Lasting happiness...

It takes some time to develop a very real sense of what makes us happy.  You know... real, lasting happiness.  The kind that reaches deep within one's soul and roots itself so snuggly within that the only resounding noise is, well--giggles and the little speckly sound (yes, I've heard it, don't argue with me) that glitter makes as it falls to the ground.  Yes! Oh... that makes me happy!

Okay, apparently... it's not been long enough for me.

Yep... there's another pity party thrown in there, but don't feel too badly for me because I'm about to make you feel a number of very particular ways:

a) ashamed--as in, I cannot be reading this
b) gross--she said that OUT LOUD!
c) oh, now this is my type of person

Anything other than those three is just craziness and will make absolutely no sense...afterall, there are only a small few of us that believe in the power of glitter throwing unicorns, right--at least to me, but who's really counting?!

As badly as things get for whatever reason... marriage, life, finances, turmoil, emotions, etc... there are a few things that never change-- (she shakes her head gloomily knowing what she's about to say must be the words of her inner wand-carrying, winged-glitter throwing-self) --love and its true sexual intimacy!

I can't help but thank God every single day that my one and only, my spouse and life partner is also the only man I've ever really been with.  Some see it as a disadvantage but I prefer to see it as... well, quite frankly, seeing that the oneness is on both our parts (I too was the only woman he'd ever been with), we've had over eleven years of marriage to learn what happy is!!  And I won't lie to any of you... it's being free to be yourself, your honest self--despite how it sounds, despite how others think it may sound, and accepting yourself as you.  You are powerful, wonderful, and more beautiful than any glitter-covered corndog I've ever seen.

In our own personal journey we've learned that no matter what is going on between us, no matter what is going on outside of us, despite any struggle one, the other, or even both of us is facing, there is a level of intimacy that can only be achieved when we truly love and care for the other person (selflessness).  It goes deeper than glitter, deeper than unicorns, and deeper than even my obsession with corndogs.  It's honesty.  It's completely giving.  It's sitting down and sharing your fears, your concerns, and your deepest emotions with your forever partner.

For me, this is not always easy.  Each of you knows how difficult I find it to be "just me".  I'm an emotional woman who cries when every fairy gets its wings... and well, around here that happens too often.  However, I choose to look at it another way... God made me in His own image.  There is purpose in my being... power in my expression...

...and in the end, doesn't honest and great communication just lead to really great sex.  See... told you that you would think, "did she really say that?"  Yes.  Yes, I did.  And what's wrong with really great sex?  Heck. Nothing.  It's like chocolate dipped corndogs... the best of both worlds!

So, to touch back on my post from a few days ago, my insightful moment came after having a rather lengthy talk with my special other.  While many options ran through my mind, the most favorable choice was to simply sit and share my troubles with the man whom I'm committed my life.  Craziness, right?  Who talks to their spouse these days?

This was my problem.  For so long I'd held in how I felt, what I feared, and the things that troubled me that I'd separated myself from my spouse.  I could no longer be the helpmeet he needed, and I no longer expected he could help me.  I created my very own alone by abandoning God's purpose for marriage.

And what is this purpose?  I cannot state it any more clearly than has already been stated, " Yes, marriage is God's arrangement for lifetime companionship and the arena for our sexual expression, but like with all that He has created, God uses marriage to direct us towards Himself. "

So... corndogs, unicorn, and glitter aside, I must remember that I am no longer *just me. I have been given this special person with whom I'm to share my life.  It is not just my spouse... it is also my God.  The ultimate goal is to bring me closer to Him.

I'm nuts

Well... I don't have much to say today.

Just wanted you to know I am thinking of you.

<3,

Where did you go?

I'm still here folks.  When I created this blog I wanted it to become an extension of me, a clear description of my life as it's occuring along with whatever insightful moment, or lack of, that I experience as a result.

A blog is a slow work... learning what to share, to what extent our personal lives will be posted for public view.  However, from the get go I've said I would be honest.  There is something to be learned from what happens in the lives of those we know and care for.

I once said all I needed was a good hug, ya know, with my feet dangling at his knees... but this isn't a funk.

I'm falling apart, literally.  I have been for months now.  Since our move to a new state, lonliness has overtaken me and my spirit.  I busy myself to the point of exhaustion (homeschool, house chores, meals, two and three-a-days)... after all, busy hands are happy hands, right?  Yes, until that very moment that all is still and you are alone--left alone to face yourself, to hear your thoughts.  At that very moment every ounce of negative selftalk you've avoided comes rushing in.  Before I know it, I find myself trembling with fear, crying, and the very worst, alone.

In the best of his own way, C has told me to make friends.  He doesn't want to be the only "thing" I look forward to at the end of the day.  He described in loose detail why he "doesn't miss me" when he's gone and that was followed with how my missing him is "excessive." 

My marriage hasn't been the blessing it should be.  Don't get the idea that I'm married to an ogre... that's definitely not the case.  He sacrifices much to see that our financial needs are met each and everyday.  Perhaps in his own way he is unhappy, too.  There is something deep going on within my family.

I've always believed that my purpose in life is to raise my children to be great, God-fearing people who love the Lord and learn to love others as passionately as the Lord calls us to.  I'm not a "Let's go party tonight-type of gal" and to move toward that is unnatural.  I've always imagined myself (since leaving my job teaching public school) as the happy homemaker.  I gladly raise my children, teach my children, care for my home, care for my husband, and see to the needs of those here.  Our lives should be a living testament...

...right?

then why, with all my trying, with all my prayers, with all my tears,

why am I still failing?

Why am I sitting here alone?

I have to believe that I am someone worth dying for... because, someone has already died for me.  That's my value.

I've spent much time in prayer trying to decide how our lives should improve and what road should be left untraveled and what road must eventually be ventured down.

I don't know what to do.  Not knowing is not an answer I'm happy living with.  I trust that I've turned it over to the Lord, but I simply don't know what to do.  How do I continue?  I want to please everyone, I want to be the source of the smiles on my families faces... however, I feel like it's coming at a price for which I cannot afford.

I'm still waiting for my grand insightful moment with this one.  The light at the end of the blog post.


I hope you all have an amazing weekend, and I will do my utmost best to not leave you hanging as my life interwines with each of you.

I love you!

Hi, my name is Bonkers...

and yes, I understand that ME time is just crazy talk

Counting them one by one...

When upon life’s billows you are tempest-tossed,
When you are discouraged, thinking all is lost,
Count your many blessings, name them one by one,
And it will surprise you what the Lord hath done.

With my feet dangling at his knees...

I would like to think that I'm not the only crazy person in this world.  I know, I'm taking a leap here.  I would also like to think that I'm not the only woman that gets moody for reasons even I can't put my finger on.  I start the day off great... all grins and a joyful heart as I do my chores, prepare breakfast, and go about our regular daily tasks.  Then quite suddenly (I do mean, quite suddenly) I find myself in some strange place where what I say and think don't really match up.  I'm in a [drum roll, please] MOOD, around here we call it, "THE MOOD".  The very word makes Big C cringe.  I can guarantee, nothing bewilders this stout beast of a man more than when I utter those words to him.  I'll even bet that if I said that single word over the phone, there would inevitably be some major catastrophe at work that required his presence until such a time as THE MOOD was better.

It's odd crazy.

So... here's a "sample" scenario of said MOOD:

Big C comes home, and yep, he usually gets to work on work on our beautiful red sofa... quite a crazy concept to come home from work to keep on working... especially on a red sofa.  Alas, that is my life.  Or, let's say he doesn't get to work and he does... say, anything else (at times, I do wonder what it would be like if he were a recliner 'mote-clicker kinda man). 

Eventually, he notices I'm all clammed up, not saying much, not smiling, and certainly not the happy go-lucky lady he left at home that morning.  Quite innocently he asks, "Is everything okay?  Did I do something to make you angry?"

My very simple and straight to the point answer is, "No."  Afterall, I am completely aware that I don't understand why I'm in a funk, so there's really no point in trying to explain it to him.  I'll even bet a happy meal that most men wouldn't understand why I don't understand how I'm feeling and if I don't understand how I feel, why am I feeling moody?  See the predicament... I just don't understand.

That's the situation as it occurs.  However, seeing that we've been together for almost half of our lives, Big C has learned to adapt to THE MOOD.  It's taken great pains on his part as the trial and error wasn't always easy.  So how does he deal with it?  Well, he scoops me up in his arms for a long hug (it's always best when my feet are dangling at his knees) and when he sets me back down he takes my hand and begins dancing with me.  At this point the children come running after hearing all my giggles and insist that this private dance become a family dance.  Quite simply, it's the cureall for THE MOOD. 

So, my personal lesson for myself, since the situation described occured this very day not six hours ago... if I'm in THE MOOD and I find myself wondering why me, why again, why do I feel this way?  I'm going to stop what I'm doing, find Big C and my littles, get a big huge hug, and dance a little.

I can't explain the crazy away.  I certainly can't figure out THE MOOD... but I can combat the crazy with giggles and love.  And, it's even better when my feet are dangling at his knees.

Cinderella needs a rewrite

I just keep thinking, why on earth must I suffer for the blatant lies that were drilled into my way of thinking as a child?  I shouldn't have to suffer.  That's - just - it.  It's not my fault... not by a long shot!  Just wait though... you will soon understand who is to blame. 

As young girls we are flooded with glorious images of princesses in fancy ball gowns.  Their hair is always perfect, immaculate, they sing and flowers bloom, they pee on a weed in the middle of the woods and it suddenly becomes a sunflower.  They dance in the woods with owls and deer and countless other wild creatures (could you see me doing that? No. Someone would inevitably create that state institution I like to refer to just to lock my deer dancing butt up---who-who... yes, Miss Wife, you!).  You know the routine.

The best part of the whole unrealistic scene is the prince.  Oh yes, the prince.  He says very little, right?  And what he does say is like pure gold flowing from a public water fountain.  We all want some of that.  The prince and princess dance away into the sunset, into the dimming ballroom, or kissing from the back of a horse drawn carriage with a sign reading, "Just happily married." 

But you know what gets me most?  The whole, "and they lived happily ever" without so much as an effort or a quarrel or a battle or even hair pulling.  (okay, okay, we don't pull hair, but I'm all for new things).  Why do the fairy tales leave out the juicy details.  Blah, blah happy... blah, blah ever... blah, blah after.  Why does the story end there?  I think children, especially us baby girls (I'm referring to my child self here), would do well to know there's more to love and marriage than just happily ever after bliss.  A marriage with all bliss and no struggle makes for one unrealistic "made for TV" special.

So, excuse the happiness out of me when I get all angry and feel like I have been jipped.  This is not what I was led to believe that "happily ever after" would be.  I would go so far as to say, I sometimes feel like I'm in grade school and someone took all of my glitter and poured it out onto the floor.

Why can't they just make sequels to all these amazing fairy tales?  With a little more insight, I certainly wouldn't have spent countless years feeling like a failure... chasing the illustrated versions of happily ever after that never really exist like they do in animation.  Wondering what I was doing wrong and why I couldn't make my life what the fairy tales made it out to be.

Yeah, I obviously had some growing up to do.  So... what about my baby girl, my baby boy?  Well, perhaps I can help some by teaching them that all good things are made good as a result of hard work, patience, diligence, dedication, trust and empathy. 

Big C and I made a promise a few years ago that the word "end" and the word "divorce" did not exist for us.  We never considered it an option... but in the heat of a battle, those words have serious consequences and can go far to damage trust.  So, we decided to agree that sometimes, when you love someone like crazy and you admittedly understand that you are married to your polar opposite, you just have to accept that crazy will sometimes ensue and you just have to love each other anyway. 

The best part of my happily ever after... being able to fight like there's no tomorrow and knowing that tomorrow we will still love one another.  And guess what Cinderella, you didn't teach me that one!

My corndog affair,

It's after midnight at this moment.  Big C has left for his weekly OCS drills in the state capital of Arkansas.  The kidlets are tucked away in their beds and konked out from the day's adventures (oh yes, we had our new pool dug out and installed and we even saw...dum, dum, drum roll please, Captain America).  Yet, here I sit.  I've been heavy hearted this week.  Very heavy hearted.  I tend to think I'm a loon deserving of admittance to the state mental institution (please tell me Texas has no such thing) when I'm feeling gloom.

I'm quite frankly a party all in myself.  I throw some of the wildest pity parties you'll ever see!  Lord bless me, I don't usually remember them after the troubles are gone.

Generally, my gloom is brought on by troubles with the Big C.  Yes, troubles.  See... I told you it "ain't always pretty."  That's life.  That's marriage.  If it were easy, I'm sure the divorce rate wouldn't be where it is now.

Why the trouble, you ask.  I'm not sure I can say with definition.  It's a feeling of detachment.  He's overwhelmed at work, overwhelmed with his Officer Training and yet, at the end of the day, I expect him to leave all those worries behind and enter the world of me and the kidlets where everything is sunshine and daisies and at times, rainbows and yes.... yes, UNICORNS!  Oh my goodness, I left out the skipping and holding hands... I mustn't leave out pertient details.  So, I said it!

When he comes home with an overwhelming desire to do this, do that (generally, in front of the computer handling a thousand emails and at least a dozen phone calls), I start to feel... well... honestly, it's somewhere between jealous and left out and what-about-me.  Childish... yeah.  Probably so... actually is, so.  However, in the moment, in this moment even... it feels like there are 1 bajillion katrillion miles between us and I could walk by him, completely naked, maybe even covered in chocolate, eating a corndog and talking to my unicorns and he wouldn't even notice... nevermind adding: bouncing through the field of daisies that exist only in my mind.  He might even nod and say, "Yes, I like unicorns and chocolate, too."  Only realizing a week later that he'd said anything about unicorns... and insisting that there is NO WAY I was naked OR wearing just my chocolate. 

LIGHTBULB!  So, maybe the next time he brings his work home with him, and I'm feeling lonely and left out, I should tell him as gently and tenderly as I can.  Yes, he's that kind of man.  He's a good man who's willing to fix any problem... if he KNOWS what the problem is (yeah, I kind of have to open up, spill the glitter, share the unicorns, and tell him what's going on with me). 

Why?  I know him.  He's hot-toed to fix anything within his power (that's usually a man thing anyway).  And, if that doesn't work, I'll put the kidlets to bed.  Afterwards, I'll bake myself a corndog, melt myself some chocolate, lather up and walk by him five or six times hacking and coughing while attempting to eat my corndog... at least until he does notice.  Yeah, that's just me.  That's just one of the things that makes us so interesting...

Hello mistress... thank you for taking the time to help out with the wife.

Again, please tell me that Texas has no such thing (ya know... state mental institutions for unicorn lovin', glitter throwin', corndog eatin' mistresses)!

Concessions Stand

Never one to say, "Let your man rule your every decision..." I also want to say, God brought you together for a reason... there is a purpose.

For 11 years I have been married to my high school sweetheart.  We've always said to one another, "We are polar opposites on some issues."  And, this is the truth.  There are many issues where we simply do not see eye to eye.  Trust me, learning that it's okay to disagree and have a difference of opinions has been a long, drawn out battle for us.

My dear, sweet big C has always been very cautious with how he spends his hard earned money.  Who can blame him with our current economic crisis?  However, he has the distinct misfortune of being married to a "fly by the seat of her pants" type of gal who likes to "spend" money like she's going to die, otherwise.  Yeah, I'm setting myself up here... heck, I'm telling on myself.

It tends to be a tragic course... trendy housewife longs to be up on the current trends and insists on having the cutest kids on the block... or in the state, as is my case.  I don't spend badly or secretively, mind you.  Just given the opportunity, I'd rather spend it on clothing, accessories, and house decor.  Just saying.

When we sat down to plan our "moved to a new state budget," I was more than eager to see what we could save.  We had already agreed that the large sum we earned in equity and improvements on our prior home would remain in our account... it would be our set minimum and we would not allow ourselves to go below that value.  We also previously agreed to save another 60K for the down payment on our next and final home.  The home we'd move our kids out of... the home we would likely retire in. 

Man was I impressed to see that hefty number after we completed our budget... only to find out that we failed to multiply our grocery budget by four.  We saw that hefty number decline to a... well, at least we have some leftover money in case of emergencies.  We decided then, it was time to tighten our purse straps.  We started trying to find cuts wherever we could make them.  At our current rate we wouldn't hit goal in the next two years.  There was just no way.  And, we aren't living it up, mind you... we are just spending till we can't spend no more.

So... it is at this point... month two of our "moved to a new state" budget that I realize... Mama can't be the trendsetter all the time.  Mama has to stick to a budget... especially considering mama doesn't have to work and isn't responsible for making the money needed to suffice our extravagant (at least in our minds) lifestyle.  Afterall, the last thing I want to see is my overstressed boss of a husband worried about our savings dividends.

Now, I choose to look at it a new way.  My challenge, my personal dare is to save this sweet and amazing man as much money as I can, while also fulfilling my desires, his desires, their desires, and our needs.  So... I may not be the trendiest woman at all times... my kids may not have the newest designs at all times... but when and where it matters most, in our home... concessions stand. 

We are a budget bound family and if I can't afford it this month... maybe I can make some cuts somewhere throughout the month and maybe, just maybe, I can afford it next month. 

My claims to superdom, or should that be superDUMB?

This was part of my horoscope for July 27, 2001. Perhaps tonight would have ended on a better note had I taken the time to read it.  However, that leaves me wondering would I have really adopted this line of thinking in my given situation?  Who knows?

You can listen more carefully and you can reach within yourself for your deepest powers of discrimination. Then, at least, you will be part of the solution, not the problem.

~Cainer Horoscopes

Ever have one of those situations where you give and give and give of yourself only to find that your giving amounted to little more than a mole hill?  Heck, to find that it amounted to virtually nothing more than a few specks of sand on the already sandy desert floor.

That's my situation. 

Since our move from Arkansas to Texas, I have felt like the definition of SuperWife.  I practically unpacked every box in our new home on my own.  This was a tedious job of lifting, sorting, and unpacking the very large and quite heavy boxes that had been packed by huge men from our Mayflower crew.  And while Big C returned to work, I made merry days with the kidlets unpacking boxes and trying to establish services that should have been established in the weeks prior to our move.  I smiled and made merry through the incessant calls to do this, do that, make sure this is done followed by that being done... I did them all with a big smile on my face.  I was truly eager to do and to help and it showed.  I was finally in Texas, and big C would be home every evening rather than only on the weekends. I was ready to make our new house a home, and I was especially ready to settle into a routine.

Now, not only had I become the SuperWife, but my role as "his mistress" had gone from better than average to, whoah man, most men have to pay for this kind of stuff!  Yeah, I truly felt like I was on the SuperWoman roll.  A clean and settled home and a more than happy and fulfilled spouse.

I made the huge, did I spell that out clearly, H-U-G-E mistake of speaking out my claims to superdom... what a mistake. It was quickly met with a, "Welllllllll, I don't know that you have been being super anything.  Yes, you are trying hard and doing an amazing job, but we still argue and disagree."

WTheck!  My immediate description of how I felt about that statement was, "I feel like you just put a lid on my candle."  I felt awful.  I had no claim to superdom, my only claim was to superDUMB!

So much for my moment of conceit. It was obviously one of those moments where you walk away thinking, "Damn! That was the best I had." and accepting defeat.  Perhaps my only fault was in thinking I was super.  Perhaps things would have gone differently had I just accepted I was doing my best.  Again, who knows?

So, I'd like to end this rant with a few words of wisdom that a dear FB friend shared quoted by Mother Teresa, "The good you do today may be forgotten tomorrow. Do good anyway. Give the world the best you have and it may never be enough. Give your best anyway. For you see, in the end, it is between you and God. It was never between you and them anyway."~ Mother Teresa


So, I will continue to be the lady who lays her claim to superdom, and fingers crossed, I won't be looking back thinking I was just superDUMB.

Ode to sweaty men everywhere

It's ironic. All through grade school we scoffed those with bad body odor, armpit stink, gym odor, etc. (shame on me), and now I find myself strangely loving the smell of my husband's sweaty body and even enjoying his sweaty laundry. For years I thought it was a little strange. Yeah, I know the research says that body odor includes pheromones. However, I was struck by the fact that something that had once been perceived as a bit gross was now quite enjoyable.

To make a valuable point, a study published in the journal Biology of Reproduction, suggested something in the perspiration brightened women's moods and helped them feel less tense. Wysocki, a study co-author, said the research could point to a "chemical communication" subtext between the sexes... And, while there was no indication of sexual arousal during this research, Wysocki did acknowledge that, "In a more sensual setting, exposure to these odors might facilitate the emergence of sexual mood or feelings."

WHAM! I'm not weird!! At least not in this context.

On to my story. Last night, after big C and I had completed a four-mile run in temps with a heat index of 109, we lounged on the back patio. I slid into our little patio love seat right next to him and enjoyed being in the presence of this sweaty man. Something that many others might find unsatisfying, possibly even making them want to sit quite a long distance from this sweaty man, was bringing me such joy.  I felt at ease, protected, loved... and well, a bit like we needed to be alone and the kidlets needed to go to bed immediately. I know all those feelings are also the product of our almost 11 years of marriage, but in the back of my mind, I also know that his sweaty body and the pheromones released through his sweat contribute to that feeling.

It's really amazing how many variables play such a significant role in the relationship of couples.  So yes baby, I like to get sweaty with you... and I like to sit right next to you when you are all soaked with sweat.  I like to workout with you and frankly, all this sweat makes my role as mistress that much more fulfilling.

So... I suggest, quite naively, don't be afraid to sniff your sweaty man or that sweaty laundry he left laying on the bedroom floor!

More than a SAHM

You read that right. I'm more than a stay at home mom. I'm a homeschooling mom, cook, cleaner extraordinaire, and one hot husband pleasing woman. The latter part is just how I see it.

So often I have friends ask, "How do you do it all? It seems like everything is perfect with your relationship and your children." I'm honored that people think so. It's not always so. We have some major knock down drag out fights (well, me and the big C, not the littles... obviously), but we love like there's no tomorrow (and frankly, like sex is going out of style). 

Personally, I think sex is the key to a hot, happy, and intimate marriage. We can be friends all day long, but without our intimiate relationship, our happy and pleasing intimate relationship... we'd just be friends. Friends is great, but in a marriage, you need more than just a friend. There's a much deeper connection to be had, a trust, a respect... well, it's a journey. It's passion.

We are blessed to have been one another's first and only; I think in today's society that gives us an advantage that others see as unfair. However, I don't know. I can't speak for others. We have had 10+ years to practice intimacy and trust me, it's good. We've learned the art of mutual pleasure.

So how do we stay so happy? Why do things seem so good? I'm the hot steamy mistress by night and he's the amazing and passionate hotty that this wife needs by day.

And this works great for us...

Stuck like...

Well... you know how peanut butter sticks to the roof of your mouth and drives you absolutely batty? You must have a glass of milk to pry the sticky substance of gooey goodness down from the roof of your mouth. You go nuts without the milk, right? You don't want to deal with the sticky... but you still go for the peanut butter because it's so darn good. That's my life; in a nut shell.

So good, so delectable... and at times all I want to do is get the sticky off the roof of my mouth!

I would never trade my sticky peanut butter life for anything... EVER!

The joy that is...

I've debated doing this blog for months now. I'm such an open person. No secrets here. I feel like secrets are intended for people with something to hide. I don't hide much.

Just a quick run down: I'm actually married to my high school sweetheart. We began dating in 1997 and in 2000 we were married. It's been joyful bliss since.
I am no one's mistress and don't intend to ever be such to anyone other than my husband, of course. Why the name, you ask? Well, things get pretty outlandish and wild and frankly, immature at times. It just seemed fitting and well, pretty darn catchy too. I also like to think that during the daylight hours I'm just his wife, but when the lights go out... I'm more mistress than wife. ;)

I'm also the mother of two fine homeschooled children. Blessed, indeed.

For what it's worth, I rant, I rave, I whine (and wine), and I shout with joy. I have been cursed with this amazing ability to feel things on a much deeper level than most people I know. On top of that... I was given the gift of gab -- in writing.

So, here I am. Angry. Joyful. Loved. Loving. Liberated. Confined. Blessed. Misfortunate. The rollercoaster of my life... as his mistress and his wife.

Please, come join me on this wild ride. Meet the mistress and meet the wife.