Chasing Me Chasing You

An uncollared submissive struggling through depression, motherhood, and the constant craving of her next orgasm.

Just the way it was

Having two kids is hard. They sap your energy like a mosquito sucks blood. Don’t get me wrong, I love them more than anything, but when the house is a mess and Sir expects dinner on the table when he gets home, it’s difficult.

When the baby turned one in August I expected things to get better. I figured sleep would improve and I would have more energy. But nothing changed. And my exhaustion quickly turned itself to guilt. Other woman always looked so put together. You see them at the grocery store, the doctor’s office, always dressed nice and calm. They run around with their three course dinners, their endless kids crafts, and their spotless homes. I was lucky if I could keep from trying to put on my four year old’s socks. What was I missing? Why couldn’t I juggle my kids with science experiments and homemade granola?

I thought that was just the way it was. I was a mother of two, therefore it was expected that I would always be exhausted. No matter that I was hardly thirty. Eventually I just could not stand it anymore. I thought that the diet and exercise would help, but if anything it made it worse. The doctor ran several tests. The day I went in to find out the results of my thyroid test I was so nervous. I wanted it to be my thyroid. I just wanted to know what was wrong with me. But my thyroid was fine. I was crushed. I just wanted to feel better. I never thought I would cry about something being healthy, but I did. I sat in his office and balled my eyes out because I just didn’t have the energy. After seeing how upset and tired I was the doctor had one last idea. And luckily for me it panned out.

I have a severe B12 deficiency. Apparently since my second pregnancy my body can no longer absorb the vitamin through food. I guess a healthy person should have a score of  over 1000 and mine was under 200. I had to have weekly shots and now I go once a month for an injection. It seems that B12 effects a number of things including your sleep, energy, depression, and digestive system.

It is amazing. It’s like an espresso that lasts a whole month. I got my shot yesterday and I will have the energy to pretend like I have my shit together for awhile. Seriously though, it was an amazing feeling to know that this is what people are supposed to feel like. To have energy and be able to sleep. It’s wonderful to not need a nap after I do the dishes. I am still on depression meds for the time being, but my dose is the smallest possible and once I really get a handle on this the doctor wants to try and take me off them completely. I would never have thought that depression could be so affected by a vitamin.

And even more interesting is how many people I have met that have this problem. Many after having children, some without. The nurse that gives me the shots gets them herself, and my tattoo artist has started them as well. So now I not only don’t feel guilty for being a lazy mom, but I don’t feel bad about taking meds to make it better. And I certainly don’t feel bad how I can actually get through my list of chores and still have the energy to beg to be fucked each night.

Basket of Options

Basket of kid-friendly snacks

Parenting has several similarities to BDSM. Control, punishment, and reward are constant factors. While I still always feel like a submissive, I have to play the dominant when it comes to dealing with the kids. And while the dog can give me her puppy eyes and talk me into anything, the children have no such luck. I would be a hard-ass of a dom when it comes to rules. I’m not a dom though, luckily for them, and I try to be a good mom.

So pictured above is our snack basket. My four year old is pretty picky, and I anything I can do to make sure he gets enough to eat I’ll do. So I created this snack basket when he was three and the 18 month old picked up on it quickly as well. It’s on the bottom shelf of our kitchen island, so both boys can reach it. And they can have anything out of the basket at just about any time of the day (no fruit snacks for breakfast, trust me, they’ve asked). Pretty much everything is fruit centered, there are applesauce squeezes, fruit snacks, or granola. It’s all low sugar and easy finger food. I have fresh fruit too, but they have to ask for that as it can be messy. I don’t mind them grabbing a healthy snack, and it keeps me from having to argue about sugary snacks. Give them two healthy options and they are happy to ignore the unhealthy one they cannot see (I may have a hidden stash of pop tarts for when I’ve had a bad day).

And I think if I were ever to become a dominant, I would run my submissives the same way. Maybe even have a toy basket. Giving a sub two good options empowers them to make decisions without them worrying about making the wrong one. It’s like when Sir gives me the order to choose which implement to be spanked with. No matter if I chose the belt or one of his pretty paddles, he can’t lose. Either way I feel like I pleased him. Just like what I try and do with the kids, no matter what they pull out of the basket, it’s a good decision. I would probably run my subs/slaves the same way. Options for meals, their daily activities, maybe even their punishments. Think of the mind fuck that would be choosing between two equally bad punishments. There is probably a good reason I’m not a dom, I’d be ruthless.

On second thought, I would probably treat my subs like I treat my dog. I would spoil them and they would get away with everything.

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I mean, how can you say no to that face?

The month of reflection

December 1st. My christmas decorations are up at the rental. Tomorrow I will take the decorations to the new house so we can be festive there too. We are meeting with the contractor tomorrow to look at her design for the kitchen and laundry room remodel. Should be an interesting meeting, full of scary numbers and realities. Sir and my mom will be there too. As stressful as it will be to think about the cost, it will mean a nice lunch out and I get to start painting  walls.

Christmas shopping is almost done. A few stocking stuffers left for the boys, but everything else is sorted. This time of year is one of those periods where I look back and reflect on how good things are. Two years ago I wasn’t sure we would have the money to give our son a good Christmas. This year we have a new home and Sir and I are closer than we were when we got married. That’s massive. As stressed as I am about a job and what the next year will bring, this year has been pretty fantastic.

Looking forward to this month of family. Giving the boys their own rooms and putting my hands to work making our house a home.

And now I’m going to start sorting through all my holiday recipes for the great cookie exchange next week. Can’t wait to read everyone’s yummy food ideas.

The Parental Code

So last night I called upon the parental code. I know, I know, it’s not very slavey, but sometimes higher statues take precedent.

I was giving Sir a lovely Doxy show. It’s one of my new favorite ways to cum. Show him the pleasure he allows me to have. So I’m wriggling in perfect joy on his bed. He loves it when I beg to cum, but he also knows that I can only take so much from the Doxy before I get all nervy. Hopefully my clit will acclimate over time to the power that the vibrator provides. But for now, after one or two orgasms my nerves turn to jelly and everything starts to hurt. Sometimes that’s his goal, but rarely.

So anyway, I’m begging. After a long weekend of work, I really wanted an orgasm, so there was no play acting in my pleas. Finally, his generosity won out and I was allowed my release. I wasn’t going to waste this opportunity, especially as my orgasms seem to be further and farther between. (Not complaining, just a reality).

I’m moaning and sinking deep into the bed as my orgasm releases all those lovely hormones into my body. Then, as I hit that really good part, where moans almost flow out of you without effort, there was a small voice outside our door. In an instant Sir threw the large duvet over my body and intercepted our 4-year old before he came in the room. I wasn’t even thinking; I was coming down to the relaxed afterglow before I knew what was happening.

Sir came back in the room a few moments later and we laughed, referencing the unwritten parental code. If one person is having an orgasm and a child is nearing, it’s the other parent’s job to respond and move said child away so the other can experience their orgasm without interruption. Ruined orgasms are sexy when your partner initiates them, not so when your children are the cause. And, at least for us, our D/s dynamic is not relevant when it comes to this rule. If Sir has given me permission to cum, then the rule in enforced. And he’s really good about it, not that it happens very often. We usually try our best to make sure they are both asleep before we engage in any type of play at night. But when he wants to use me during the day things can be more complicated.

The levels of protocol continue to grow. But this rule, out of respect of each other and an understanding of our parental duties, remains. Because, let’s face it, your kids don’t need to see that.

Naked

I think I’ve slept naked since I was twelve or thirteen. I’m not sure why. I’m actually a cold-blooded person. I have low blood pressure, so I am always cold. You would think I would sleep in flannel year round. I have to have a blanket, even in the summer, but clothes are just too tight. I don’t do hospital corners on my sheets either. In fact, I joined the English tradition of not using a sheet and all and sticking with a cosy duvet. Now I hate top sheets.

And I guess I would classify myself as an exhibitionist. I love walking around naked. If it’s warm enough I used to stay naked all day. As much as I have body image issues, I guess being naked was never really part of that.

When we have family over I will wear underwear and a t-shirt, same if we are staying with someone else. As much as I like being naked, I’m not all about scaring my family. But if it’s just us, even if I’m on the floor, I’m most comfortable nude. I would love to say that I do it so Sir has easy access whenever he wants. And that is a nice bonus. But as I started losing clothes long before I met him, I can’t give him all the credit.

And I’m a complete hypocrite about it. My 4yo is all about running around naked and can strip very quickly given the chance. Even the 15mo old is learning new skills. I picked him up at daycare the other day and he was waddling around in just a diaper. The ladies were laughing and said they wanted me to see how ‘talented’ he was. I guess I should have at least acted surprised. But I always tell the kids that they need to stay dressed. They have to wear pajamas and they can’t come downstairs in the morning without clothes on, even on the weekends. I know, I’m cruel.

But naked, curled up under a blanket with coffee and a book is my happy place. *cough* I mean….kneeling at my masters feet is my happy place.

Obviously.

A swift kick

Monday is going to be my swift kick in the ass to get up and going. I am getting lonely at this little pity party and honestly, I just don’t have time for it.

I let little things get to me. They used to put me into depressive slumps that would last for days. Now, with the meds, I have made progress and I can pull myself out of the dips after a good night sleep and some good coffee. Last night, however, was not a good night sleep. With Sir gone the 4yo and the dog slept with me. And the baby’s cough came back last night and kept me up listening. He’s a healthy kid, it’s not like he’s going to stop breathing or anything, but that doesn’t mean I don’t lay there in a mom panic.

But, tired or not, I have to let crap go. Sir will be home tonight, so that will sort out the piece of me that is missing him. I worry about the blog, whether you guys are bored with me. When my stats go down I fret about what I am writing and what I need to change. So, sorry, but I can’t worry about that either. I just have to write what I write. This blog wasn’t really about getting a J.K. Rowling writing deal (I’m not that diluted). This is my journey, which I will be the first to admit isn’t always entertaining. But every day can’t be filled with hours of beatings and rough sex when you have young children. Maybe after a few more years of practice we’ll get a sexier rhythm down.

So, today is about letting it go and focusing on this week. The house may close as early as Friday. So I’m racing to line up survey companies and see about getting fence quotes. We really want to have a fence in before the ground freezes. If we are going to be working on renovations over the weekends, our dog and dad’s dog need to be able to go outside safely. And, I have my paid work to do too. I can’t get behind on that as we start this renovation process or I will never catch up. Oh yeah, and the boys destroyed my lovely clean house over the weekend, so I will have to work on that in my free time.

And, because that’s not enough, this weekend Sir let me sew. It’s an addictive hobby. I’m working on a baby size quilt. He let me work on the piecing on Saturday and now all I want to do is keep working on it. It’s so relaxing. So I may try to squeeze in some sewing in the next few days. I would love to have it ready for quilting so I can take it around during the holidays. It’s nice when people want to sit and visit to have something to do. And groping Sir isn’t always appropriate around family (or so I’ve been told).

Need more coffee. My day just got really busy really fast.

Two sides to every story

Every story of a fight that is. Each person has their version of events; their own hurts and grievances. There is probably a justified wrong party, at least at the beginning. But eventually, after enough yelling and mudslinging, everyone is at fault. It’s just a mess of confusion and just about everything you say is misinterpreted.

That is not to say that fights don’t sometimes lead to positive results. Sometimes yelling your feelings out is the best way to clarify them. And all the misunderstandings usually come out as each person tries to make their case.

I’ve found this to be difficult as a sub/slave. Sir and I have arguments about non-kinky things like the kids or housing decisions. So I have to find a way to stay respectful, but still fight for what I want regarding those topics. He respects that, slave or not, I still have to live in whatever house he chooses and right now I spend more time with the kids. There are still several aspects of our lives that (at least for now) I need a say in. But that doesn’t mean that I can yell or be bratty. Not something that I have perfected yet.

I also have to keep Sir’s whims in mind. If we get into a heated debate about something, he can quickly decide that a comment or gesture is taken too far. And backtracking, even if I stand by my opinion, is always recommended. It’s a hard line to follow. I’m sure, over time, we’ll find a better way to deal with these situations. Of course, I guess he could just tell me what we are going to do and not give me any sort of say. With the kids so young though, I don’t know that he wants all that on his shoulders just yet.

Besides, I think part of him still likes it when we argue for awhile. There is no cure for sexual tension quite like make up sex.

Wicked Wednesday... a place to be wickedly sexy or sexily wicked

All the family day

So today is quite the family day. The local zoo does a Boo at the Zoo event. It’s a nice way to trick or treat with little kids. They can run around and get a few pieces of candy (which Sir and I will end up eating). Sir’s mom is coming along for some ‘nana time’. It should be fun. Hopefully the kids won’t struggle too much with their costumes. The 4 year-old wasn’t keen on dressing up last year, but this time around he seems much more interested. The baby is just happy to be walking. And really, it’s not about the candy anyway.

After we get some lunch we are taking Sir’s mom to show her the new house. The inspection went pretty well, but we do have a radon issue. Hopefully that will be fixed without too much of a fight. There are small things we knew about already and a few we didn’t. A few windows need replaced, but they were in the kitchen remodel plan anyway. So hopefully things will keep moving forward. Looking to get the keys around Thanksgiving. I would love to get the fence in before the ground freezes, but considering how scary this winter is supposed to be, I’m not holding my breath.

Along with the mother-in-law, my parents and my mom’s sister are coming to the house too. There will be a lot of measuring and chatter with various ideas of how to do this first floor renovation. I will do a lot of before and after shots as we go. But one day at a time.

A big day with family today, but just us and the kids tomorrow. Hoping for some play time tonight, but we both might be beat, so no expectations. However, I will say that the boys have been going to sleep without too many issues lately. It has been nice to have a little more time in the evening, but we have been so tired we haven’t had a lot of hard play. Maybe we’ll eat the candy the kids get today so we can stay up tonight. Sugar rush BDSM. I’ll let you know how bad of an idea that turns out to be.

Barking Children

This week’s Wicked Wednesday topic is revisiting an old blog post. So I went about as old as I could. I found a post back in 2010 called Bad Neighbors. This was when I was blogging about Sir and my’s journey to become parents, long before we found kink and BDSM. But I was writing about my concerns in balancing two dogs with a job and housework. What a difference five years makes.

But this writing is coming back around to me as we are buying our first home. The idea that we would be seen as bad neighbors scares me. We are hoping this will be our forever home. If we make a poor impression to the neighborhood, how do we come back from that? Right now we have one dog, but Sir and I have already talked about getting a puppy. Between a new puppy and the two boys, we could be the terror of the cul-de-sac if we’re not careful. And we want to make friends. We have little kids, so as much as it would great to have a complete circle of kink friends and other parents, it may not happen. We don’t live in a big city. The BDSM community exists, but it’s not large enough to meet all of our needs socially (that’s ok). So having neighbors with children that like us and will keep an eye on our house when we are on vacation would be nice. We want to get involved in our community (BDSM and local), and having a dog that barks all the time may hinder that. Though our current dog is actually pretty mellow, it’s the boys that will ruin us.

I do love how worried I was about becoming a mom. Worried that the balance wouldn’t work. Not sure I’ve figured it out yet, if I’m honest. Two kids, a part-time job, the house; I’m certainly struggling. Getting everything done is usually based on how much coffee I can mainline in the morning. But Sir’s happy with what I can accomplish, so I’m okay with it. And the kids are healthy (the baby is actually in the 90th percentile in every category) and happy. They have tantrums like every other kid, but they aren’t maiming small animals or breaking into the liquor cabinet just yet, so I’m not really worried.

And our current neighbors don’t hate us, so I guess it’s a win. I mow the lawn so it doesn’t look awful and the dog doesn’t terrorize everyone who walks by (just those who come onto the porch). Though the standards might not be as high as they will be in our new neighborhood. The house on our left has been empty and for sale since we moved in last year and our other neighbors are hoarders. But they are hoarders who like us, so….win.

See other bloggers visits to their pasts for this weeks Wicked Wednesday.

Wicked Wednesday

It’s hip to be square

What makes a scene a scene as opposed to just kinky sex? Is it planning, length of time, or number of orgasms? If you are having a casual D/s encounter, is it automatically a scene? If you are a married couple, does kinky sex equate to a scene every time.*

It creates a square/rectangle conundrum for me. Per the definitions of the two shapes, a square is always a rectangle, but a rectangle is not always a square. So, is kinky sex always a scene, but a scene doesn’t always include sex? One can have a very memorable and satisfying scene without any sexual contact, so I think the definition could work. But, it begs the question, can you have only kinky sex in a D/s or M/s relationship and not ever have a scene?

Our M/s life right now is actually managed by our offspring overlords. So our private time in the evenings can range from none at all to three or four hours if they go to sleep without a hitch. But even those nights where we have a few hours can often be marred by lack of sleep the previous night or a pending early morning. So, our play is more about sex than elaborate bondage. It’s always kinky, in one way or another, but not anything that would necessarily require aftercare.

However, this creates an expectations problem on nights when we do have time for involved play. This weekend we are traveling for work and will have a night in a hotel. The kids are staying with grandma. With more guaranteed time and privacy we will probably get involved with more toys and extended, non-sexual play (more scene-like). Though, if I remember correctly, there is no porn at this hotel, so we may have to create our own instead. Or, that’s the thinking that often gets us into trouble. Having a nice dinner together and the opportunity for a long play session means that we feel we have to push ourselves to the limit. Rather than just enjoy each other’s company and see where the evening goes, we pack a large bag of toys and are upset if we don’t get to use each one. We put so much pressure on these rare nights together they never even have a chance to be satisfied.

I will admit, I crave scenes a lot. But, I guess for Sir and I, scenes and sex are the same right now. It is a sense of scale that may create differences. For the two of us and our relationship, sex is a major part of all our play. Even our high impact scenes have a sexual component, because…sadist. And because Sir knows they are hard for me and the more aroused I am, the more pain I can take. Seems obvious, I know, but it actually took us a while to figure that one out. Before I would get an orgasm as a reward for taking pain, but after a good beating I just wanted a cuddle and to go to sleep. Now, with a good relaxing orgasm before he pulls out the belt, I can take twice as much pain and he can use me however he likes and not have to be concerned about my enjoyment. And I know what you’re thinking, as a slave my enjoyment isn’t really necessary. But again, this comes back to our parenting situation. If we had endless amounts of time, my happiness in a scene would be irrelevant, because we could just have another in a hour. However, with our scene/sex time not guaranteed from day to day, Sir does have to keep my sanity in mind. I’m not a pleasant person after more than a few days of edging and no orgasms. Chastity is really not a kink of mine.

So right now we are square. Sex and scenes are one in the same. I’m sure once we get settled in the new house and the kids get a little older we will be able to set aside time for rectangle play without sex. For right now, our non-sexual D/s play is me cleaning the Kix off the floor on my knees. At least we make it a bit of fun by putting the leash on first.

 

*Honestly, as a married couple with two small children, being allowed to lay in bed for ten minutes without being called to some stuffed animal emergency should be classified as kinky sex.