Advent morning

It is dark outside, I have just put Tilda back to bed. Early morning, only six o’clock. What’s best to do now? According to hubby it is ‘go to bed and try to get some more sleep. I’ll fix breakfast for us and you take yours later.’ Thank you, love. I am not really awake, but cannot sleep either. Hubby’s clattering downstairs is all I hear. Tilda is not bothered at all, she takes another nap, finally, after a rather restless night. Weariness makes every decision a longwinding and slow process. Currently I am at my best when I am just doing the obvious things, nurse, change nappies, eat, sleep, brush teeth.

If Tilda is fine now, this means I have time till around eight. The light in here is out, but from the corridor I see a warm golden glow. For some reason this is more interesting than sleeping. It’s all about balance, always. I should sleep, but I don’t want to and will live to regret this later, won’t I?! Maybe it is the smell of coffee that adds to the attraction? I still love the smell, but won’t give the taste another try till summer.

A shiver runs down my spine, one of those that shakes you from head to toe. Maybe it is cooler in the bedroom than I had thought. It doesn’t surprise me much, as I am only wearing pyjama bottoms and a sleeveless top for nursing. Not long and I’ll go back to nightshirts for easy access. I don’t know, somehow this makes me feel as if I was public domain. 

So, what to do? Undecided I remain where I am, a longing glance at the warm bed, but somehow the remote is off for the moment. Do you know what it means to be free to do what you want to? I enter the bathroom and almost wish I hadn’t. ‘Hey you, you look horrible. You should get rest and care more about yourself.’ Funny. ‘I would, but why? I am either running out of time or out of energy. Besides, hubby says it doesn’t matter. Well, I want to be representable, but am not sure if I will be, this morning.’ I brush my teeth and stare at myself. ‘Who am I talking to, by the way?’ Hubby is not here, so it must be the mess with the toothbrush that asks and answers.

Thoughts start racing, arbitrary and maybe silly. ‘December, appointments, Christmas, it is a month of very mixed emotions this year.

As I realize this, I stop cleaning my teeth and I take my hand down to rest on the basin. The sound from downstairs fades, instead I hear a weak noise from the bedroom, but it is gone before I breathe again.

There is a moment of standstill as my thoughts return to the coming weeks. December has become a month of commemoration for us and there is still so much sadness involved. This really hurts a lot. Loved ones gone forever. I look down into the basin, something wet runs across my cheek and drips into the basin. ‘Breathe. Stop brooding’.

Looking up, it seems somebody switched on my remote control. Still with the toothbrush in my hand, I go back to the bedroom. Breathe. I need to hear my little girl now, just hear her in the dark. That’s all it takes to be fine again. She’s so quiet. I get closer, listen and can barely hear her regular breathing. Relief. ‘You should be spanked for brooding!’ Yeah, I’d consider this highly beneficial. 

I return to the bathroom. The creature in the mirror is still holding her toothbrush as if her life depended on it. She looks more relaxed and alive now than before. The clatter from downstairs starts all over again. ‘What is he doing there? Sounds like breakfast for ten or more’.

In a hurry, I wash and put on a rather wide and woollen green dress, warm and almost shapeless, public domain style, from a heap of fresh but unfolded clothes. This is the mountain of defeat and I have ignored it for most of the week.

Fresh mouth, fresh clothes, almost refreshed, hair quickly up in a bun, mascara, that’s all … and I cannot keep my mouth closed while applying mascara. I read the meme online, but had no time to do it myself. Nevertheless, this one got stuck and I did not even know that keeping the mouth shut can be difficult in such a moment. …’You could have guessed this, you couldn’t keep your mouth shut if your life depended on it’, the woman in the mirror says.  True. Sometimes. Often. Yes ok, right. 

I smile at the woman who suddenly looks so much more in the pink and also a little like Santa’s helper. Green dress, moose indoor slippers. Hey, this is the Christmas month, after all. The preparations around the house and especially the advent calendars have made the difference, and as a family it will be even more awesome. … But not with my in-laws this year, as we’ll meet in spring. Pretty late, isn't it? I sigh audibly.

“I can hear you! You are not in bed, so come downstairs!” When did he stop being noisy? And what could he possibly have heard? I have only been standing here most of the time. Anyways. my legs are still cold so I go down, into the invitingly warm kitchen and am surrounded by the smell of the sweetest pancakes east of the Atlantic. Hubby is busy putting the breakfast on the table. I have not seen so much food for two ever before. “ You look hungry." It's a fact, I am always hungry lately. A brief glance and he continues. "You choose; apple sauce, maple syrup, Nutella and banana or sugar with a little cinnamon … Rudolph.” What kind of smirk was that now? I look at my feet and start playing with the hem of my dress. “I don’t have a red nose, neither have my shoes.” Hubby puts three pancakes on my plate and motions me to sit down. I am just too slow this morning, so he takes me and sits me down. "You eat, you sleep!" I nod. “No cinnamon for me. I’ll go for chocolate and banana. Yummy.” Hubby has taken over and does what I should do. He has tea for me, turns his back on me and I hear the sound of a lighter. He turns back with the advent wreath I made and see one lit candle. “Happy first advent. After all it is the Christmas month, isn’t it.”

Feeling like a kid again

The greatest challenge in writing this entry was actually to find some kind of title for it. Well obviously I have decided on one, after considering what had happened. You'll see below how this is meant and how this has gained sort of positive and negative connotations this weekend.

Saturday we celebrated one of my nieces‘ birthday. It was loud, it was crowded and a lot of fun. My niece had asked for a party in an indoor playground. The kids (aged 7 to 11) had all been there before, so they were real experts and with an air of importance my nieces had told me days before, what to expect. It was not even far away, hubby, Tilda and I went a little earlier, and we had agreed to help out whenever the kids needed attention. … Oh my, this almost caused trouble with hubby, because we had agreed to come and I had offered helping my sister and brother in law. Hubby did not like this, because he wanted me to care for Tilda and otherwise relax, because somehow the nights are shorter than they used to be. :D

Of course I know that hubby did not want to spoil the fun, still, when we went there, he gave a little hint, by saying “Don’t let her chase after the kids. She’s not up to that yet.” ('She' has got a name!!!) The real hint was to be read in his face, saying that he would not allow me to do much more than dealing with a few minor things. Somehow, hubby was so not pleased, because he had gotten the idea that I would be too busy all afternoon. 

My sister understood and she assured hubby that none of that would happen (besides, there were enough adults). And then one of my absolute non-favourites happened. The two of them were discussing me above my head (can be funny, but not when it has a serious tone to it!) and I had to bite my tongue because if it is not just for fun I don’t like that. … And this is understated! 

But I also knew that any additional word from my side might easily have started everything all over again. It’s because I would have tried to downplay what my sister and I had talked about before.  

Well, I had offered to help more than a little bit, but we should not be pooterish now, should we?

Hubby would have known immediately, since I love doing whatever I can with my nieces, for my nieces and in this case also for the friends of my nieces, so any attempt at sugarcoating was out of the question. Seems I have a husband who knows this. Well, I kept quiet, hubby and sister settled this as quickly as hubby had started it and the afternoon was just a lot of fun. 

My only duty in the afternoon was to eat cake, feed Tilda, show her around and to refill water or lemonade a few times. Btw, did you know that there are indoor playgrounds where adults are not supposed to use the gadgets and monkey bars? Well, hubby did not want me to do that anyway, but I managed to use one of the slides, the biggest around. It was a steep climb up, but sliding down was worth it! I can’t wait for Mathilda to be old enough to do that … with me!

 

It was almost like this one

 I hope you all have a fantastic week, 

and 

everybody who needs something very beautiful and positive

should read 

Cat's entry on the seven world wonders 

and

heed her advice ---->   Now go out and make this a positive week!

This is a grey day

Mathilda news

Tilda is fine .... I am being followed by her. I mean when I am close by, she looks at my movements, and she can smile now while being awake, obviously she has entertainer qualities, because she tells herself things and is pleased, according to the noises. Well, and she still sleeps a lot. 

And we can play silly nursery or counting rhymes now. Itsy bitsy spider is one of our favourites, and one of the German ones is great too (Das ist der Daumen). They are great to count along Tilda's fingers and toes and guess what, it appears to be all new for her. Every time of the 999 times we have done it! ... She is persistent with this and her excitement is so cute. She stiffens her arms every time I count her fingers or toes. Every time!

She is far less excited when I feed her, though. There she takes her time, drinks a little, enjoys, drinks again, enjoys, drinks a little, ... you get the idea. If anything, trying to rush would make Tilda angry. She's relaxed, but not lazy. I need a little patience, sure, but actually she is easy to please, because she lets me know without doubt when she has finished lunch. She is not dawdling around all the time.

A friend of mine has a daughter who does that. Drinking, then only playing with mom's nipple in her mouth, maybe drinking again, playing with the nip. ... She should have been a boy, I'd say.

Black is not a colour, but it is my favourite one for now! Urgh!

Thank you so much for colours! I do not usually wear many dark clothes, but I have learned one, no two things by now.
1. Leaking can occur anytime, anyplace, usually in the most inopportune of moments possible.
2. Praise the Lord for black tops and pullovers. You cannot see the wet spots. But you can see every single goose bump on my nip if I wear a white shirt and forget the nursing pad. I'd win any wet T-shirt contest that way, I am sure.

It's the small things, too

This week has somehow not been too awesome yet. Therefore, when I started writing this, my mood was not really good. I think what's wrecking me is that hubby is pretty busy. It is midweek, so I cannot expect any other and don't want to. I simply feel more intensely this week that he has less time at the moment. Maybe you know what this is like, somehow all is fine but then again, you are not.

Sometimes they are only little things, and today, I can give a few outward reasons why I am not at my best, nevertheless, I am guessing a little, because I don't know for sure. So, I have a wee cold, am a little cranky, want to go to bed only, hubby is not here, friends are busy having a life (how dare they?! :D ), the outside world is grey, and I get a depression from having to wear black. Maybe it is this brooding that brings me down. I don't do that usually and believe that it is very unhealthy. Over-analyzing, yes, all the time, though I stop that often enough as it is an infinite supply of creating trouble. I think this has been the first day for ages where we only had one short appointment in the morning, but otherwise, nobody was visiting or calling.

Add to that, when Tilda and I went out in the morning, I thought the grey colour of this day was awful. Usually being out with Tilda is cool and invigorating, because of the fresh air, cold faces, we are both busy and I can tell her something about the world around her. But today? Not bad, but not too good either.

Gloomy times suck. But there are days when all it takes is a little incentive to make them awesome. If possible I want to do all so that our days here are awesome too. After lunch I decided that this was going to be a day that would be awesome in a way. (Another cunning plan of mine :D )

So, first I got some hot and healthy tea, then I put on my brightest red T-shirt, pads were fresh and dry, and even if I'd soak them, it wouldn't matter, as hubby is fascinated by my wet spots. This is where I want my sex drive back!

Second, light, give me light and more light, let it be bright. Much better! I switched it on after lunch, but early in the evening we actually switched most light off in the living room. It was cozy, Tilda and I on the sofa, we had done a lot of nursery rhyming today. When I put things in her hand, she grabs and holds them now, too. In a way, we had a half-lazy afternoon. There were a few chores, but apart from being around Tilda and playing a little with her, there was not much to be done. It was an easy day. I could not sleep, although I know I should have, but that was ok. Instead Tilda and I made it a quality time afternoon. Accordingly, the day was much better than its start. Hubby has returned by now, too, my best friend called, right after hubby returned. Hubby got dinner and afterwards Tilda had hers. Suddenly life is much brighter again.

Sorry for the jumpy thoughts, 

seems some sleep is in order now.

I wish everybody an awesome and most fantastic second half of the week!

I've got a cunning plan

Last year's September I started my blog as some kind of diary where I would write about domestic discipline, bdsm, our lives, the good and the bad. This was the original idea and I had absolutely no idea that I'd ever write more about pregnancy than about dd. Besides, writing about dd was good and I did not want to wait until Mathilda turns 18, so, here I am. No spanking yet, but nevertheless, I am writing dd-related, at last.

Anticipation before Christmas

Somehow this Christmas is my magic date for returning to some of the original topics. Hubby and I would like to start some kind of spanking again around Christmas, and we'll just see if this works out.

There might be one or two things speaking against it, but nevertheless, I'd love to try it, to get some (oh heck, a lot!!) kind of our 'old normal' back (sort of). 

Well, and I don't have to ask hubby about starting spanking again, I have eyes to see how he measures my bum and now, that I can already take light slaps, I get some of those, the lovely and soft ones. 

Then again it is quite obvious for us that I am not ready for more than that yet, neither physically nor mentally. This must sound so strange, but the physical aspect is a challenge for me. I am feeling quite well, but I simply could not take any spanking now. Not even one of the soft, lovely ones. I am afraid that I'd just go to pieces. I am fine, don't get me wrong, but not yet able to cope with much more than the good vibes. Confusing. I could get what I crave, but if I did, it might be too much to cope with for the moment.

Since we are doing fine (feels like another kind of honeymoon period, but with rings under the eyes), our worries are only about Mathilda, when she's maybe crying more than usual ... or keeping me awake longer than I'd imagined. :D Nevertheless, at the moment, I am a little afraid of more demanding situations that will come sooner or later.

So, what's my plan? Sleep more, recollect my senses, be more able to cope with the new again. .... And ask for more ... spankings! (in the longer run)

Why that? I have learned a lot about us this year, most of it was only possible because we had to give dd a sort of major break. Sure, I had alternative discipline, like cornertime, no tv, short computer time  or early bedtime, and it served its purpose. But it was incomplete, compared to what we had before. DD without spanking, the physical experience of it, is so different. 

I don't say it is better or worse, but I felt this lack of being held responsible in a physical way, to the extreme. Hubby too, because there have been a few situations when he would have loved to put me over his knees.

The 'other me'

From my side of things I can only say that I have tried hard, very hard (I mean it!) to be good for hubby. This was because I did not want to fail him or use my pregnancy as an excuse for being stupid and irresponsible. On the contrary, I wanted the opposite. Well, there have been times where I simply could not think, remember or act responsibly. Did I mention forgetfulness? But hubby knew this was not because I am trouble, so he was really patient and comforting. 

This must have been hard for him, too, but I am happy that I had him at my side in these moments. During the last months I was so grateful for his leniency that I don't have the words to express it. He sometimes simply knew that it was the 'other me' who did not know what she did. Hmmm, tricky, sounds a bit too much like a split personality, doesn't it? :) For the record, I felt great while pregnant, apart from sleep issues.

Stress stresses me

Anyways, back to my learning process. One of the things I learned is that stress stresses me more than I knew. :) What I mean is, this happens when hubby is under a lot of stress. Maybe it was different in the past, but his business has been soaring over the last two years and with that, his level of stress has increased considerably. I thought it was only a lack of time that I'd feel, but no, the pressure he carried around with him spread to me on a regular base, and we did not know that it did. So, as a result I was pretty flustered on some occasions and had no idea why. And I had no outlet from that, so it frustrated me for long. 

Wait, this is still dd-related! And it is still about asking for more!

We had an outlet, but it took us these last ten months to see it for what it is. We always knew that maintenance spankings make me calm, relaxed, let me find balance and we would wonderfully reconnect with it. Wonderful. But we did not have this awareness that I am actually a stress-copy of hubby when he is overly busy. It really has not been clear to us. Before pregnancy, this was no serious problem, because I got spanked often enough and the stress that I had accumulated, simply disappeared. We could not do this while I was pregnant. So, this accumulated. Imagine a volcano that erupts once the pressure is high enough. Imagine an unreasonable, ranting and raving preggo now and you get the picture.

I couldn't write about this before, because I had no idea about this pattern. Hubby and I discovered that together a few weeks ago, because some of how I behaved then, the way I am out of balance, until I get a spanking, have happened before.

Hubby has a very high stress tolerance. He can cope pretty well and all it does in him is that he is more energetic and alert. He is not even hectic or anything like it when I'd already be panicky. This can be frustrating. When it happens I always feel like a complete dork! But somehow, in the undercurrents you feel that he is also strained, maybe it is also because he has less time, then, too.

My cunning plan :) ... thanks to Baldric from Blackadder

I am not too good at stress management, obviously. I need harmony and peace. We knew that before, but just how much of it, is a little surprising for me.

Hubby is good at stress management and enjoys a challenging job. (He likes a challenge in general, that's why he has me! :)  )

Then again, he also wants peace and harmony at home. No, let me rephrase that ... he needs it!

But sometimes he might bring stress home and it spreads to me. If you compare the way we deal with it, I should say it multiplies in me. And we know that spanking has done us a lot of good. That's where my cunning plan kicks in. Once I am able to, I'll receive the spankings that I need. In addition, hubby and I have discussed that I have to relearn asking for spankings when I am not my balanced self. The problem with that is that I am usually the last who notices, but I'll try. 

She asked for it and they lived happily ever after :)

It is Saturday afternoon here and I hope that you all will have a lovely and fantastic weekend!

Love our Lurker days 2014

Lurking? Blurking/blorking?

So, a good year ago I began blogging. And from what I have learned about blogging and lurking there might even be a pattern to it. You read blog entries, feel for the authors or enjoy their entries and think about some of them. Maybe the thoughts urge you to do more. ... And BAM(!), here you are and blog in your own blog. I think somehow this happened to me. Warning! Blogging can be highly addictive.

And there is more to it. You blog, read other blogs, comment sometimes, read more, comment more, but notice you don't comment everywhere. And BAM (!) you are a lurker. But what does it make us, if we also blog? I always thought the pure lurker only reads and does not write (yeah, I can hear your thoughts!), and therefore those who do both are somehow a mix of blogger and lurker, hence ..... blurker. 

I think I'll try to impress hubby with that, when he returns home and asks how my day was. Usually this is pretty obvious, as I spend most of my time with our little baby girl and I love that. Nevertheless, I'll try to astonish hubby: "Well, I have been blorking around today!" Hope he doesn't misunderstand it as something dangerous, because he forbids such things quickly then!

Anyways, I really want to thank you for reading here in my blog. I appreciate your interest and do enjoy a 'hello', or your thoughts in a message. And please, feel hugged by me, because that's what I'd like to do  ...

For me having readers, lurkers and commenters, is absolutely exciting, because I can see in my strange blogger-map that I have readers from around the world. So, once again, welcome and thank you for stopping by, commenting, saying hello.

Last year I had no greeting for my readers here, because I was too new and did not understand much about blogging and this community. .... Oh, wait, uhm, I don't claim I do understand more now, but I learned about LoL-day and I am glad that I can say hello to you and hope you do the same.

And, I wish you all a great second half of the week! 

Mixed salad of non-dd

This entry is just about some minor things, as we are in a good place in general, but seriously, most of what I wanted to write about, has disappeared from my brain. I have thought about writing about sex, but at the moment this is absolutely no topic for me. Don't get me wrong there, I still enjoy reading about hot scenes, but I don't imagine myself in them or let them work their magic in other ways. I simply can't. It seems I have reached the other side of hormonal ups and downs. Not the most interesting of places, but quite good to help preserve some energy, because if I was only half as active as I was during my pregnancy, I'd collaps. From today's point of view there are two questions that I have: 1. How did I do that for months and felt tired but awesome? 2. How could hubby possibly have survived this? Hmmm, maybe that explains a few of his more religious outbursts á la 'Oh God'.

Mathilda-news

There have been lots of small baby-things going on here since Tilda's arrival. Well, everything about them is big for me, because I am a first-timer to them. For example Tilda's first bath. Ok, it is three weeks ago by now, and the first time I was not all alone with her, instead Mathilda had her first bath when my midwife was here too, so that she could give me instructions where necessary. All went smoothly and my midwife had a good laugh at me (not the first time), because when I used baby oil for Tilda's skin I couldn't stop breathing her in. I love that too much, I am a complete baby smell addict (some might know that from previous entries).

Apart from that, some of the big news (my rose-coloured glasses point of view speaking!) are that our little one is looking at us. And she talks. Not ten languages yet, but it is more than grunting or snoring. She is cooing a lot. This is absolutely cute to listen to. She also moves her head to see where sounds come from. I don't believe she can see much yet, though. Nevertheless, mommy is pretty active talking, singing and keeping body-contact. Yes, and dancing too. Mathilda got more dances to see within the last three weeks than hubby throughout this year! ... Maybe it is because I do not change hubby's diaper that often? (I am not sure if I want hubby to read this one)

Tilda's navel has healed well, obviously, and I have heard that some parents keep the last dried bit of umbilical cord. ... I wouldn't want to do that. When it fell off, hubby and I thought that it is just another sign that Tilda is doing fine, but nothing to become too nostalgic about. I mean, what would we do with it anyway? Give it to Mathilda at her 18th birthday? 'Here sweetie, the first body part of yours that fell off, isn't it cute'? Hmmm, she might find out early enough that her parents are not like Joe and Jane Lunchbucket, without adding more clues, so, no, thanks.

The slow return of body issues? - Not yet

Now and then I look in the mirror and see too much belly, what a surprise. I still look pregnant, but slowly I can also see that the belly becomes less. It takes longer than I wish it would, but then again, I am not really tearing my hair out about it. Maybe I am relaxed because there is progress. It is slow, but visible (even though I am eating early pre-Christmas biscuits, but skip most of the chocolate for a reason).

The only (slight) worry is that my bum might be the place where one or two or ten pounds will stay longest. Not (!) forever, though (I hope).

And the good news concerning body issues is that I am not scared about my weight. It still goes down. Slowly, but downwards and this is pretty cool because I don't have to diet or do anything for it (I know that I should do more than Kegels, though). I just try to eat healthy and non-gassy, because Tilda would tell me off the same night (and this could easily mean the whole night! Adios Don Sleepo) if I ate the wrong things.

There is one trap that I almost seriously fell into, though. Naturally, Tilda is nursed at night too, and I really had difficulties at stopping myself from having a midnight snack when she had one. Imagine what would happen if you did that every night.... . So, I stuck to a glass of water and did not give in. Water at night creates its own kind of troubles, though. 

I wish everybody a great second half of the week!

After Midnight

“Honey, it’s for you! Your little one is crying.” Uhmpf, my clock says it is after midnight. Isn’t she a little early tonight!? Light is too bright. Well, actually it's not, I am just too drowsy. Moments pass … What was that? Wait. Hey! “She is yours, too!” I am grumpy and him saying that annoys me. He had turned to the side again, away, probably sailing into the wide ocean of sleep. No. He chuckles? “You got me. But it works every time. You are much more awake now, aren't you?” He turns around, rests on his arms and in the soft light his skin has a golden kind of glow. Lovely. He grins at me, stands up, walks around the bed, to Tilda (Yes, the name is in active use between hubby and me - sometimes). 

She protests as he takes her out of the cozy little cradle, stops crying, but one or two little whimpers still leave her tiny mouth. The sound she makes is so pityfully cute that it hurts and I cannot do anything but smile. Her mouth is still lightly drawn down, as if she’s only collecting new air for the next round of crying. I melt when I see her doing that, with him holding her, talking to her so soothingly. … He definitely has a way with women, ... no matter what age. 

 

I do not even leave the bed, instead he brings her to me. “Thank you sweetheart.” I am still tired, but also beaming at him. This is a perfect moment, too bad that it cannot last forever. I open my nightshirt, hold Tilda, latch her on and she’s drinking eagerly. It is quiet, and the loudest I can hear is my own heartbeat which shares its rhythm with Tilda's sucking. 

Hubby returns to bed, turns to me and watches us. He moves closer, his face totally relaxed, no, even pleased and content. “Do you know how peaceful and content you look? You are beautiful.” That’s my text, isn’t it? I feel how my weariness leaves me and feel invigorated, thoughts race and I could give a hundred reasons why I think the same about him. “I wanted to say the same to you! You looked so pleased and content, as if there was only us. This was so …” Suddenly I notice the amused twinkle in his eyes. Yeah, sometimes saying less is more, I realize. He can still make me blush out of the blue. I smile, as I look down to Tildy and then back at him. He smiles too, kisses me onto the forehead, careful not to disturb Tilda. “Sleep well. Don’t let the bedbugs bite you." He pokes Tilda lightly. No reaction from her side. She is not interested, her priorities are clear. He turns around, off to dreamland. All that is left to hear now is a little of  Tilda’s rhythmical sound as she drinks and his regular breathing. 

I wish you all a fantastic weekend!