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Saturday, 26 January 2013

200,000 page views

A big thank you to all those who have read my blog, especially those of you who comment.

I have recently reached 200,000 and it seems an unbelievable achievement in a relatively short space of time, so thank you.

I know there are some fab blogs out there who say a lot more and who have a lot more blogging credentials than I but thank you kindly everyone.

C

Wednesday, 23 January 2013

I have learnt to submit to my husband

When I started this blog I wrote a post with a similar title, but the content was basically me ranting about that fact that I had no idea how to submit to my darling man.


Last night I had an epiphany.  I realised for the first time that I feel like I know what it takes.  

Don't get me wrong, I am not saying I have all the answers but I feel successfully submissive and my husband is successfully leading and strong at the same time.

It is simple really, I am as loving and supportive as I can be and I show him respect.

I am stating the obvious really to anyone who knows us.  I pride myself in being a submissive wife and when I say that, I don't mean in a demeaning way.  All I mean is that I respect my husband's decisions in all things, or at least I try to.  Sometimes I don't realise that I am ignoring his leadership, and he takes me to one side, gives me a dominant look and reminds me to think about my approach.  99% of the time I realise that he is probably right and I give in (swallowing my pride has taken a few years to master).

Sometimes I really don't agree with him, and I have now found a calm way of telling him so.  I used to, in a cliched woman-like fashion, fly off the handle and become angry and irate, especially when confronted by a cross husband but now I have naturally calmed my nature and I remain respectful.

It has taken over two years to get here.  Some of that time has been difficult, and I realise that it was probably quite dangerous to embark on such a lifestyle when our marriage was so new and happy.  For us it was never a marriage saving option but something to sustain our strength and happiness and it has done that.

There were times, when my husband had me over his knee, that I remember thinking I would never get it, I didn't think I would ever find a way of settling into a norm, where I naturally follow his lead and guidance.  I also, though I am embarrassed to admit it, found the adrenaline of dodging his wrath rather addictive.  But now we are us, we are happy and strong and he leads and I follow.

My pregnancy has helped us to balance things.  He has learnt to guide me more with words rather than his spanking hand! As I have learnt to calmly accept his position as head of our household.

I have had a lot of negative comments over the past few months, which don't bother me, I am happy for everyone to have their opinion.  In fact I would have been horrified and would have reacted in the same way before I began this lifestyle.  What I don't understand though is that many of these people make presumptions.  They think that because I am happy and for my husband to have the final say and occasionally put me over his knee, that the following things are also true:

I am unhappy or dissalutional
My husband is nasty and a violent bully
I am a beaten wife
I am crazy
I should be able to spank my husband in order to find equality
My children are spanked
My children witness a violent or negative relationship 

It is funny actually because we are none of the above.  If you met us or knew us well you wouldn't believe any of these things.  To other people, and I know because they have told me, we are very loving, happy, enjoy life, we clearly love each other's company and we are often a good example to other people when it comes to marriage for young people.

If you met my husband, he comes across as gentle and funny, intelligent and laid back, but strong.

If you met me you would think that I am slightly quirky, confident, sociable and artistic.

Our daughter is very happy and very loved, she is a delight and makes everyone laugh all the time.

Allowing your husband to take the final say in things really makes a difference.  We watch friends and family battle for leadership in their relationships and it is so destructive for them and their children.

One of my friends said the other day 'my boyfriend said he would leave me if I cut my hair short' and another, when going for a pregnancy scan said, 'he wanted to find out the sex, but I wasn't going to to, I said, It's my body so you can't do anything without my permission'.

So many of the situations that we witness could easily be improved with a little more respect on both parts.  In society I am a big believer in equality when it comes to the sexes, homosexual marriage or racism, and that is the same in my marriage.  I am not expected to be my husband's slave, we share tasks in the house, when I am working or he is working, the other steps up.  

But in societal powere someone is always in charge.  Communism was a lovely ideal of equality in power, but it didn't work did it? It's the same with my marriage.  We are equal in lots of ways but when it comes down to one of us taking the lead or having the final say, my husband is there to take on his role.

And it works just fine.



  



Saturday, 19 January 2013

Love and Guidance

After my last post a few lovely people said that it was nice to see me blogging again.  That really touched me so thank you.

In Paris my darling husband was wonderful.  He was strong and protective  loving and guiding, just what I needed after such a terrifying week. But there was one moment in particular that really stood out for me and, I have to say, that I think it sits among the top 5 most romantic moments of my life (needless to say all are with my beloved).

We had been on a long walk, exploring the nooks and crannies of Paris.  We were back at our flat and I was sat on the sofa with a cup of chocolat chaud.  I was chilled and shivering.  I don't think it was from the cold so much, though it was bitter in the French city, I think it was more down to the fact that I was exhausted.  I had spent a week fearing that I was, once again, loosing my baby and at 19 weeks pregnant, I was terrified of the reality of what may be involved in the following few weeks.

I felt drained, as if all of the positive energy and the will power and feisty-ness that he loves me for, had been sucked out of me.

I was sat on the sofa, staring at my book, not really reading, feeling like, if I stood up, my legs would give in underneath me.

I saw it before it happened.  From the corner of my eye, my darling boy was looking at me worried.  He stood up and walked towards me.  He calmly took hold of the book in my hand and placed it on the table.  He then took the mug from my other hand and placed it on the same table, with the care and attention and gentleness that our hective lives often blind us to.

He then opened his hand towards me to help me off of the sofa and said in a gentle voice, 'come with me'.

I followed him as he lead me to the bathroom.  The room was warm and cosy with clean towels on the sink, crisp and white and welcoming.

He walked me inside and closed the door.  He clasped my head carefully in his hands, nurturing and loving, and kissed me softly.  Then he turned on the shower.

He turned towards me again and began to undress me.  Still with the same slow, gentle and loving movements, he took off my cardigan and my dress. He removed my shoes and my tights and finally he carefully removed my bra and knickers, stripping me from worry and fear, taking control and leading me into safety

The room was warm and inviting.  I still felt week and shaky but calmer and loved and safe.  There was something in his gesture, something in his loving and gentle touch that soothed my fears.  I knew in that moment, in that act of love and kindness that he would protect me and look after me, that I wasn't alone and whatever happened, I would be safe and we would be together through it all.

He kissed me again softly, then guided me towards the shower.  He removed his clothes and came in with me.  He gently took a bar of soap and, lathering his hands, carefully began to wash me.  He warmed up my cold and shaky skin, he washed away the torment and the frown lines, lovingly massaging me as he went, soothing me.

He carefully cleaned every part of me and cuddled me softly under the warm, flowing water.
Turning the tap off, he lead me from the shower and enveloped me in a large fluffy white towel that had been warming on the radiator.  He half cuddled and half rubbed my wet body until it was dry.  He then led me to the bed and tucked me into the crisp white linen.  

He dried himself and joined me between the sheets.  It was barely 5 O'clock.  The Parisian streets outside were sill bustling.  The french bistro on the corner with just opening expecting its' first after-work drinkers but we were lying in bed.  Not to sleep, or rest, but to stop.  To take an hour out of our busy lives, where we had been filled with fear and worry.  Time stood still in that bed or maybe we made our own time.  Just me in his arms, safe and loved, he, wrapping his arms around me. Protecting me, cherishing me.

After making love I laid in his arms safe and warm.  Life didn't seem so scary and my fear dissipated, if only for an hour or two, disappeared out into the cold, January, bustling street outside.

In that moment I realised that my man was there for me.  Something I had always known but my fear and thoughts and worries had clouded my vision.  The reality of our situation, the reality that we could still loose our baby was there and real, but the fears and questions surrounding it were no longer there, no longer prevalent.

My strong, leading husband had blanketed me from them.  We were in it together, as we always have been, as we always will be.  Together.  I am very lucky indeed.

C
 

Friday, 18 January 2013

It's been a while

It has been so long since I have blogged, life really gets in the way when you are pregnant.

I am now 20 weeks now, so half way through.

We had a great Christmas but a rather scary new year.

We spent the entirety of new Year's Day in hospital having tests after a pregnancy scare, and it continued through the week, which was nasty.

It all seems to have settled down now (touch wood) and little one is kicking away inside me.

My husband loves it when I am pregnant, he finds me the most attractive when I am.

He loves that he impregnated me and that I am carrying his child, and his love for it makes me feel very special and loved.

After our nasty start to the year he took me to Paris for a week for my 27th birthday.  We had a lovely flat in Monmartre and we spent our days walking and drinking chocolat chaud while huddling around outside cafe heaters and my beloved smoking on a pipe.



We found lovely little arty cafes and shops and for my birthday present he bought me an artists abstract print from a lovely boutique that we found in the Marais.

It was a lovely and well timed break.

Dd wise, my darling man is leading as he always has done, despite fears of my and our child's safety.  Spanking is rare, which is good as during maintenance last week I was astonished at how low my pain thresh hold is! a swift hand spanking and I am feeling rather sore indeed.

This week in the UK we have had a blast of snow, nothing compared to US standards but with our poor unprepared snow infrastructure it has meant, as it always does, a standstill to work and school.

Being unemployed I was unaffected and instead spent today enjoying the snow with my 3-year-old, making a ginormous snowman, which she was sad that she couldn't take home! And watching my Dad race down hills with her on my childhood sledge (pregnant mummy had to watch only :( )

I shall check in again soon, when I get a spare minute.

Take care
C