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)!
Saturday, August 6, 2011
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
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.
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.
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
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?
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?
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.
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!
Saturday, July 23, 2011
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...
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...
Friday, July 22, 2011
Stuck like...
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!
Thursday, July 21, 2011
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.
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.
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