Oops!

I know that it's awful to laugh when you're in trouble. But, sometimes...sometimes, you just can't help yourself.

The other night, after a rather frisky encounter, we were lying in bed; I rolled over and looked at Steven and asked one of the questions that he rather dreads.

"Did you feed the animals today?" He thumped his head back against the pillow. Now, let me be clear: I normally do it. I don't much like the way he does, and it stresses me out, wondering whether or not my babies got fed. That being said, when I ask him to, I expect it done....but, I still ask, just in case.

"Not yet," he grumbled.

"Not even first breakfast?" I gasped, eyes flying to my phone to check the time. 8:30 pm! "Honey, they're probably starving!" In a t-shirt that hung to my knees and little else, I dashed out to the garage to get the dog food.

But...ya know, that bag was SUPER heavy. I don't mean a little bit, I mean I picked it up and grunted my way out the garage door, trying to get it around to the front yard. Unfortunately, this took me bending over--which I realized in the garage. Not wanting to flash my panties to our new neighbors, I went back inside.

"Honey, you're going to have to do it. The bag's just super heavy, and I need your help. Besides, you were supposed to have fed them today anyway." He groaned. He grumbled. He whined. He told me to take the bowls to the dog food, one at a time.  "Fine, then!" I snapped, finally at my wit's end. "I'll just get it myself!" It was dark, I reasoned. Who was gonna see anyway?

So, I went back to get the dog food and proceeded to drag the bag around towards the porch. Just for reference. Our new house is connected to an off the house garage via a kind of deck that has two layers. Directly in front of the building is nothing but woodlands. Directly behind is a ridiculously steep hill; a trailer with a sweet little old man living in it adorns the top. On either side of our house is another. The deck, however, is blocked by the garage and the house.

I had made it half way to the porch when the door inched open, and Steven stuck his head out. "Hey," he said. "Give me a minute, let me put some clothes on, and I'll come get it. Just come back inside."

"No," I said adamantly. "Look at the boys...they've already seen the food, and they need first AND second breakfast before we go to bed. I'll just take care of it, and you can do it next time. IF you've even fed them the times you've said...this bag is awfully full for you to have fed them the last two days."

He rolled his eyes. "I fed them! Maybe not as much as YOU feed them, but I fed them! Now, come back inside. I'm serious. I'll take care of it. I should have fed them, and I didn't but I will." I glanced at the boys. All three were dancing around in front of the gate, eyes trained on the bright red bag in my hand.

"No. I'll just do it. YOU go back inside. I'LL tend our pets." He growled. Like, actually rumbled down deep in his chest. I fought back a snort. "And, close the door," I instructed. "I don't have jammie bottoms on under this, and with the garage light, the porch light, and the kitchen light all coming through the doors, the whole deck's lit up."

"Grace," he said, irritated, "You're pushing it. I'm serious, you're about to get yourself spanked for not listening. I'm telling you. I'll take care of the dogs. I'm sorry I didn't do it earlier, but I'll get it now. Come back inside."

"No," I shrugged, feeling very matter of fact.

"Grace..."His tone was laden with warning. "If I have to come out there, I'll spank you all the way to the bedroom before we even get started...come inside. Now."

"You can't come out here, you're..." and the door flung open, and he stormed outside. Stark naked. His hands on his hips, fire shooting out of his eyes--under normal circumstances, he might have made quite an imposing picture...but, with all the lights spotlighting the deck, and him buck naked...I felt a traitorous giggle forcing itself up out of my throat...I clapped my hands over my mouth.

"Back inside," he snarled, pointing towards the kitchen door. I lost it. I started laughing and didn't stop until I had been bent over the bed for a hot minute. I quit then...but, I will say, I've teased him about it mercilessly since...and now, even he sees the humor...

That Was Six!

"Alright. Does that all make sense?"

"Yes, Pastor--it's pretty much a walk down the isle, repeat after me thing. Got it." I nodded vigorously, trying to hide my nerves behind the make-up and curls.

"And, don't forget--we don't want hoots and hollers or anything, but hold the kiss long enough that our photographers can get some good pictures."

"Oh...how long is that? Like, I could use some direction. Can you give me a number to count to?"

"Oh, ok...uhm, how about five?"

"Five." Another vigorous nod. "Like...1, 2, 3 kind of five? Or 1 Mississippi, 2 Mississippi?"

The pastor looked utterly confused, but then smiled off my oddness.

"One, two, three will be fine," he assured me. "Don't worry. You make a beautiful bride."

"Thank you--uhm, you're gonna tell Steven, too, right? You'll tell him it's five?" After a promise to do just that, he made his way out of my tiny dressing room and down the hall to where my fiancé waited. Dad took my arm.

"I'm so proud of you. He's going to love it...but, remember--don't lock your knees; seen way too many people drop like a horse at the altar from locking their knees." I barely had time to roll my eyes before the bridal march started, and the doors swung open.

Steven stood at the end of that isle, seeming so very far away and so very dashing in his suit, my bright yellow themed flowers pinned to his chest.

I met him at the end, our close family and a few friends looking on. After a hurried whisper, insuring he had in fact been told '5', we said our vows.

He said "I do,", and I did, too.

And, they announced my new name, and told Steven he could kiss me--like he's ever needed permission. :)

"That was six!" I yelped as I pulled away--my first words as a married woman.

Romantic, huh? :)

Waiting For a Spanking...Ew

There's something really, really unpleasant about waiting for a spanking...

ESPECIALLY if I know that said spanking is going to be...quite sincere.

Add on to that a total, crushing weight of guilt...

And, you get: Suck. And Dread. Like, capital D Dread.

I worked last night. Went in at 7. Arrived home at 7:30. At 7:45, Steven had to get up and get ready for work. He gets off at 7 tonight, then a thirty minute drive home. And, then, I'm sure, I will get a truly terrible thrashing.

I've mentioned several times that we're closing on the house soon. Wednesday, in fact. We were laying in bed, trying to discuss the times that would work best last night, when his phone buzzed. We both knew it was the lending lady, so I snatched it to be the first to see what she said.

Irritated, he snatched it back and took it straight into the text and showed it to me.

To a normal person, I'm sure that would be no big deal...to me, I had flashbacks a certain other intercepted text messages and the heart wrenching months that followed. Immediately, I flopped over onto my stomach, facing away from him.

"Fine," I hissed, irate. "Go cyber-fuck whoever you want. See if I care."

(In case you guys missed it, that was definitely a mistake.)

"What?"

"You heard me," I grumbled. And, he swatted me! (Granted, now I'm very aware that it was for attitude..but, at the time--and I still don't know that I feel it was his wisest course of action, given the circumstances--all I could feel was a horrible sting and the feeling he was scquelching my feelings for his mistakes.)

Like a jackrabbit, I popped up and---

(Insert groan and face palm here)

Slapped him, right across the face. I called him a cheating son of a bitch, and everything else I could think of. We argued for the next hour while I got ready for work. I felt angry, and wore it like armor, not letting myself feel anything else.


I thought he was going to spank me.

He told me he intended to. And then added, "But not right now. You're not in the right frame of mind, it'll just make you angry. And, I'm not cheating. I haven't since that last time. I'm trying to prove that I 'm ready for it to just be us, starting our life's journey together. I'm sorry for what I've done. But, right now--a spanking won't be something that helps you. It'll just piss you off." A pause. "Do you need me to bring you lunch?"

I informed him quite roundly that I was NEVER going to be in the right mindset for a spanking for slapping him, when God knew he deserved it! Steven shrugged me off. I had just finished getting dressed, when I turned around and looked at him.

"Why? Why wasn't I good enough then, and what on earth makes me good enough now? I haven't changed."

He sighed.

"It was never about you not being good enough. Never. You are. I don't know what possessed me when I did that, but it was wrong, and not at all your fault." He said it was all on him....

But.

I still slapped him.

And that's always off limits. He assured me that he never hit me anywhere but the bottom, and I was never to hit him. But, especially not in the face.

I left, and I stewed. And simmered. And cursed. And cried. And worked. And, slowly, remorse started to filter in.

I don't think my panic or reaction were inappropriate. I feel that they were the consequences of what he's done, and that they will take a long, long time to heal.

But...hitting...eesh.

Out of line.

And, now...

Now, I wait.

Ew.

There Are Days

There are days...

I want to quit.

Shorty!

It's been forever since I posted. Forever and ever.

And this one, it's going to have to be short.

Like super short.

Like, "we're closing on the house Friday, and there's only 19 more sleeps until our wedding" kind of short.

I need to go paint the new house, and pack and clean this one.

And bottle feed the kittens.

Because, really, what tomcat brings kittens home??

Oh, yeah, that's ours. (Super cute, though!!)

But, I'm slammed, so off I go!

Miss everyone! I'll post ASAP when all this has settled down.

One of Those Life-Altering Chats

Over the couse of the last few weeks, I think Steven has wanted to strangle me. I've had doubts, second-guessing myself constantly. Did I look ok? was I gaining or losing weight? Did Steven REALLY want to marry me, or had he finally succumbed to my desire to be married? What was the change? Was it real?

Last night, it all came to a very, very important head--one of those desperately important, life-changing conversations. I don't think we've ever been this blunt or open with one another. We had gone to his aunt to get his hair cut, and while we were there, I was hounding him for attention, for confirmation. I wanted to be held and rubbed and crooned to. He wanted to play his crossword puzzle. I took the book and acted generally bratty. After we left, he pulled over in a small, run down community park.

"Knees in the seat," he commanded. The car, since the addition of the family roommates, has become his new favorite place to spank. I know he thought I was over-reacting, hard as I cried. When he sat him up and asked how I felt, if I was done, what all was I thinking--that whole mantra, all I could choke out was that he'd just ruined one of the last places we'd ever flirted.

Sidenote here: when he and I first got together, we had a very playful, challenging, competetive sort of relationship. Everything was a game, an opportunity to flirt, full of innuendo and drenched in promise. But, it's been quite a long time since I've felt that same intention. You all know how I've struggled with the sex issues, the feeling undesired, all of that. I told him that sometimes, when he spanked me for being 'smart-alec' or disrespectful, I'd been playing, and that I felt like he was trying to change my personality. That it was the same as if someone had asked him to give up all sarcasm. That I felt like it changed the dynamic of our relationship, and made me afraid to say what I might have said otherwise. And, ya know what? He listened. He heard me. I felt heard, way deep down inside, with more than ears.

He was baffled. And, so, for the first truly open conversation we've had in some time, I confessed to a lot of things: to being afraid to kiss him deeply, for fear he won't want it, or will pull away. The fear to flirt, because what if he doesn't respond like he used to? Or at all? And, my fear to instigate sex, or certain things during.

"Why?" he asked, "Why would you feel that way?" And, (because he says I keep a log book,) I brought up some of the times that I'd felt rejected or not wanted. He didn't try to defend himself. He didn't try to deny it. I asked him why he'd stopped flirting, why he'd stopped pursuing me. I told him that I hadn't done everything right either--and I really haven't.

I am THAT girl. The one that's super easy to cheat on, or to lose interest in, because I get so focused on other things. I completely overlook the relationship part of our life together, most of the time. I want to be sure the house is clean, the dogs are looked after, we have enough money, I've worked long enough, hard enough. I want to chase our dreams, so that someday, we can have a farm with horse and four wheelers(his dream there, not mine), a big off-the-house garage, kids, adopted deaf kids, cookies always baking in the oven, dogs underfoot...And I picture us happy, sitting out on the front porch, still swapping secrets...when I've let our relationship completely go by the wayside. We don't talk, I don't ask questions. I've always thought a big chunk of relationships is truly just dying to know all the little things: that his favorite color is orange, that his parents convinced him when he was little that splinters fell out when you went to sleep. That his true love is antiquity and the unique. That, despite our choice of pets, he's terrifed of big dogs....and, I quit searching. I fell into the easy comfort of being with someone, and I quit asking the questions. In response, he quit.


"I understand if you're never faithful," I informed him last night. "I get too focused, and I forget to live our life together. I know I'd be like this with anyone, and I DO love you, so I guess I'm willing to deal with it." He looked away.

"I am going to be faithful," he murmured. Then, there was silence.

"What's in your head? I can't follow you," I told him after a few long, long minutes.

"That was just..kind of hurtful," Steven responded, quiet. "You basically just told me that you were settling for me." I hadn't considered it that way, and I told him so. I had just been making the point that I was as guilty for some of the things that went down(not necessarily the cheating, though that's how that sounded I know,) as he was. That I wanted to be chased, and loved and pursued, but I wasn't giving, and a relationship is a two way street.

And, certainly, I don't think he's been perfect either, but I've spent an awful lot of time feeling the victim. I haven't wanted to dress nice for a long time, I've felt fat, I've ridden myself hard about it, in front of him, to myself; I've not worn make-up or anything other than sweat pants. And, it's not that he so much minds. But, before, I WANTED to make myself look beautiful for him. I wanted to dress in the clothes he liked, wear my make-up the way he liked. Let my eyes be huge. Make out in a car, just because. Not with sex as the end goal, but just because. Look at him, deep into brown eyes that surely are as deep as the sky and let him read my mind. The second time we ever kissed, he pulled back and groaned, and looked at him.

"What?" I felt suspicious, all straddled up in the car with him.

"That look you just gave me."

"What's wrong with it?"

"Nothing. It said, 'I'm yours.' And it was perfect." And, he grabbed me again, deep kisses that I crave, even still. That's been years ago now, but  I want that kind of fun with him again.

We're trying: as one song said, 'We're not broken, we're just bent, and we can learn to love again.' I do love him. He does love me. But, we need to bring back the fun and pure pleasure of loving again. We went on a picnic and laughed the whole time. He was trying to tell me where he wanted to go, and I said, "Oh, yeah! That place we got moonlighted by that cop!"

He cracked up, hooting, "Moonlighted?? Don't you mean spotlighted??" And, we had fun. We goofed off. And, I'm really looking forward to our loving that way again. Last night, he was totally open with me. He told me, when questioned why he hadn't been the same, "I'm not as unafraid of rejection as you think...you've pulled back sometimes, too, Grace."

We both have some things to change. But, I don't regret my decision to marry him. Since that time in September, we've made great strides in our relationship. Strides I didn't even know we needed to take. And, this, this is more than a baby step. This was a hurdle.

And, ya know what WE did last night?

We made out. Just because.

And before?

We made out, pressed against the hood of his car.

Before that, we whispered secrets, and talked about work, each really listening.

And, I want to know all his secrets, and his desires, and what he loves. I want to go on a motorcycle ride and take a watermelon (flashback from one of our early dates. We road out to a rather in the middle of nowhere spot, and he forgot to bring a knife. "Don't worry, I can fix this," he bragged, and tried to bust it open on the edge of the table. Didn't work. He ended up using the edge of a grill, and we had charcoal-watermelon for lunch.) I am excited to wake up beside him. And, I miss him desperately while he's at work.

This was huge.

A hurdle.

And, it's just the start.

It's Gonna Happen

"Babe?" my voice was little over a whisper. It didn't matter. He can hear my breathing change when he's asleep.

"Mm?"

"I miss God. Like, the relationship. Sometimes, I feel like I have to choose between the two of you--what with us living together and everything. It makes me sad."

"Does it?"

"Yeah."

We lay in bed, quiet, the night before Easter, hours after my last post. I felt my whole heart breaking, wishing for something forever away. I cried, and his hand just made circles on my back until I fell asleep.

The next morning, at church, music swelled up all around and I felt at peace for the first time in ages and ages and ages. We sang, and he stood there beside me, and I felt wonderful. A beautiful reminder that not only does Perfection love me, He died for me. And for Steven. And it was amazing.

"I wish we were married," I signed to him. "That would make this perfect. Why don't we just do it? Just get married? Just like that. I don't care if we don't have a wedding. I don't care."

A speculative look. Then a flick of his hands.

"When?"

I felt a shiver of excitement. That's never how he answers. He always answers with a laugh and a shake of his head and some comment about how we're too young, or we should just wait.

"Next week?" I grinned at him. He snorted, and I was thankful for the music covering the sound. Otherwise, that might have been awkward.

"Probably not next week," he signed back. My face fell. He was probably meaning some abstract two years out date.

"When then?" A pause, a cock of his head.

"May?"

We didn't decide on May. We have decided to have a small wedding. J is coming. Dad is ok with that. It was the first time I'd told him I still saw and was close to J. And the wedding is in June. Steven insists on proposing, even though he says he feels silly asking me to marry him after we've already set a date.

I don't think that's silly. I think it'll still be special.

We had a small argument the other night about it. I feel like the question doesn't have to me "marry me"...I think it's more than that. It's a commitment to be with me and only me. It's a love me forever kind of question. It's a we're going to push through whatever we have to in order to be together. It's a promise to put the past aside and push towards a better, brighter future. Even still, I mentioned maybe cancelling or post-poning. He adamently disagreed.

"How can your mind go there?" he asked me. "No, I don't want to postpone. I sure don't want to cancel. Since we picked a date, I've never looked back. Not once. We're doing this." And, we went to Dollywood. And, then,  we went to our favorite diner near there--the one we went to the first time we got back together. Our second first date diner. :)

And, I'm excited.

He's going to marry me.

(He says he's still proposing.)

And, we're going to push ahead, and love each other, and start going to a church(assuming we can find one we agree on.)

Now, for finding the appropriate dress. :)