Some weeks, though, we stop at the hardware store on the way.  The list for True Value is never as long as the one for groceries, but it seems you never remember everything you need for a home repair or project.  Those never-ending "honey-do" lists.


Most times I wander around this little hardware store looking at stuff and don't have a clue what it is or what it is used for.  This particular Saturday I stuck close to Sam, and he told me later that in the space of 2 minutes, I had told him what to do several times.  Like I was some big hardware expert.  Which I am not!
  

My usual description of a home repair goes something like this:

"Hon, you know that gizmo by the stove light?  Well, it started blinking so I sort of smacked it, and this little piece of metal fell out."

Sam just rolls his eyes and asks me to show him what I am talking about.  

Anyway I thought about what he said.  Me telling him what to do and realized he was right.  I was being bossy.  I apologized and decided I needed to straighten up post haste.  And I did.

When we got to our "Cheers" pub, I waited for him to open the door.  I waited for him to order for us, even though the waitress and I are good friends.  As she showed me the latest picture of her toddler, I reached across the table and absentmindedly stroked Sam's hand.  Jill smiled at our hands and then at Sam and I.

"You know, you guys are an inspiration.  I sure hope my husband and I are still so in love when we get to be your age."


I could have done without the reference to my "age," but we both thanked her.  We had a wonderful 2 hours, as usual.  Some excellent IPA and pub grub.  Lots to talk about as we anticipated an upcoming trip.  I love, love, love our Saturdays.


When we returned home later, Sam pushed me up against the wall for some long slow kisses.  Then he quietly led me to the bedroom and proceeded to unzip and remove my jeans and panties.  As he gently positioned me over his knee, he explained that there was a spanking imminent but that it was to be a "Half and half."

I laughed and asked him, "What the hell is that?"


He explained, "Well, one of your pretty cheeks is going to be reminded that I don't need you to tell me what to do and how to do it, especially at the hardware store.  The other cheek is going to be reminded how much I love you.  Half and half."


The man never ceases to amaze me!  And he was true to his word.  I couldn't stop laughing, even as he lit into my left cheek like there was no tomorrow.  After 10 or 12 good whacks, he turned his attention to my right cheek with some love taps and erotic rubbing.  Just as I became complacent, he returned to the left cheek with vigor.  It hurt but my tears were from laughing and nothing else.  After several rounds, he finally finished up with a kiss to both cheeks.

I was thinking how lucky we were and glowing with pleasure - one side a little brighter than the other.  As I rubbed a bit on the left a thought popped into my head about how this ttwd thing really works for us.  Part of the time there is guidance and even discipline.  Part of the time there is pampering and petting.  But all the time, there is the assurance and overwhelming knowledge that I love Sam and he loves me. 

Been Gone Too Long

Just a Little Note - The last five months of life have brought some really big challenges to Sam and I.  There have been long periods when I haven't blogged or even been reading in blogland.  I missed you all very much.  I even forgot that warm feeling that comes from communication with other women who accept me as I am. There is something special about keeping in touch with you all that leaves a big hole in my heart when I cannot be here.  Feels so good to be back.


At our house, Sam usually believes that my bossiness is best dealt with over the bed.  He and Mr. Paddle seem to know when enough is enough.  We all meet in the bedroom and I usually don't have any pants on.  Although I am never in favor of this sort of spanking at the time, I must admit that it usually reins in my natural tendency to "manage" everything, including Sam.

  

Lately, though, there have been extenuating circumstances here at Sam and Ella's house.  Sam underwent surgery several months ago, and it has taken time for him to heal and find his old energy level.  There was a considerable amount of pain to deal with as well.  Any surgery for our dear ones can give us cause to be nervous, but this one was really scary.  I was happy and matter-of-fact and positive because Sam needed me to be that way.  But deep inside I didn't feel so brave.  It was cancer, and that word is just plain frightening.

All went very well the surgeon said, but I know we will both be on pins and needles for many years when it comes time for the scheduled check-ups that search for any signs that the cancer may have spread.  I have read blogs and emails from some dear friends on this subject, and now I am living it, too.

I pray.

So back to the topic of bossiness.  It is through my visits to all of you that I know that most of us have at one time or, even more likely, have regularly grappled with the fact that we can be too bossy.  Just because we are worried or concerned about something or someone, doesn't make it OK.  It is still damn irritating to the men we live with.  And ttwd has been a good way for Sam to deal with my bad habit of stepping in to "run the show."  I admit that teachers can be worse at this than others.  If you have ever managed a classroom, you will know what I mean. 



And it is just natural for me to be bossy when someone isn't feeling well.  Recently I talked on the phone with a fellow blogger and friend who had been feeling poorly for quite a while now.  Her symptoms really did alarm me.  So what did I do?  I started bossing her around.  


"Good golly!  You simply must get in to see the doctor.  Be sure you start to record when these episodes begin.  The doc will want to know.  How long do they last?  Write down what you ate.  Are you taking anything?  You mustn't drive when you feel like that.  It could be dangerous."

Now this lovely friend did not get mad at me.  She knew I cared about her a lot.  She thanked me for the card I sent to her.  She knew she really should get in to see a doctor.  She certainly didn't want to spank me!  But husbands are made of different stuff.  Know what I mean?


So my concern for Sam after he came home from the hospital caused me to try and make him most comfortable and follow all the doctor's orders to the letter.  When he should take his prescriptions, when he should rest, what he should eat, how long he should walk and probably 5 other things as well. 


There were 2 things that Sam did when he'd had enough.  I am sure you can guess one of them.  Once he was well enough to wield a paddle, he put me over the bed for a long talk, and I came to my senses quickly.  He did appreciate my taking good care of him but not the hovering.  We "discussed" this more than once during his recuperation.

But the second thing Sam did was simply something he said to me.  It about knocked me over.  One morning as we were both getting dressed, I TOLD Sam that he ought to be doing something.  Don't even remember now what it was,

But he turned to me and, with a voice dripping with sarcasm, said 

                                     "Thank you, Mother."

I stopped dead in my tracks.  He looked at me.  I looked at him.  I wanted to argue with him, to deny that I was acting like a mother, but I knew he was right.

Have you ever thought to yourself that a spanking could be better that hearing just 3 little words?  At that moment, I would have paid a lot for the spanking.

Did I never utter another dictate?  No, of course not.  Has Sam never spanked me again for being bossy?  Not bloody likely.  But we both turned a corner that day.  And sitting on Sam's lap one night we once again talked about how ttwd and our efforts to live our roles had made this wrench thrown in our lives a little bit easier and a lot more positive.  We grew and learned from it, too.  I think it's been said a hundred times in the blogs I read and by the friends I've made, but it is AMAZING sometimes to see the power and transformation that this thing we do brings to a couple that embrace it.