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.
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.