Tuesday Chat

Tuesday was gray and gloomy, and I woke with a cloud directly over my head. I've put a lot of time and energy into combating the seasonal affective disorder blues. Friends have given me excellent advice on supplements, full spectrum lighting, and other holistic remedies that I have invested in, and for the most part, I've found a satisfying relief from the emotional discomfort I'd endured year after year.  But every once in a while it seems like the weather can bypass the treatment, and spin me into a funk.

B'Man notice my fetal position and curled up with me in the bed after he had been fully dressed. He kissed me on the neck and whispered in my ear,"Do I have to break out the paddle?"

I managed to smile and shake my head adamantly as I assured him that I would be fine.

This evening he was expected across town to preach at a friend's ministry, and there were a few things that he wanted me to take care of by the end of the day. A little cleaning, a couple of errands that he needed me to run, a light dinner, and of course, the all important getting to the gym for cardio and endorphins. Certainly not a difficult day in hindsight, but...

I spent the day dragging. The procrastination monster was hot on my heels, and I had stumbled long enough for it to catch and devour me. I was sure I had put aside enough time to finish everything that he expected of me, and as time went on, I kept telling myself that if I left just a little later, I'd be able to squeeze everything in.

I stopped off at my mother's house for lunch, and wasted time there eating sweets and watching part of a Law and Order marathon while time slipped away.  By the time I left her place for the gym, it was too late. Not only had I finished nothing B'Man had asked me to do, but in my anger with myself, I became angry with him. My workout was whittled down to a worthless ten minutes, I picked up the ingredients for his dinner too late for him to eat before he had to leave, I had cleaned nothing. At the last minute, I raced around to three different stores searching for an item he had asked me to pick up for him. I was a mess, and I was pissed. I called him on the way home and snapped at him that his all important item was no where to be found, and he had sent me on an impossible wild goose chase... and it's his fault that I was running late.

Walking in the door, I was irritated, nervous and on edge. He was in the living room, rehearsing his sermon for the evening. I angrily tossed the groceries on the counter, and started tearing around the kitchen to prepare his dinner. He stopped rehearsing and put his hand up to tell me that it was okay, that it was too late to start dinner, and he had to leave soon. Luckily he had had a late lunch, so it wasn't a big deal.

When he finally left, I dove for the phone and dialed my friend Janet from Finding Our Way. She hadn't been around in a while, and I wanted to check on her, and just hear a friendly voice. It was a given that I was going to be spanked hard when B'Man got home that evening. My procrastination and attitude made sure of that, and I really needed someone to talk me down off a ledge. I tried to hide the fact that I was in trouble for the first few minutes of our conversation, but she heard the tremors in my voice and insisted I tell her what was wrong. When the story came out, she said something to the effect of, "Procrastinating again? Will you ever learn?"

Ah, the love of good friends!

She had me giggling for about an hour until she had to go, and she made me promise to update her on Wednesday morning... and once again, I was left alone with my guilt and anxiety.

An hour later I got on the computer and logged on to my Tuesday night chat with those women that B'Man calls, "my spanko girlfriends." The story of my infraction came out almost immediately, and as I was teased and jabbed throughout the conversation, I felt not so alone in my fretfulness. There's something about unloading on other women when there's an impending doom looming over your head that gives one a sense of peace... if only for a moment.

When B'Man pulled into the parking lot, visible from our window, I quickly told everyone goodbye, logged off, and waited.

I was immediately taken to the den where I was placed across his knee and spanked hard with the bath brush, my wails muffled by the throw pillow and my legs pinned down between his as he scolded me for not only my disobedience and procrastination, but more importantly my apparent disinterest in keeping the SAD at bay.

Sore and sniveling, I made my way back to my laptop in the living room, and logged back into the chat room. My girlfriends welcomed me back and pumped me for details with a measure of humor and sympathy.  I was given advice, admonishments, jokes, and cyber hugs as I adjusted my throbbing butt on the couch cushions and wiped my tears with the sleeve of my shirt. I sulked and laughed my way through the next 40 minutes or so until B'Man came out and kissed me on the cheek.

"You still hate me?" he asked.

"Nah," I said.

"Good.  Be sure to tell your spanko girlfriends I took it easy on you," he said as he went to the fridge for a bottle of water.

"They won't believe me," I said.  "They're already convinced you're a beast."

He smiled as he walked back into the den.  I can't prove it, but I'm pretty sure he gets a kick out of having that reputation, especially since he considers himself a Teddy bear.

The Key Thing

The whole key thing had gotten out of hand. I couldn't tell you why I kept screwing up in this area, only that I felt out of control every time the keys were misplaced or lost or locked in the car. Here I am, an intelligent woman with an above average IQ, and something was causing me to feel and act like a blithering idiot when it came to those damned keys. The last time was so frustrating I felt sure that some unseen force had taken a choke hold on my brain, and I officially lacked the capacity to be responsible. As I told BabyMan about the lost keys, I cried. I was convinced that I could no longer be trusted... and I hated myself for my own stupidity.

When I told him over the phone that I had lost my keys, after so many mishaps over the last few weeks, the first thing he did was laugh. Normally, I'd be relieved to hear his laughter. B'Man sports a good sense of humor, and his laughter is usually relaxing to me, like wrapping myself in his arms and being held tight against his chest while I listen to his heart beating as I breathe in his cologne. His laughter is comfort food for me. But this time I could only bury my head in my hands and sob quietly.

I think at first he considered it not such a big deal. After all, they're just keys, certainly replaceable easily enough, and just a minor inconvenience. But he heard me agonizing over the incident, and realized that it was so much more. There was a sincere fear in my voice. A fear that I was losing confidence in myself, perhaps losing my mind a little. I felt stupid, untrustworthy, out of control, and angry at myself for being irresponsible and careless... again. When he finally made it clear that I was to be spanked for the lost keys, I was surprised. He had never punished me for something like this before. After all, it didn't fall under one of the four categories. I didn't lose the keys out of disrespect, disobedience, or dishonesty or dangerous behavior. It was simply an honest mistake.

We had plans to go out to dinner with friends that evening. He demanded that I "girl up," not only for the evening, but for a spanking. For a moment I felt worse. Not only am I a complete moron, but now I'm going to be a complete moron with a blistered behind. But I couldn't be angry with him. After all, he had every right to be frustrated with me.  Hell, I was frustrated with myself!

When he got home he wasted no time. But there was something in his demeanor that I hadn't expected. It was compassion. Don't get me wrong, B'Man is a very compassionate man, but I was expecting irritation behind those eyes. He took me to the bedroom and told me to bend over the bed as he lifted my skirt and pealed back my panties. My tears silently splashed on the beadspread.

"This isn't a punishment, Sugar," he said softly.

I frowned, confused. "Then what is it?"

"Well, first, I want you to feel better about this. I think this will help. You're awfully down on yourself, and I know you feel like you've let me down."

My guilt. He was attempting to alleviate my guilt. I shook my head indicating that I understood him.

"And second," he went on, "I think you need a reminder that you need to be more careful with your keys. You haven't been paying attention to them. You leave them around, you toss them anywhere and then can't find them when you need them."

He started spanking me hard with the leather paddle, and then he switched over to a hard plastic paddle he had procured a couple of weeks earlier. I tried to suppress the cries, but they built up in my chest like a shaken bottle of beer until they erupted in agonizing wails.

From now on you're going to keep your keys in one place at all times, do you understand?

"Yeeesssss"

"Where do you want to keep them?"

I shook my head. I couldn't think straight. I just wanted the pain to stop. I was having trouble staying still and I collapsed on the bed. He reached under me and lifted me back into place.

"You're going to hang them up on the hook behind the door from now on." WHAP! "Right?"

"Right!"

This went on for another couple of minutes and then he let me up and hugged me.

It's funny. I immediately felt better about having lost my keys, locking them in the car, leaving them in the trunk, having to replace them, the inconvenience, and the irresponsibility, and the carelessness... it was all over. Now my keys go on the hook behind the door, and with the exception of maybe a couple of days, I've been extra careful to have them there at all times. Every once in a while out of the blue he'll ask me "Sugar, where are your keys?"

"On the hook behind the door," I'll say with confidence, my head held high, and a bit of an attitude.

B'Man just smiles and winks at me.  "That's my girl."

Love Our Lurkers V

This is the 5th annual Love Our Lurkers day established by Bonnie of the famed My Bottom Smarts.  This is a day where we encourage those who have been silently lurking to come out of the shadows and make their presence known to the bloggers they read on a regular basis.  We'd all appreciate your participation, and hope that you'd be moved to introduce yourselves.  In light of this endeavor, I'd like to share one of my favorite videos that embodies the spirit of coming through the crowd to join the dance.  Enjoy, and leave a comment if you're so moved. 

This all happened in a train station in Belgium.  Wouldn't you love to have been there?



B'Man and I love our Lurkers.  Take a moment to join the dance and say hi.

SugarAnne

Antagonistic to Harmonious

Mason Cooley once said, "Antagonistic cooperation is the principle of all markets and many marriages."  I have been living in this bubble for several months since we started ttwd, understanding the benefits, and yet holding on to my own angst.  My cooperation was (and often still is) filed with a non-specific anxiety, until recently when I started to notice a change in myself.

It started to happen so subtly that I didn't even catch it at first. The habit crept into my marriage like a house guest who came for the weekend and decided to put down roots in the living room. I'm talking about my willingness to be corrected after dropping the ball on one of B'Man's spankable pet peeves. It happens quickly, cleanly, without words most of the time, and once it's over I return to my regularly scheduled programming after a word from my sponsor.

Perhaps you can relate if I describe it this way:

In the Movie The Sound of Music, Captain Von Trapp calls his children down to introduce them to Maria, the new Governess. They march in Military style, single file all the way down the stairs in perfect unison, but something is out of place. Brigitta, Played by Angela Cartwright, is conspicuously missing from the line, but comes in from another room with her nose in a book . Captain Von Trapp walks over to her, clears his throat, and she slowly lowers the book to find a mildly irritated father glaring at her. He holds his hand out and she sheepishly hands him the book, and without being asked to, turns around and slightly bends over while the Captain gives her a light swat with the book on her backside. There are no words, no arguments, no tears, no resentment, no anger, and Brigitta knows exactly what is expected of her.

This is what is happening with B'Man and myself. I noticed it last week when I was in the kitchen working on dinner, B'Man bellowed in his inimitable way that the remote was missing from the den... again. I remember grimacing for a moment as I scanned the living room with my eyes, spotted the wayward remote and raced over to retrieve it. I trotted to the den to find my captain with his hands on his hips and a glare in his eyes. I handed it to him and searched his eyes for some hint of a reprieve. There was none. I, like Brigitta, knew exactly what was expected of me, and without being prompted, turned around and bent over giving B'Man a clear target. I felt two stinging slaps to my behind with the long, flat, plastic remote, and waited until I heard him collapse on the couch and turn on the television.

It was only slightly painful, a tad embarrassing, and a bit humorous as I trotted back to the kitchen to finish peeling my eggplant.  Within seconds the incident is forgotten, put behind me, and I am laughing at some tone deaf contestent on Dont Forget the Words.  I'm beginning to fight ttwd less and less with everyday that goes by, and lately I've begun to even invoke a comfortable cooperation in the whole process. 

 

I guess the antagonism is being burned off to reveal a harmonious gold underneath.  Don't get me wrong, I've still got a bit of a disobedient fight in me, but I'm learning how to pick my battles.  And strangely enough, there seem to be fewer of them.

Bottle or Paddle Battle

He's been watching my condition deteriorate for the past couple of years. Even though I work out vigorously and lead a fairly normal and healthy lifestyle, he all too often notices those times when I am in pain, and he's not fooled by my attempts to try to hide it from him, or shrug it off as though it's nothing. I'll get up from a seated position and my face will contort in a painful wince, and for about 30 seconds, I'll begin to walk as though I were an 80-year-old woman with my back hunched over and my knees locked together until I can straighten up. These are the times when I have neglected to take my medication prescribed by my rheumatologist to alleviate pain and increase range of motion.

The most profound side affect of my medication is drowsiness, but if I take them before bed, I am relatively pain free for most of the following day. That's if I remember. I admit I have a habit of forgetting them, or procrastinating until it's too late (like at 4:00 am). BabyMan has done his best to remind me and encourage me to take my meds more seriously and diligently... to no avail. I am foolishly hopeless and hopelessly foolish as I never seem to put my medication high on my list of priorities.

This evening was the last straw. BabyMan had reached the end of his patience. We both knew the bottle was almost empty, and I had put off refilling my prescription as I had been down to my very last pill for a while. That little capsule has been bouncing around inside of that big red bottle like a bebe in a box car for days as I have been putting off my errand... not out of wilful disobedience, or a lack of desire to feel better, but simply out of forgetfulness, misplacing the bottle, and general inconvenience when I did remember. I had been substituting the pill with the over the counter Aleve for days, and it was obviously not doing it's job... because BabyMan was noticing the stiffness in my walk and the pain on my face.

So this evening we both sat in the den watching television, he sprawled out on the couch, and me at the computer. It had gotten dark and I was fighting to stay awake to watch the end of Law and Order. BabyMan notice me nodding in and out, and asked "Did you take your pill tonight?"

"Uh... no, not yet."

"Go take it now."

"Okay... when this is over."

"No. Go take it right now. You'll forget and crawl into bed when this is over."

I sighed and looked around the room as I tried to remember where I had left it, and indeed, when I even last had it.

"Do you even know where it is?"

"Um..." I was sleepy. We had eaten a couple hours earlier, and I wanted to lay down more than anything.

"Well?"

"I don't know where it is, but I think it's empty anyway." I knew there was one left in there, but I didn't want to go searching for it.

"You think?"

"Yeah, it's empty," I said with a more definite resolve.

"Go find the bottle."

"What for? It's empty." The lie was sounding more believable even to myself.

"Bring the bottle to me."

Damn! he wasn't going to let this go. I could tell another lie to cover my last lie by telling him that I threw it away... and for a split second I considered it just to get out of this. But I knew better. I rose from the computer chair, winced at the pain in my hips, and slowly dragged my feet out of the room to my bedroom dresser to look for the bottle. It wasn't there, and now I was irritated that he was sending me on a wild goose chase when all I wanted to do was sleep. I marched back in the den and sat back down defiantly. "Screw it, I can't find it, I'll find it tomorrow." I announced.

"You can't find the bottle... then go get the paddle," he said as he sat up and placed a pillow on the floor between his legs, a position I was all too familiar with.

"Oh, you gotta be kidding me!"

"The bottle or the paddle. What's it gonna be?"

I decided it sure as hell wasn't going to be the paddle. I stood up and went into the front room to look for the bottle. The kitchen, the living room, the dining room table... It was nowhere.

When I returned to the den, I whined like a tired 3-year-old. "I can't find it!"

"Then get the paddle," he said again. He was beginning to sound like a broken record.

No way! I went to the bathroom, and then to the bathroom in the master bedroom. It had to be here somewhere. Dammit, why can't I remember?

There was clearly no way out of this. I decided to simply get this over with as it was the only way I was ever going to get any sleep. I went to the bedroom and grabbed the paddle from the hook on the wall, went back to the den and roughly shoved it at him. Tears of exhaustion and humiliation gathered at the corners of my eyes as I knelt on the pillow between his feet. He lifted my chin with his finger and told me to lower my sweat pants.

"You need to take your medication more seriously," he said quietly. "You need to know where it is at all times and you need to take it consistently."

I suppressed the need to yawn and I nodded my head.

"You've been in pain way too often, and when I tell you to take your medication, you don't do it and lie to me about it."

"I don't lie," I lied.

"Really? Did you take it last night when I reminded you?"

"Yeah. I think so."

"You think so? Either you did or you didn't."

"I... I couldn't find it last night."

"So that was a lie."

I didn't answer. he guided me over his left knee and I grabbed the throw pillow and buried my face.

"We're going to refill that prescription tomorrow, and you're going to keep it in one place so that you can always find it. Understand?"

"Yes."

He started spanking me with the paddle, softly at first, and then it got harder as he continues to talk. "And when I tell you to take your pill, you're going to take it immediately, and not put it off until you're too tired and you forget."

My bottom was beginning to sting and I sobbed quietly as I fought to remain still.

"Now, where are you going to keep your bottle from now on?"

I lifted my face out of the pillow and shrugged my shoulders.

"Pick a place. Now." WHAP!

"Ow! Um... okay... the copper platter on the kitchen counter."

"Good place. I'll keep my meds there too, so we'll both remember. We'll support each other, okay?"

"Okay," I said as I put my face back in the pillow and cried some more as he finished off the spanking with some well placed strikes to my sit spot.

When he was done, he lifted me up, handed me the paddle, and I staggered off top the bedroom where I replaced it on the wall and collapsed on the bed falling asleep without undressing. 

I never could win these little battles of the wills.  But for some reason, I keep trying every once in a while.