Christmas Shopping

I'm so thrilled for Christmas this year. I can't wait to watch Haylee open her gifts. I want to give them all to her now now now!

Getting better, getting stronger

I had an ovarian cyst burst on Thursday. Pain. Pain. Pain.

I've learned a few things:

- I can trust my husband and mother to really take care of things while I simply rest, sleep, and heal. I slept about 40 hours between Thurs and Sat and the world did not fall apart.
- Pain meds aren't a huge deal, I'm not going to become an addicted monster overnight, and I can function a lot better on them than without them.
- I need to find out what's going on and get it corrected ASAP. The doctor thinks endometriosis. Scary. But... as soon as my insurance year starts I'm going to get the laproscopic surgery and find out.
- I don't have to be in the most pain in the world for my health care needs to matter. I can call the doctor before things get out of hand, get treatment before it's horrible, and otherwise put my medical needs first so that this doesn't keep happening.
- I'm not a wuss. It's not just that I can't handle the horrible cramps. A fucking cyst burst inside of me. So when I felt like my ovary had burst, I was damn close. I wasn't being overly dramatic, making a big deal out of nothing, or otherwise being a wuss.
- I can handle nausea better than I thought. As long as I know it's just going to be vomiting and it's not going to come with other-end problems, I can handle it fairly well. And sometimes throwing up really does make things feel better.
- It's okay to use the television to distract Haylee if I'm otherwise incapable of caring for her entertainment needs.

BIG Checks

I just sent out BOA Bill Pay checks for our car and the Home Depot card. It feels awesome to pay off that much debt at once. Nice.

Thank you, government, for the $8000 housewarming present. It's much appreciated.

Wonderful things

For a long, long, long time I've been trying to find someone I really sparked with. A woman that I actually looked forward to seeing with a pulse-racing kind of excitement. A woman that was more than just someone who would agree to have sex with me.

It didn't make sense to me. As a bisexual woman I love having sex with other women. But it's never been more than just finding someone who has an open mind and an open schedule. Even if I cared about the person as a friend, there weren't really sparks. This was extremely frustrating to me. I looked forward to each encounter, sure, but I was looking forward to the encounter itself rather than sharing that particular event with the person. I feel like I'm not explaining that well, but it's the best I can do for now.

Was I really bi? Was the fun I had with a woman any different than the fun I have playing racquetball or playing pool or any of the other physical activities I enjoy but rarely partake of?

A long time ago I met Kya through Mr. A. I met her again through another friend. We started hanging out a lot. We became good friends. I was attracted to her, we discussed it, but it didn't happen due to her then-partner's discomfort with the situation. I compartmentalized it and our friendship continued. Recently, within the last year, she's become very close to me and I'd have to rate her as one of my closest friends.

The conversation got brought up again and after much discussion... things happened.

Wonderful things.

And she smells so damn good!

I can't eloquently describe how amazing it is to put my hand on her chest and feel the way her heart pounds when she's excited. Or how I don't want to have anything to do with anyone but somehow I reach for the phone and dial her number...

It's wonderful. Wonderful, wonderful things have happened.

Oddly it's changed the way I see other female friends. There's no longer a component of, "hey, I wonder what she'd do if I propositioned her." I've noted that after changing the way I think there are a few people I'm not nearly as interested in hanging out with. That makes me feel like a bit of a shit, but it's definitely interesting.

Holidays

We celebrated the first Thanksgiving in our house. It was lovely. I felt like I was a downer, but everyone said it was a great Thanksgiving. I look forward to the time when every holiday is unshadowed by the death of my father. On one hand I do miss him and think that's an honorable think. On the other hand, while I want to remember all the happy holiday memories, I don't want those memories to get in the way of making new ones.

The last three weeks were a little stressful to me.

I got a performance review at work that I was really unhappy with. I would have accepted it had the language had been different. Luckily the evaluator agreed to change the language. I don't know if the change actually made it to the file or not, but I feel better.

I had a query letter accepted, wrote the article, had several people (qualified writers as well as my target audience) look over it for me, sent it off, and then waited. A month later the rejection letter came. I knew there was a strong chance I'd get rejected, and the rejection was actually positive ("with a little editorial refocusing...could be a piece of 5k or even a 32-page supplement") but it was still sucky timing-wise.

Money's been really tight.

We've been having more issues with our homeowners insurance. We got that all straightened out, hopefully for the final time as the company apologized that they did handle it wrong, and found out the agent had switched us to the other (even though we never signed the application because the info on it was wrong) and the bank had sent a check and all kinds of hoops had to be jumped through to correct it.

I've started dating an amazing woman, but we've had several emergencies come up that have precluded us to do anything we've talked about. Which I understand. It's just that timed with everything else and the feeling like this always happens (not with her, but with every female I've dated... there's always a reason why we can't do something after the first few times) is adding to the stress.

And then the holidays. Getting ready to cook for people, making sure it goes smoothly, and all that stuff.

So it's been a little stressful and I've been a little down. Hubby has been beyond supportive, as always, and I've been trying to convince myself this will pass. I don't like being so unhappy. I look back and see all the other times in my life that I've been so unhappy and can't see the times I've been up up up.

Happy Halloween (Belated)

Trick or treating was amazing. It was one of those things I fantasized about when we were trying to get pregnant. It was one of those things I was convinced I'd never be able to do. My expectations were greatly inflated... and yet they still fell short.

She was so excited to put her little fairy costume on and walk out the door. She carried her pumpkin in a tight little white-knuckled grip. Our neighbors gave her a goody bag for being part of the group that was all going together. It filled the bottom of her pumpkin. Each neighbor put far more candies in her bucket than I had expected. It was full by the start of the second street. Luckily I had put some grocery bags in my pocket.

We were the only grownups that were dressed up for most of the night. A few others wore costumes and joined us later on.

We did two streets. Our cul de sac and the other side and the next street up.

The best part was seeing how brave she was. Amazingly, wonderfully brave.

The funniest part was that she went into everyone's house. No one seemed to mind! I went in and retrieved her and apologized. Usually she was given more candy and a chuckle, sometimes even a pat on the head.

She charmed glow sticks out of everyone and ended up with at least five of them.

I'm so happy with Halloween.

Prior weekend: fall fest at Home Depot (dissapointing) and Trick or Treat at Children's Garden (interesting, but better when she's older, I think.)
Last weekend: adult party (Mad Hatter) that was a lot of fun on Friday. Trick or Treating with neighbors Saturday followed by adult party with old high school friends.

There is something amazing

I haven't seen him in about six years, but it was like it was yesterday we last went to Uno's and had pizza and giant pickles or swapped stacks of paperbacks. There's something amazing about still being completely comfortable with someone that I can just babble and not really care. I'm so grateful for friends.

In love

Our bedroom sports a small couch and a television set. There's loads of room to laugh and dance and play. The hallway connects to my daughter's room; a straight shot of parquet floor that thumps quite satisfyingly when she runs between the two. Downstairs has lots of room too. The kitchen is still disorganized, still small, but it is mine.

Outside is cleaning up quite nicely. I can't wait to plan my garden and then plant it. I looked at Better Homes and Gardens, which arrived only yesterday, and marvelled at the fall planting suggestions. I have lists of plants that show colorfully and that will lend an autumnal appearance to the place.

I still love our house. So does hubby. Even with all the things yet to be done.

I disagree, mightily

There was a recent blog post written by someone I've never met who claimed that men have never faced sexism.

Excuse me?

Men who choose to be stay-at-home parents, men who choose to work in certain fields of the healthcare industry (such as massage therapy and, previously, nursing), men who don't conform to the ideal of "masculinity"... all of these and more are victims of sexism. Men are more pegged and stereotyped than I can care to list, and yet very few every seem to see the double-standard.

Call a woman "honey" and all hell breaks loose. Suggest that she's going to have children someday and uh-oh. But make a manly joke about "all men are assholes" or something else and no eyes blink.

Whatever.

Can we all finally just admit that everyone encounters discrimination, sexism, racism, labeling, pigeon-holing, dismissal, rejection, bad breath, body odor, gas, bad days, and all the other things that we so blindly claim as our own unique experience?

Loving the new house

I love my house.

I love my house a lot!

I love my house!

Spin like a top

I'm musing on how a good friend of mine complains constantly about gender roles and advertising and common perceptions but then leaps to do exactly the opposite of whatever the perceived thing "a girl should do" is. She's concerned with the role of marketing on the psyche of most American women and yet she is more strongly affected by those ideas than any other person I've ever met. Instead of living her life so that she's happy and saying, "to hell with what anyone else thinks," she makes decisions (HUGE ones, too) on how people will perceive her or what they will expect of her in a certain role. She's so wrapped up with this feminist and equalist philosophy that she's chained to it. It's such a huge part of her identity that she must constantly remind those around her, even those who know her fairly well, that "this is who she is" lest we forget. I adore her and think she's awesome, amazing, and brilliant, but I hate seeing her be so reactionary and anxious. Grrr. I'm not sure what I can do to help her free herself of the 24/7 struggle to define and label, to weigh and measure. I don't know how to pull her into the moment with me.

*sigh*

*bigger sigh*

I'm crushing

I've got a crush! I'm totally crushing on someone. Shh! Don't tell!

(It's no one I've mentioned on this blog before.)

Today was pretty awesomely awesome

I'm enjoying getting to know some new friends. I hired one to help me do move-in cleaning. So far she's doing a pretty good job. The upstairs is almost done. The downstairs has yet to be touched, but the speed of things is about what I had expected.

I drove enough to spend an entire half-tank of gas. I spent hours in the car. Going here and there. The day started with a staff meeting. Then I dropped a full carload of stuff off. I got our sewer account lined up. (Apparently the county only provides water to our address.) I explained to the house who I was and that it would be cared for and loved. I told it that it could enjoy a small child growing up. That we'd take care of it if it would take care of us. Some might think I'm silly, but I think places have an energy about the. I think houses need to be loved.

After that I gave Evilsara the tour. I squealed with glee when she told me that she thought my house was awesome. Haylee gave me a big hug when I got home. I shoved some food into her and rushed off to go drive some more. We picked up a borrowed pressure washer and then drove some more to get a box full of deadbolts. Yesterday I got 7 gallons of Behr paint for free. I love things that let me save money without sacrificing quality. Babybit fell asleep in the back of the car and woke up when we got to the new house. I took her inside. She loves that house. She's loved it every time I've taken her there. She runs around in circles. She dances on the wooden floor. Everytime, "are you ready to go home?" "No!"

From there we went home. She was hungry and tired but wouldn't sleep. She thought she was wide awake. She assured me of this with a vibrant, "No!" when I asked her if she would finish her nap, eyelids drooping. She decided not to eat and then not to take a nap. Poor thing. It must suck to be exploring everything in the world and have to take a time out to rest. I imagine that it's similar to how I feel when I'm in the middle of a very exciting project.

Mom got home and I went back out to the house with another car load. I made about seven trips upstairs. My heart pounded quite a bit but my breathing was fine (though short) and my legs didn't complain even once. I grabbed Sara and we went to the bookstore. I treated her to coffee and brownie goodness. Then I managed to save $200 by snagging an open-box special on the dishwasher we wanted. Stainless steel inside but not outside. Yay! I dropped Sara off and headed home.

I'm really looking forward to tomorrow. Hubby is too. He's like, "I'm even looking forward to cleaning the gutters. Wow. I'm looking forward to cleaning the gutters!"

The house is ours!

Well... it's the bank's... but they're loaning it to us for the next 30 or however many years. Lol.

The "fuck" rant of doom

This is a total vent...

This is NOT FUCKING WORKING. This is BROKEN. Something NEEDS TO CHANGE.

Me: What is your biggest hope and biggest fear for the new house?
Mom: My biggest hope is that the house stays clean like a house should be clean. (Conversation to follow about definition of such as well as the stairs fear.)
Me: What are you willing to do to help with keeping it clean?
Mom, very angry: Don't go there right now. We don't need to bring this up.
Me, placatingly calm: I only ask because I asked you a similar question a few weeks ago for you to think about. I thought maybe we could discuss it. I guess not now.
Mom, very defensive: I clean up after myself wherever I go. I always have.
(A few minutes of silence.)
Mom, attempt at reason: Really, what is it you feel you need so much help with?
Me, pissed: You were right. We are not discussing this. Never mind.
Mom: Well, I'm not going to say, "everyday I'm going to do this or twice a week that."
Me: Fine.

The day had gone well. I thought lunch would be a good idea. It was fine until I had to open my big mouth. Damnit.

This is a problem. It's been a huge problem for a couple of years. It's been the one major source of stress between all of us in the house. And yet I get the impression from her actions and conversations that it's not something that she's willing to fix. But it's her number one greatest and biggest hope for the house. If that's what she's majorly looking forward to why isn't this a bigger discussion?

One of the things I tried was having a 15-minute rule. Once per day for 15 minutes every person in the house cleans. It doesn't have to be at the same time as long as it's that much effort or longer. Cleaning personal areas don't count. It's a common-area thing and the cleaning is meant to benefit the household and each other, not yourself. It worked okay for hubby and me. She didn't bother.

Another thing was a checklist or a "write down what you did today" kind of thing so we know what everyone's doing, what needs to be done, etc. She never initialed or signed off on anything.

I'm TIRED of this "I clean up after myself and hide in my room and therefore the rest of the house has nothing to do with me" bullshit.

Cleaning up after yourself is NOT enough. What about all the dust collecting? What about sweeping and mopping the floors? What about the windows? What about the stove and oven and many other things. If you only clean up the visible mess that you make you aren't cleaning up enough.

I'm not a great housekeeper. I'm trying to set up a schedule. I need to know who is going to do what. And she's not helping me.

Hubby complains she doesn't clean up after herself. She's the only one that uses the coffee maker, for example. (Hubby uses a french press.) Yet the area around the coffee maker (not close to the french press) has coffee grounds, puddles of water, and drips of coffee most days of the week. It's mostly her stuff that's crowding the area behind the sink.

And dishes? We run two loads of dishes every freaking day. She will graciously unload the morning load of dishes once every four or five days. And then she won't put the dirty dishes from the sink into the dishwasher. She leaves her chicken and french fry pan out on the stove after she's done with it.

I don't need to list every infraction. I'm not perfect; I don't expect her to be.

But this is ridiculous.

When we first moved in, for about a year, she felt like she was the, "chief cook and bottle washer." I didn't help enough so instead of talking to me about it, instead of pointing out the things that need to get done, instead of whatever she QUIT. She even admits this. Then I started helping more so she would help but after a few months she noticed the more she did the less I did. So she quit quit. And hasn't unquit in the remainder of the four years we've lived together.

Does that mean I get to do everything for a year and not ever have to do anything but clean up after myself again? That would be fantastic. Where do I sign up.

I'm so freaking mad.

I was shaking on the way home. It was an effort not to cry. And now... most of the anger has passed and I feel really down. I feel downright depressed. I don't know how to fix this. I don't know how to make this work. I've tried and tried and here we have this fantastic opportunity at the new house and I'm really trying to figure out a way to keep the new house spotless and I neeeeed help with this.

So I think I've decided that I'm going to do what I'm going to do and the two of them can duke it out for the rest. I'll have a list of my chores and that's what I'm responsible for. If the house isn't clean enough then she needs to add her name under something and do it more often. I cannot do this.

Her friend (Ohhhh I did not blog about this... I need to) decided to corner me while we were looking at the house before our contract was accepted and gave me the riot act. She essentially pulled a one-woman intervention. The house is my responsibility and it's my job and my hubby works all day and this and that... she even said my business was a HOBBY and that "you don't pull out the laptop until you've mopped the floors. You have to mop these floors every day. And you don't get out your scrapbooking stuff until all your chores are done. Those things you do for fun. They are NOT every day activities."

I don't understand one thing. My mother is retired. She sits and plays on the computer or watches television most of the time. She goes out to lunch with her friends and goes to bluegrass and sign language class. She plays cards with her friends that their houses and most evenings goes to another friend's house to hang out.

I have a business (not a hobby), a part time job at the school (albeit not at the moment as I'm between classes), a daughter that I watch from 7:15 AM to 6:05 PM Monday thru Friday, I do all the grocery shopping, I pay all the bills and do all the finances (budgeting, investing, etc.), I handle all our social arrangements.

Yet I'm the sole person in the house who is responsible for everything.

What the fuck?

Seriously? Me? Everything? Every fucking thing?

Fucking grr.

I guess that's enough of a rant. I'm going to defiantly sit on my ass and watch True Blood and then pack a few boxes. All I have left to say is that it will be OUR house. Mine and hubby's. And if she wants to stay with us (and there is very little choice on the matter) then she will contribute to the house and knock this shit off.

Project Complete... at least my part

I finally teamed up with an illustrator to finish getting my children's book ready for submission. My part (the writing) is done and she's coming over tomorrow to work on some concepts and sketches. I'm so proud of myself for finishing something and so excited to see what comes out of her brain. Will it ever be published? Maybe, maybe not. The point is that I finished a book I was working on. *happy dance*

Um, yeah. Lights are nice. (Warning: TMI post!)

There is nothing I prefer over the feeling of a hand warming my bum. Total and complete yummy. I rarely have ever had a nice long spanking that was long enough for me to really feel sated by it. Because hubby has developed RA and often has horrible joint pain in his hands and wrists, however, it's not something that's easy to do for him anymore. (Anyone want to volunteer to stand in for him? Let me know.)

A few months ago I decided that I couldn't stand it anymore and I NEEDED some sort of spanking. So I brought out the wooden dowel rods we had bought as supplements and pretty much demanded one. Hubby obliged.

There are a few things I've noticed about this type of punishment.

I did not attain subspace the same way that I normally do. When I'm being spanked bare-handed it's a nice, floaty, gradual, and eventually overwhelming experience. I can relax within that space for a very long time and my mind shuts off. It's the main reason why I'm a fan of spankings. With this, however, I was in the "ow ow ow ow" space and didn't think I had gotten spacey until I got the giggles. Oh yes, I giggled.

Hubby was very open to feedback about his technique since we've rarely used anything other than a hand (on me) in a long time. (I tend to use floggers on him.) We got to the point where I was ready to ask for more but I was also ready to be thoroughly and completely scrumped stupid. So we got Mr. Buzzy out, turned me on my stomach, and I got it until I climaxed. (Which, on my tummy, is not an easy thing!)

After amazing sex I got up for my post-scrump pee and looked in the mirror. I so love to watch a woman's buttocks turn a nice deep shade of pink and eventually red. (Gush!) I wanted to see mine.

Pink? Nope.

Red? Nope.

Magenta? Nope.

Plaid? Not even.

Try purple and black and blue. And raised and lumpy. Holy freaking cow.

Now, I know that the light in our bedroom is not good. And I KNOW better. But since I was the bottom I wasn't thinking so much of safety concerns as much as, "yes yes yes finally wheeee spanking please please please" and then "ow ow ow please don't stop yes yes yes". I do take a large part of the blame. I'm more experienced than my partner. I also shouldn't have pushed for so much time (and Gods, I was ready to beg for more even so) when I knew I wasn't sure how I would react to the implement.

But it was like craving chocolate ice cream after a year of not having any and eating a pint and getting sick to my tummy. I knew it would be a stupid thing to do but didn't really consciously admit it.

We put ice on my bum for about a half hour immediately following the discovery. Hubby cuddled with me. I was actually gleeful about it. My first really bad set of bruises! And it still wasn't as bad as some hardcore vids I've seen! I iced again before bed and took some ibuprofen and arnica.

The next day the lump was completely gone but the bottom was still purple and black.

I went to the gym anyway.

It was so amazingly sexy to know how appalled and (probably secretly thrilled and) disgusted most of the patrons would feel if I mooned them. And every step I took dragged the fabric of my pants across the bruise in such a way that it reminded me of the previous evening. I was moist all day.

YUMMY.

Unfortunately I have yet to receive my birthday spanking... I think hubby is feeling a bit timid and even so what I really want is something that he can't give me until the meds he's just started on are in his system more. *sighs*

Black Jewels

My current favorite author/series is Anne Bishop's Black Jewels series. Love love love it.

Hubby and I spent most of our morning talking about how we could translate this into our own personal and private version of Munchkin. Ms. Bishop is very clear on her website that she does permit people to make MUDS/RPGs/fan fiction/etc. from her games due to copyright issues. So this is something that we'll keep pretty quiet and probably only break out when friends who love the series come over. So far we've got about 60 cards. I can't wait to finalize them and get them printed up.

I also think it would be awesome to do a version based on Wheel of Time and Harry Potter.

I'm realizing that having a genre-based game makes it a lot easier and encompasses more possible fans. However, since it's just for us, and Steve Jackson Games is clearly not looking for suggestions, there's no reason why I need to worry about that. Right?

Hehe. I really needed a non-photography, non-house-based, non-business project to obsess over.

Officially 29

Well, it's happened. My long-awaited birthday celebration has come and gone.

Friday was pretty good. And since it was my actual birthday, that's really saying something. My photography mentor bought me coffee and then lunch. Yummy sushi! Mmm. I spent a few hours at home with mom and then the three of us met up with hubby at Troyer's for my family birthday dinner. Mom treated us. I think their food has degraded in quality slightly from what I remember. Hubby gave me my second birthday present. I knew it was Munchkin, but I wasn't sure which one. It's regular ol' Munchkin. We played a few two-player games and really enjoyed it.

Saturday I slept in. For some reason sleeping really late doesn't do much for me anymore. 10:30 felt like I had wasted most of the day. I'm so used to getting up between 7:30 and 8:30 now. (Hubby is probably reading this thinking he'd consider 7:30 to be sleeping late!) We hit a garage sale thing that was only kid's stuff and got some good deals. Story came over earlier than she had meant too and I had a good time watching her go through my closet.

We all headed to JoTos for supper. There are six of us that have pretty much made it a tradition to go there for our birthdays. We had a reservation so it only took about 75 minutes from walking in the door to walking out. I had some amazing plum wine. It was rich and buttery. And $3.50 for maybe two ounces. Hubby had sushi and mismarked "Mexican" instead of "Tampa" which was right above it. I spent most of the time worrying about whether an epi-pen would be required. Everyone at the table enjoyed the unexpected sushi, however, since he shared what he couldn't eat with our friends.

The table across from us emptied and was reseated about a third of the way through our meal. We were talking about Munchkin and all sorts of other games when I noticed that they were pretty much staring at us. No talking amongst themselves; they were being entertained by us. At that point our topic shifted to diamonds made from dead people and then to the very morbid--yet fun--discussion of the distribution of Story's bones after she dies. At that point I noticed the other table got quite flustered and started attempting conversation. I guess we can take credit for giving them something to talk about later on, yes? Hehe.

We played Munchkin at my house afterwards. It's very slow with many seven to nine people. I think I enjoy 4-5 people better. 2 is fun, but it's hard to be cutthroat. 3 is okay but one person feels ganged up on most of the time. We had three new players but they seemed to enjoy it.

That's pretty much it in a nut shell. I was hoping for some naughtiness or perhaps an after-after party, but alas, not this year.

Things that were way better this year than previous years:
- I got several phone calls, cards, and such ON my birthday. A few years everyone has called on the day of my party by mistake or instead. This does make a difference to me.
- I didn't step in cat puke that everyone knew was there but didn't think to tell me about.
- No one brought an uninvited guest like the year one was brought and proceeded to monopolize the girl that I had invited because I was interested in her.
- NO HURRICANES!!!
- While not having my father be alive sucks, the year that we knew something was wrong but he wasn't diagnosed yet (not for another week or so after my birthday), was really hard too.
- It wasn't awkward with an afterparty that didn't happen (but was planned) because I was too self conscious about kicking people out when I was ready for them to leave. That year was so funny because I was very obvious about my "polite" hints but no one left and everyone stayed way too late and my playmates had to go home to the babysitter.
- I've finally learned (I think) what board/card games are fun for a group and which are just an excuse to pass awkward time.
- Not only did seasoned friends come, a few new friends came as well. This made me feel all warm and fuzzy. Seven people in total took time to come out to supper and/or to the game.
- It's the first year in a long long long time that A (of B&A) managed to get away from the kids, and work, and such to come to a birthday party! Yay!

So all in all I'm pretty pleased.

Feels like daddy

My father had this amazing energy around him and I noticed it most strongly when he'd hug me. It was this feeling of complete acceptance. It was warm and protective and said, "I'll always pick your side, kiddo." I associate this feeling with him so strongly that a few weeks ago I was just about knocked over when I realized that hubby has that same feeling about him. I told him today. It was as we were in the kissy-touchy process of a s-nap. (Sex and a nap.)

"This is going to come out completely weird, especially considering what we're doing but..."

After I clarified what I meant I think he was really touched. I enjoy having that feeling in my life again. I know hubby's felt like that about me for years, but for some reason it's really developed more strongly lately.

So our Sunday afternoon romp turned into something that was much closer to making love than usual. It was nice. We showered together and then took a very brief nap. Little bit woke up from hers. I collected her and--after tucking the sheet up around his naked waist--put her on the bed. It was so sweet. I think she picked up on the lovey-dovey feeling in the room because she was all, "blah blah blah daddy daddy blah daddy love you daddy daddy mmmmuah!" Lots of kisses and hugs for both of us. It was wonderful.

*contented sigh*

Rule Change

I've been watching a Netflix-available television show called Swingtown. It's set in the 1970's and focuses, as you might guess, on couples who are swingers. The nice thing about the show is that the sex is a background element. The characters drive the show. One of the things that has truly interested me is the way that they set their rules, the way that people come together, what kind of conversations are had, and so forth.

We have a very long list of rules. They're all quite reasonable. However, recently I've felt that they are very limiting.

I tend to tangle things up in my head. I make them into this compact little ball of "what ifs" and "I really shoulds". I host conversations between a variety of people in my head; most of them devolve into arguments. Many people, those who are uber-political or religious, may think I have no morals or ethics. The truth is that I am a very ethical person. So when I agree to a set of rules or boundaries, I do my best to act within them, even if I lose out on some really sweet opportunities.

We had a conversation the other night about rules. If the rules of a game make the game almost impossible to play, then what is at fault? The rules or the game?

It was interesting to hear his interpretation of the rules after so many years. Polyamory hasn't been something we've had a lot of time to explore. We live as an extended-family unit. We have a small child. There are complications. Many months have passed since we've had any opportunity or reason to review what's important to us.

We renegotiated and are going to try out an abridged set of rules for the meanwhile. If either of us gets uncomfortable we'll go back and review.

Part of that really excites me.

Back in the early 00's, we were having a lot of fun on a fairly regular basis. I had a boyfriend or two, he had a girlfriend or two, we knew a few fun couples, and often indulged in our child-free lifestyle. It was great. But, because we were new to each other, new to our marriage, and many of the individual situations that came up were new to us, we didn't necessarily communicate well. There were a few occasions when hubby felt like he was playing second fiddle. I was having more sex with Mr. A than with him. I'd often leave the room, sweat-soaked and flushed and sated, only to feel put-upon and obligated when he'd want to have sex with me too. (Sex as an obligation does NOT fly well with me.)

The "part of that" that "really excites me" is that we've come so far. These days we communicate very easily (we always have; now we've just had more practice with certain topics) and are much more willing to see things from each other's view points. We've had a chance to get to know each other again as sexual beings after my long pregnancy (we had sex twice the whole time). We've gotten to know each other for the first time as parents. It's wonderful.

So some of the rules are relaxed. For example: We no longer need to meet the other's person's intended beforehand. If he has an opportunity then he can call and make sure it's okay. I trust his judgment and know he wouldn't want to sleep with someone just to sleep with someone, you know? We also no longer have to sit down as a group to discuss the rules. We can get permission before an evening if there's a chance rather than waiting until "that part" of the evening to call. Things like that.

We had this conversation before a recent party. I was invited because I have boobies; he stayed home with the kiddo. It was a last-minute thrown-together girl's night and I was glad to get out of the house. One of my buddies was there and I flirted like crazy. I'm not sure that's ever going anywhere, but I know that prior to the rule change I wouldn't have been as physical, subtle though it was. It made me feel really giddy and sassy and remarkably feminine and sexy and powerful.

I'm not sure where this new freedom will lead, but I look forward to finding out.

All I want for my birthday...

Is to know when our frickin closing date will be. I still have no date or time. We should have closed this Monday. Then it was going to be today. Then it was Monday. Now we're into the $100/day realm of Aug 17th and later. Damnit. I'm not going to worry about it this weekend. It's my birthday weekend. Aside from being surrounded by boxes I'm not going to think about buying a house for the next few days. *sighs*

I mourn the things...

The "cool kids" that I've been crushing on lately are all into things that I used to do. Things I loved very much.

Yet these same things, at the time, made me an outsider. They weren't cool then.

But now I'm so far removed from them that would feel like I'm "trying" to be cool if I indulged too much.

Still no closing date

Waiting... waiting... waiting... not so patiently.

Ten years from now will I remember this? Will I remember sitting here, waiting to make plans for the rest of the week--and my birthday--and  holding my breath, praying that nothing will fall through? Well, I've blogged about it, so probably. Lol.

C'mon house!

Seven years

Today marks the seventh wedding anniversary that hubby and I have shared.

Marrying him was the best choice I have ever made. Through him I have found acceptance, unconditional love, and a partner that matches me in many ways. I have been blessed with a daughter. I spend my days looking forward to his arrival home. I spend my nights sleeping better because I know he'll hold me if I have a bad dream. He spends his days working hard so that I can stay at home and raise our daughter. I love them both so much.

Never to be

Why do some relationships fizzle? Why do some disappear and then transform into a wholly different animal? Why do some completely fade while others stay shiny and bright?

I've learned that most of my friendships are transient. Oddly, I've accepted this. It's something that I have fought for years and years. If my friends don't like me anymore, it must be personal, right? Yet I've considered all the people I've known and drifted apart from and rarely was it a personal choice. Tastes change, people get busy, and we drift. I've become okay with this. I've actually learned to expect this.

I kept telling Jen for years to enjoy what she has when she has it rather than wondering how long it will last. It's not advice that I had applied. Well, I thought I had. In some respects I guess it wasn't an authentic thing because I knew that hubby wasn't going to leave. I knew I had what I had and that what I had would last.

I've applied that advice, finally. I now have enjoyed people for who they are in the moment. I've accepted that people can change (not always better or worse; just different) and have learned to see what my part in that play is. Can I help plant seeds to help them find out what they really want? Can I help to guide them in some way? Can I live by example, following my own desires and dreams and improving my life piece by piece?

Ohh... renovating my life... I like that. And as an almost home-owner it's so appropriate to my way of thinking lately. In renovation you try to focus on the things that will make the overall home better. It's not often a big project. Sometimes simply changing out the hardware in the kitchen can give a whole new look. I've learned, also, that highlighting the focal point of a room can make all the different. Recently a class I took suggested to work on your strengths and accept your weaknesses. Why spend hours and hours trying to get better at something you are miserable doing and horrible in that doing? A shorter amount of time can add far more polish to a strength which, likely, is something you enjoy.

How can I help the people I love polish their own lives?

Hmm.

Another post with slippery focus, but that's okay. It's still my blog. (*grin*)

New Friends

When I was in elementary school people my own age tormented me each day. Buck teeth, four-eyes, lizard lips... I can still hear them.

In middle school some of it became physical. I moved to a new school in a new state. I didn't know the slang. I didn't know the groups. What was a "pop" or a "prep" or a "banger" or a "wigger"? The teasing worsened. My outside shows a few scars and bumps. Most of the evidence is invisible, etched on my soul instead.

In high school I found that the kids were too flightly. Their teasing bothered me less. I was above them. They were worried about stupid things. I was working and learning and trying to get out as soon as I could. And, I did. I graduated early with money in my pocket. My friends were all older.

In college I learned that art school students are amazing and awesome. I found acceptance and friends, most of which I made easily. Most of my friends were still older. Very few were 18 and 19 like I was. The friends I met outside class all had at least five years on me. The degree program moved quickly and I had graduated in half the time it would normally take.

Then I moved home. My choice of friends went back to what was comfortable. I was surrounded by older people at work. Kids my own age were still in college. I wasn't concerned with boyfriends and fashion trends and the lastest Blockbuster releases. I was getting married and changing careers.

It's been years since I've explored the idea that people my own age (with a few exceptions, mostly a few friends that put up with me, I mean kept in touch with me after high school) might have something in common with me, might be cool, might make me laugh. Yes, I'm a snob. I realize it.

But recently... recently I've found that people my own age have finally made it. They've grown up. They've become individuals with interests that are genuine and not a frantic scrambling to find an "identity". They're growing comfortable in their own skin. A friend introduced me to a new circle of people and I've been happier lately because of it. Game nights, movie nights, and general frivolity have abounded. I'm finding the interests I had ten years ago have become popular (role playing, cons, etc.) and I can talk the language with these people. Video games, board games, guys, girls, sexuality... all topics have been open. I've found that one-on-one my conversations have been the kind I crave: deep and open.

Most of this group are aware of polyamory and bdsm. They sponsor and put on Fetish Ball. They can talk about topics that other friends of mine just don't feel comfortable with or acknowledge.

The only bummers it hat a friend held the key to this group years ago and I never thought to ask her to open the door. Ah, well. Maybe I wasn't ready then.

Dreams

We bought a new bed. It was a very expensive choice. It's amazing. Super comfortable. We've slept great every night. We've watched television, read books, made love, and slept in divine comfort. Yummy.

Blank Slate

We're closing next week. I'm excited. But it sure seems like "there's plenty of time," has turned into a clock with a mean face, hands speeding along in a blur. There's so much to do! This house, that house, and this house again. Things that need to be done before we move. Things that can only be done after. Thousands of small details on a long, long checklist.

We'll finally have a house of our own. I wonder how long it will take to make it a home?