A Return to ‘Civilization’

The big transition I’ve been dreading has arrived. And I find myself…excited and mournful.

I’ve been a Stay-At-Home-Mom ( SAHM) for fifteen years, homeschooling or the kids in a **small** private school ( we had 27 kids k4-12 at the hight) during that time. And I loved it! I loved watching the light bulb go off in their brains. I loved watching them learn the hard lessons of respect, hugging them when they fall – being their safe place. I loved being home with my kids- inspite of the crazy they produce in me. I actually find I cherish the constant bickering, and fighting and noise… because someday, sooner rather than later, it will be gone. And I can’t ever get that back. My house will be too quiet to think. All too soon Eldest will be leaving for college. I worry I’m abandoning him when he needs me most. My Middle is just beginning to discover herself, and blossom. And Youngest … I worry I’m failing him the most.

But life has a way of forcing our hand sometimes. I have to say good-bye to this season, and return to work. And I choose not to be resentful. I choose to rejoice that I am capable of doing so. I choose to find my silver lining, thin as it may be.

I hired a resume service to help me put together a resume because I was at a complete loss without a copy of my 19 year old previous one. Best advice Daddy gave me in this journey. I must admit … She did an amazing job!

So now the search begins. And my kids are feeling the changes. I dearly wish it didn’t have to be this way. That I could stay home and be ‘Mom’…. but I have to be both parents now and that means I have to be the breadwinner too.

So, with trepidation and sorrow, excitement and regret I posted my resume on several sites and contacted a few agencies. Hopefully this won’t take forever and I can be working by the first of the year.

And my kids … well… prayer is my friend with them…



‘I’m starting to miss homework reports’, Daddy said in conversation.

‘I had been thinking it has been FOREVER since I had homework, ‘ I replied.

‘What kind of homework would you like?’

‘Be creative.’ I immediately thought of HeartsHope post about being careful what you wish for… or in my case… what words you speak.

‘Oh… I can be a very creative man’

Yeah… I know… I’m a bit worried now..

Broken prt 2

Daddy and I were discussing Broken and that he had not realized I had intended to publish it.

That lead to a lengthy discussion about discussing publishing the more emotional posts. ( Which I thought I had done, but he did not feel included)

That lead to an exchange that stunned me.

I did not view Broken as holding a mirror up to Daddy to see how he had hurt me. I viewed it strictly as me processing through what had happened and how I felt about it. In my head… it wasn’t about him. And therein laid the problem.

It did not occur to me that he grieved having hurt me. Felt badly, yes. Strive not to in The future, yes. But grieved his heart? No. His response?

“Then you really don’t know how much I love you”

And he’s right… I don’t. Those around me that love me are sad they hurt me, and I don’t think doing it a second time is an option in their world, and while I see compassion … I don’t think I’ve ever seen grief.

It was very new… and somewhat foreign… that someone would be … grieved by that over me.

And yet again, this man I love, surprises me with the depth of his heart for me. The intensity of what he feels toward me. Someone recently said they understand why Daddy loves me the way he does. I don’t. I know all the faults and sins and ugly parts of me. The flaws and rough rocks of me. And someone has spent a good part of my life making sure I see them. We are so quick to protect against physical and sexual abuse, but over look or excuse emotional and mental abuse. Sometimes not even recognizing it’s happening to us.

Sigh… so here I stand, staring into those blue eyes that love me so… completely baffled by his desire for me. And yet so grateful he finally found his way back to me.


Daddy and I had a… I don’t know what to call it. But it wasn’t pleasant.

I wasn’t entirety aware of an activity that had been taking place in his world. Something I have been vocal that I am entirely uncomfortable with. I should have known it. We had spoken briefly about it a few months ago. But I didn’t put all the pieces of what he was saying together, until tonight when we were discussing various other things that tied into it. That epiphany did not go well.

I’m hurt, that this was taking place. I’m angry, with myself for not recognizing the details and their implications earlier. I’m angry with him, for not being upfront. And I’m disappointed, that he allowed it.

He has said it stops now, and will not take place again. And he did put an end to it. But there’s a part of me that is stunned and uncertain how to see all of that. He could easily have lied about it, but chose not to. I give him credit for that, because we are long distance he could lie about anything and I wouldn’t know.

Aside from being hurt and disappointed and displeased that these were happening, I am angry Daddy had not honored his edict between us. If he’s not going to step forward and honor this between us, how can I trust that he is truly willing to be honest with me?

I find myself struggling to trust what he says. I want to trust him, but deception was a main failing point of my marriage. I struggle not to fall into suspicious habits. I’m struggling to separate which portion of my anger is his, and which portion is historical from my ex. Daddy had given me no cause or reason to disbelieve him previous to this… but I was married to an addict for almost 18 years… 18 years of deception and lies and manipulation and tears and begging to have my husband back. Obviously… That didn’t happen… so setting aside the automatic reaction to remove trust is hard. However I don’t want to hold him accountable to someone else’s failings.

We spoke at length about it all last night… to the wee hours of the morning. Honoring our Don’t Not Talk. We discussed how we move forward. What actions we each take. And that time is our friend here. But… oh… coming from a history with neglected trust… sometimes trust is what seems so distant.

A Struggle of Faith

I’ve been struggling of late with faith and the various aspects of the D/s….the various ideas and thoughts and desires…that bubble to the surface. I struggle to reconcile the scripture I’ve been taught and love with the desires of the flesh.

I’ve spent many a study hour in Proverbs 31… and while I see value in this woman, she’s not someone I will ever completely embody- mostly because I require more sleep to be nice. I struggle with The Commandments and the things Daddy and I discuss. But…oh… how they tempt me…

I struggle with the idea of introducing another to our bed. This is probably my biggest struggle. It’s not something I take lightly, nor Daddy. And he doesn’t push. But his desire for such is evident. My temptation by this is constant. I’ve reconciled most of my concerns about the impact on relationships, but this portion… this portion of such thought… stumbles me. I can’t help but feel I’ve grieved His heart, disappointed Him by the mere thought. By allowing the temptation to continue.

Daddy and I discuss it… but having differing views… he doesn’t see my stumbling block as I do. I understand his view. It simply doesn’t answer my need to find peace in this. It doesn’t settle my soul’s need to find the place to fit it all… my submission to Him, my submission to Daddy, being true to me, being true to Daddy, being open to the pleasures Daddy wants to give, and still holding on to faith.

I haven’t found the compatible place for each of these. I desperately want to, but… sigh… I know not how… and that makes me struggle with disappointing Daddy. And myself to some degree. Knowing there are….interactions… I would very much like to partake of… but not at the expense of me. So I ponder and I wonder and I seek a place for this- thing- that pulls me so. And it’s not like I can walk into my local church and ask for thoughts. Our lifestyle is so misunderstood to begin with, there would be more teaching done on my end than guidance on the minister’s.

I know such an event is in the distance, after many more hours of pondering and reconciliation. If I ever find the place that all can exist together.

The Holidays

The end of the year holidays are not my favorite. Easter’s my favorite, but we will talk about that then.

The end of the year has almost always brought difficulty in my world. Lost jobs, lost friends, lost family… it seems every year is a different conglomerate of people and events. And I find myself eyeing the calendar as the days of the year draw to a close, waiting for the event that will mar this year.

*Sigh* I wish I could shake the need to sit down and weep, but it hovers behind me like an unworn coat.

I recognize the memory of the season, and make a point to tell those that are normally forgotten, “You’re remembered and thought of.” To hug those close by and be grateful for what I have: beautiful healthy children, a man desperately in love with me ( and I with him), friends – new and old, and a faith that has carried me through so many of life’s events.

These days aren’t happy for everyone, and for those of you that struggle… I get it….

And for those of you lost in the joys of the day and the season… I get that too…

Happy Thanksgiving… to you and yours… may the gratitude of today spill over into Black Friday Madness!

The Week

Daddy and I have had a week. I would say it was a comedy of errors, but it wasn’t funny.

It started last Sunday together with a misunderstanding that didn’t get completely resolved until Tuesday or Wednesday. And the hits just kept coming.

A few weeks ago Daddy received some world shattering news. Monday morning he walked out of my arms and Monday night straight into a bomb. It left us both reeling. In the midst of this were misunderstandings and miscommunications. One was significant enough, I went to bed with only ‘Good night, Daddy’. There were no loving words. I was angry and hurt and did not understand why my Loving Daddy was suddenly critical over something that had been done over a month ago. I didn’t understand his sudden insistence for an ‘update’, or what *exactly* I was supposed to ‘update’.

I did not sleep well. I knew we needed to deal with it, and it had to be in the morning , as I had kid commitments. So I reluctantly opened the conversation.

And ever Daddy- he saw the heart of the issue and knew the specifics of the event were irrelevant. I had been dealing with a hypercritical situation previous to our conversation, I couldn’t do anything right by that person. I directly stepped into my conversation w Daddy and didn’t let go of the mindset of ‘ can’t do anything right’. It’s a conditioning I’ve dealt with all my life. I sincerely do not believe my mother intended to create this ‘you can’t do anything right’ mindset, but tell a child they aren’t good enough long enough, and it doesn’t matter what your intent. After Ladybug was born, it became comparison of ‘why can’t you be more like your sister?’. A comment that only stopped in the last six or seven years. And not one I blame you for, Ladybug.

This conditioning creates an automatic response that I’ve done something wrong. In everything. Which is what happened here. And it’s what Daddy addressed. That he was merely making a suggestion. That he loves me- all the crazy me too- and everything he does, he does from that standpoint. That type of devotion is foreign to me. It makes Daddy something of an enigma to me.

This safety I have in him… is perplexing at times, and baffling at others. That I can be in the middle of a discussion with Daddy, lost in my own perceptions and emotions, and he can reach in and see the heart of it all. And he does it in the distance, online, without me present. He’s very intuitive with me. Sometimes it feels safe to be so known. Sometimes it scares me. Other times I think… planning surprise parties for this man is going to be a monumental task!!

Because I Can…

I’m feeling a bit out of sorts today. So much of life is happening and I can do nothing.

HeartsofHope posted with some of her crochet that she’s done to relieve the stress of late. She’s inspired me to pick up my smocking and embroidery needles.

I thought I would share some of my very early pieces. The ones I learned on…

This is the bodice to my youngest baptismal gown. I altered an existing pattern to put the lace inserts in and created my own smocking pattern.

This is the embroidery for a slip I made for our Pediatrician ( I love her that much). I made a gown to go with it. The hemline embroidery circles the gown.

Christina’s and Dedication outfits for friends. You can’t see the blue smocking on the jumper, or the beads in the snowflakes.

A little dress that designed itself at church one night, when I realized a friend was pregnant but not announcing yet. This little cherry motif was one of my favorites.

That’s all I have crisp pictures of. I need to unbury my fabrics and let my brain drift…

Lazy Day

Saturday morning he was not feeling particularly well. But he soldiered on. I don’t remember how it started, just that he was in my ass that morning. And it was exactly what I wanted. What I needed. Him taking pleasure from my body in the way he chose. I enjoy that he choose how to use me for his pleasure, sometimes he’ll ask my desire, sometimes he’ll give me what I choose. Usually he chooses for me. I’m rarely disappointed by the time he finds his pleasure.

Several times through the day I had his cock in my throat. He had my clit in his mouth. But mostly we just laid in bed, naked, together and dozed and talked or watching one another in silence. And touch. The normal things couples do that the distance steals from us.

My head on his shoulder, his head in my lap. My fingers simply touching him. And that was enough. To simply touch him. (I found my hands on him to the point I started to feel clingy, and apologized for doing so. He simply smiled at me. If we were together all the time, it would be clingy and drive him nuts…. but we aren’t, and he understands my need to feel him). To open my eyes and see him next to me. How I find I treasure the simple things. The things I know, when we’re together ( geographically), I’ll be tempted to take for granted.

But for now, I get to watch his steel blue eyes watch me. I get to listen to his thoughts as he shares his about this or that, thinking out loud. How I cherish those moments. The sound of his voice.

We decided to see a movie. Another normal couple thing the distance takes from us. We decided some time ago that we needed movie dates. Same movie, different theaters, sharing our evening together via text. That hasn’t been available to us yet. Just the demands of life prevent it… but it made us remember and giggle and remind ourselves we need that too.

It was a simple quiet day. I had him all to myself. And again… the distance didn’t win.

Watching Him Go…

… there’s more to shares about the weekend. Some things I need to process…

This morning was the inevitable ‘Good-bye’.

The final kiss.

The last hug.

The moment’s ‘I love you’

I’m grateful for what we had. We so needed it. We both have lives to prepare for ‘merging’… that’s going to play out a bit in the next few months.

So I’ll have this to hold on to. His lips on mine as we said our last.

And that he loves me. Always.