Friday, December 21, 2012

wake up call...

It's 1:39am...and I'm wide awake with a mind full of spinning thoughts. Maybe this is my wake-up call.
My life is full of changes and never has that been more true than this year.
More than ever I find myself at a crossroads...waiting...waiting to make a decision, sometimes waiting for someone to make a decision.
Not all the decision/choices feel like they are mine to make.

Thursday, December 13, 2012

The path...

Once you turned the corner there was a fork in the road.
The right side was wide and smooth and obviously well walked.
The left though, was narrow and crooked with sharp rocks that could cut your feet.
A well worn bench sat between the two paths. It too, was worn. The paint long worn away and wood smoothed down.
Perhaps some took time to decide which path to take and needed to rest their weary legs.
Or perhaps, the bench was simply just there...for no reason at all.

It mattered not. For I never rested at that bench you see. I simply steered towards the left and kept on going.
Oh, I knew it was the harder path. The darker path, to be sure. But I'd never learn anything on that easy path.
I knew there would be heartbreak, tears, loss and that perhaps it might break me.

But I'd never know myself if I chose any other way, you see.
And if I never found myself, how were you going to find me as well?

Wednesday, December 12, 2012


Sometimes I feel so lost.

I wonder if I will ever find my way again.

Tuesday, December 11, 2012

it's that time of year...

It's been awhile since my last post. Thanksgiving is over and now Christmas is around the corner.

As every year for the last twenty, I struggle between loving this time of year and mourning this time of year.

Growing up, my family thanksgivings were quiet. Just my mother, father, brother and me. We never had extended family over for holidays. They all live(d) on the east coast and my father hated traveling during the holidays.

We'd eat ourselves to death and lay around the house. Then on Friday we'd drive down to Carmel-by-the-Sea and do some Christmas shopping. I'd follow my father around in and out of art galleries. Usually he'd see something that would speak to him and buy it. My father has a wonderful collection to this day.

On Saturday we'd drive up the hill and chop down a tree. Our living room had very high ceilings and the tree usually topped out at about 20 feet. We'd manage to get the tree home and soak it in a bucket of water overnight an hope all the little bugs would crawl off overnight. Most of them did.

Then on Sunday, we(my father, brother and myself) would struggle to get that damn tree in the house and standing up. Most years it didn't fall over. Eventually we learned to tie it off with fishing line half way up to keep it standing.

My brother and I would use the rest of the afternoon to decorate the tree.

That was our family tradition until the year our father collapsed at the thanksgiving dinner table 20 years ago. Later that weekend the doctors told us he had an inoperable brain tumour that would kill him in less than four months.
The holidays have never been the same for me, and probably never will. Yes, I mourn him. However, I wish my girls could have known him. I wish he could have been a grandfather.

I've passed many of those family traditions on to my own family. I'm blessed for every year we're able to do them.
I've changed a few here and there. I'm not a turkey girl...we have prime rib for Christmas dinner. Hmmm. Our tree has never been taller than 9 feet...and I only remember the kitten knocking over the tree once.

I hope you all have family traditions to carry on to your children.

Happy Holidays to you and yours,
Monkey Girl

Thursday, November 15, 2012

Bizarre porn searches

My site meter will give me information about my readers.
Location, referring pages, how long a reader stays and what pages they read.

The key search words that led them to my blog gives me a laugh now and then.
A common one is: girl having sex w/monkey.
I get that daily from all over the globe. I never realised the demand for that kind of porn.

Today though, in someone's quick typing search and/or perhaps autocorrect changed it to:

Girl and monkey prom.

Wonder what they thought/felt when they pulled up my page?

Disappointment probably.

Thursday, October 25, 2012

Survival of the young.

I have strong memories of our life before we were adopted.
Most of these memories are not pleasant to remember. But time has eroded these memories into little snapshots. Brief moments in time blurred by age.

Thankfully, I no longer dream about these memories. I think my mind protects me even in my sleep and for this I am grateful.

Six months before we were finally adopted, we were placed with a family who were considering adopting us.

I try to remember that during the early to mid 1970s adopting two children who were certainly far from infancy was not common. As a matter of fact, it was pretty damn rare. Our poor social worker had her hands full I'm sure. It's remembering this that I'm able to forgive Children's Home Society of their ignorance.

As a seasoned ward of the state I knew this "trial adoption" was a farce. I wondered though why they were considering us. Only now do I imagine it could have been out of some sense of guilt perhaps. Maybe not.

We lived with them and their 9 year old son for three excruciatingly long months.

There are pictures of us celebrating Christmas and my brother's birthday. Presents piled high on top of a hideously orange shag carpet.

In those pictures we look like children of war. Dazed and confused. Completely lacking of any emotion.
Looking at them, I often wonder what I was thinking at that exact moment. Did I know how bleak our future was even at such a young age of 5 and 6?

I think I did. I knew adults were not to be trusted. Which now thinking back makes me sad.

Many memories have been long forgotten. Stored away in some deep corner of my brain. I'm thankful my brain protects me from these memories.
I don't need to remember them to know they are true...that they really did happen to two little children.

It was my childhood, such as it was.

Thursday, October 18, 2012

Highway 4

During our college years, H and I lived in a medium sized rural town, at least in the 1980s.  Now it's home to nearly a half million residents that commute to the Bay Area.

Back then, once you hit the end of town, it was farm land as far as the eye could see.

Often H and I would take long lazy drives out into the country.  Usually looking for some peace and quiet away from the dorms, loud neighbours and frat parties.

We'd often park in wide open fields of farm land, climb thru the sunroof and lay on the roof of the car. The air smelled cleaner out there. Funny but even now I love the smell of dirt mixed with long dry grass.
We'd lay on the car roof and let the sun warm the car and us.

Sometimes during the summer months we'd watch lightening storms off in the distance. Watching the sheets of rain move slowly across the landscape. Marvel as the tall fields of corns would sway back and forth all in unison.

We needed those times to get away and reconnect...feel and watch something real and authentic.  I needed it.  Moving from the foothills where houses were spread apart by acres to dorm rooms with no privacy was taking its toll on me.  It didn't help that my first 3 dorm roommates were all certifiable.

My first roommate was a foreign exchange student from Korea.  Within the first month of school she managed to miss nearly 80% of her classes. As I'd take off for my first class of the day, she was usually just coming home from her late night partying.   Before I knew it, her parents had yanked her back home to Korea.

She was replaced with another roommate, who 2 months into my second semester stopped talking to me.  One day we were all giggles, the next she wouldn't even acknowledge my presence in the room. It's wasn't till years later she told me she had suffered a mental break. I guess not talking for a few months helped her. It made me realize I needed to move across campus into another dorm.

My third and final roommate(then I moved in w/H) was sweet, fun, kind and the biggest coke dealer on our little campus.  I really did like her. I didn't however like waking up at 3am in the morning to three people sitting on the end of my bed doing lines.  I'm a fairly laid back person but I still like to choose my own bedmates and get a full night of sleep now and then.

I cherished those days H and I would drive out to the country, take a picnic lunch and sleep on the roof in the sun.  That little Volvo saw more sex than any other car we've owned since.
Those days helped me keep my sanity. Helped me get through some difficult times during those school years.

Even after we graduated, H and I would take long drives out towards the Sierra mountains.  It's one of the few things I miss about that small rural town.

That and the smell of the rain.

Wednesday, October 10, 2012

A week of assignments...

If I didn't know any better I'd think I was back in high school.

I believe, in this week alone, I've had 5 writing assignments. Not that I'm complaining, oh no, not me. *eyes rolling*

However these assignments don't just include writing. Generally, I must perform a duty and then write about it.

It has been noted that I have tremendous difficulty orgasming while giving blow jobs. I hadn't given it a lot of thought actually, i wasn't aware this was a problem. When I'm giving H a blow job I'm more in-tune to his wants and needs than my own.

I've never been a big fan of 69-ing. I'm rather short and H is 6'4" tall. But our torsos are almost the same length so height doesn't play into it(yes I have short legs).
It has more to do with staying focused on one job at a time. When it comes to 69, I start to develop ADD.

I can't stay focused on my job if H is doing something to me and vice versa really. I kinda feel it just leads to two people getting sexually frustrated...and usually a cramp or charley horse or two.

So my assignment this week has been to orgasm while giving head, ie me on my knees with my lelo placed nicely inside me while I get into a steady rhythm and head space where I can give pleasure and receive pleasure at the same time. Sounds easy, right?

Let me tell you people...this is NO easy task. It takes a lot of concentration and a bit of just letting go really.

My lack of success this week has been a bit disappointing.

So this afternoon waiting in my email box was a confirmation to attend a blow job class. I've been signed up for...blow job lessons!! Yikes!

Yes, you read that correctly. I've been signed up to attend a fellatio class next month.

I'm already beet red from embarrassment.

Saturday, October 6, 2012

She's gone to the other side...

I've spoken about my friend before, you can read about her here and here if you want to catch up.

Since my blow up on the phone, I hadn't heard from her. I didn't really expect too, we've been in this dysfunctional cycle for years now and I've got it down pat. When I tell her something she doesn't want to hear and smacks too much of truth, I won't hear from her for months. Not until the next time she needs to vent to me.

So when I saw a message on my facebook account, I was a tad surprised to hear from her. Her message was full of anger. Misquoting our last phone conversation to the hilt. Telling me what I had said was unforgivable.
It's amazing to hear her version of the talk...because what I said and what she heard were two very different things. This has been the case for years, of course.

I knew there was no point correcting her. It would just keep the argument going and really that's what she wants/needs. She needs the drama to continue. This is how she remains the perpetual victim in her mind, I think.

I told her that I wished her well with her newly found freedom(her husband had moved out) and that she found the peace she so greatly deserved and left it at that. And I really mean that. I think after 10+ years of this, I'm done and can only wish her well as I quietly close the door on this chapter of my life.

Trust me, I knew that wouldn't be that last I heard from her but I won't bore you with the details.

After her third or fourth message(becoming increasingly more hateful) I blocked her from my account.

What surprised me was my sense of relief I felt almost immediately. I guess I hadn't realised I'd been holding in so much stress related to her situation.

I can only hope she finally gets the help she needs. Maybe one day our paths will cross and I'll see her happier.

I can hope.

Friday, October 5, 2012

Missing my blogger friend...

It's been about six months since I decided to restart my blog.

The poor thing just sat for two years. But blogging no longer held my interest and I slowly drifted off into the ether.

Recently, a favourite blogger of mine decided to close up shop after years of blogging. She's been gone a week and I already miss her.

When I stumbled upon her blog/journal I was enthralled. So honest. So raw. It floored me. It took me over a week to read the entire journal. I stayed up into the wee hours of the morning in a 7 hour reading stretch to finish it...I couldn't put it down.

I wrote her and her spouse a heart felt thank you that morning at 6am and the very next day I decided to re-start my blog/journal. This time I wasn't going to edit out parts of my life I was too scared to share. I was inspired.

I'm not sure I've made as much progress as I'd hoped, but it's a start to be sure.

Saturday, September 29, 2012

Hello Portland

Not much has changed since our move. I still drive monkey to school in the morning, pick up in the afternoon. The animals still need walking, etc.

Our new house will take awhile to get used to...different sounds at night. I still sleep on the same side of the bed but have walked in the wrong direction for the bathroom on more than a few occasions. Haven't hurt myself yet.

The streets and freeways seem to be very confusing to me. I'm afraid to get off the freeway for fear I won't be able to get back on.

What can I say, but it's different.

H left today to finish up a few things at our house in Seattle and take our oldest out to lunch.

It's been about a month since she left for college. The dynamics of the household have changed a bit. It feels strange having a child who doesn't live at home anymore.

She called at 11:30pm the other night just to chat. Of course, we'd been asleep for a bit, but didn't tell her that. It's an adjustment for her as well. Calling to complain about how John Terry(Chelsea footballer) was a douchebag...I figured she really just called to talk.

There are boxes everywhere that still need unpacking. My days are limited till H starts to get frustrated with the state of the house.

Everything is in a state of flux and I feel like I'm spread too thin.

Many changes to talk about but not really ready to share yet.

Boring post I know, promise to spice it up next time.

Friday, September 21, 2012

Goodbye Seattle...

Today is our last day in Seattle. Right now I'm hiding in our bedroom as the movers load furniture and boxes onto a truck bound south this afternoon.

I am still ambivalent about this move. I don't know why and crying in my therapist's office Wednesday afternoon didn't bring me any answers except I don't feel ready for the move.

I realize it's a little late now to be's a done deal.

H has been in Portland now for over 3 weeks Mon-Fri. I've been miserable without him, so I feel like I should be relieved if not ecstatic that we will soon be living under the same roof again.

But I know my uneasiness has nothing to do with that. I'm just worried. Worried that kiddo will hate her new school. Worried she'll have a hard time making new friends. Worried that all the confidence she's gained in the last year and a half will be lost. Worried that I won't be able to help her.

Of course I realize this is all beyond my control but knowing that and feeling that are two separate ideas in my head that can't seem to come together.

I keep reminding myself of all the wonderful people waiting for us. Family and friends, excited that we'll be living so close.

Sorry for the whiny post.
I hate change and uncertainty.

Monday, September 17, 2012

Surrender and trust...part 1

Surrender and trust go hand-n-hand in any relationship, not just D/s, M/s or O/p relationships but in vanilla relationships as well.

All successful relationships require a degree of surrender and trust in order to move and grow. But total trust? 100% surrender? How much?

When H and I moved in together, our trust for one another began to build. I trusted that he meant what he said. I trusted that the love he expressed for me was real. I trusted him with my body.

Trusting him came easy.

Surrendering though, would take years to accomplish.

For me surrendering my heart to him and trusting that he would not only care for it but keep it safe...would be the most difficult task I'd encounter.

I didn't use to believe in unconditional love. At least not between two people committed to each other. I thought, perhaps what a mother feels for her child...this must be the closest to unconditional love there is.

Years later when I had our two babies, I felt this. I feel it still. But even as early as a few years ago I doubted that H could love me unconditionally.

How could he? There had to be some transgression I could commit that would stop him from loving me. Right?

If I couldn't love myself and all my flaws, how could he?

Saturday, September 15, 2012

Last weekend...

This is the last weekend H will have to drive 4 hours to come home to us...this time next Saturday we'll be knee deep unpacking boxes and trying to find space for all our belongings.

Our mid-week phone sex sessions will come to an end...and finally be replaced by actual weekday sex. No more weekend only sex. It's been hard to squeeze 5 days worth of sex into just Saturday and Sunday. But we've had fun trying.

We'll keep our house up here, but packing it up feels like saying goodbye.

When we moved up here from California in 2005, I marveled at all the christmas trees that just grew everywhere. "Look christmas trees in their natural habitat!" I'm going to miss my christmas trees.
I'd never driven a car onto a ferry boat before either...there were so many firsts for me here.

I've come to love the pacific northwest. And even though we'll just be 4 hours away and technically we'll still live the pacific northwest, it's going to feel different...and be different.

We muddled thru one goodbye party already. I'm not good with goodbye parties. We have family and friends that live in Portland already, waiting for us to arrive. I'm sure there will be welcome to Portland parties too. I'm sure you can guess I'm not that good with those either. I like to be the party giver not the party receiver. ;)

As soon as we settle and I find my Target store, Trader Joe's, a good Chinese restaurant, Thai, Mexican, etc...I'll be able to relax and take a deep breath.

Until next week...

Tuesday, September 11, 2012

On the road again...

As boxes get packed and memories stored safely away, I reflect on all the places we've lived over the last 20 odd years.

I still remember my first move into H's apartment in the summer of 1988. Back then everything I owned fit into our '78 264 GL Volvo. Those were the days...picking up and moving didn't require much planning or effort.

20 years later, a minimum of three packers will take entire day to pack our belongings. Geez, I feel like a hoarder, but really don't feel like we're attached to all that much. Except of course, for my books. Movers hate books...I learned this little fact years ago. In addition to my vintage dish collection. ;) I'm a sucker for anything 1950s/60s. Every new(old) dish that makes its way into our cupboard is proceeded by a lot of eye rolling on H's part. I can hardly blame him. The poor guy, he doesn't understand the love of vintage dishes.

I don't have much to pack before the movers arrive, just those "personal" items that are often kept in one's night table that you'd rather not have strangers seeing or touching. Oh, and my undies and bras. Don't know why but with each move more than a few seem to magically disappear. Ick.

Soon we'll be in another town and another state.

On a positive note, we have friends and family living waiting for us there. It'll be a relief to finally live close to family again...and good kind anyway!

Monday, September 10, 2012

More than a little blah.

Really haven't been in the 'writing' mood as of late. With H working four hours away Monday thru Friday, the weekdays have been dragging. It's been more than a little blah...and lonely.

Then Friday evening rolls around and H is home(yippee!!) but Saturday and Sunday just fly by...poof...and it's Monday again.

On Sunday nights I can't seem to get enough of him. Holding him so tight in bed, not wanting to let go. If I could squeeze him inside myself I would. Keep him there.

Many changes happening. Oldest kiddo left for college. We're down to three...well, two Monday thru Friday. Just little monkey and me...and she's not so little anymore.

Another five years and she'll be off too. Then it'll be down to two.

H and monkey girl.
The original two.

Monday, September 3, 2012

The best laid plans...

I guess Baby had a plan of her own.

Friday, August 31, 2012

Friday night fun!!

As the hours count down till H comes home tonight...the more desperate I become. H had told me I could freely use the hitachi this week. ;)

But here's the thing, I couldn't come. No matter how hard I tried, and trust me I tried and tried. Even with the hitachi!! All I did get was a clitoris that was on fire and a splitting headache. For FOUR days!!

Last night H talked dirty to me(on the phone) while I used the magic wand. Nothing. Zip.

So now I'm counting down the hours till H comes home.

8 hours and counting.

Too worked up to write a long post...

Monday, August 27, 2012

Light at the end of the tunnel.

H was home by 7pm on Friday. Even though we were so eager to jump into bed, the girls wanted some 'Dad time'.

But by 11pm we were so wrapped up in ourselves the house could've burnt down and I don't think we'd have noticed or cared.

My friends laugh when I complain about H being gone for a few days. They tease me. Some say they wish their husband traveled as much as H does...I never know what to say to them about that. When he's gone, I truly miss him. It's as if I'm a boat and my anchor is gone. I'm truly adrift.

My friends don't know much about our marriage or dynamic. We're private. I know they think we're cute...that he's sweet to me and that I'm glued to him. But I don't share with them and they don't really ask. They're more apt to talk about themselves and/or complain about their marriage.

Sure H can be a doo-doo head(lol) and sometimes a little thoughtless, but I know he loves me. He cares for me, makes me take my yucky medicine, puts me to bed, helps me be the best I can be. I can only hope he knows how much I love him.

Saturday morning I awoke to him sinking inside me. My favorite way to wake up. As he came I wished him a happy birthday.

He stayed in bed while the girls fixed him breakfast. He was such a sport cause by 11am he was starved but the girls were trying their best but frustrated by the sausage that apparently wouldn't cooperate. ;) Eventually cinnamon rolls and homemade sausage mcmuffin with eggs was served(sausage, fried egg, with cheddar cheese on an English muffin. It was wonderful and H is always a happy man when finally fed.

Later we went to the bookstore, pet store(new dwarf hamster) and dinner.

By Sunday nite he was packing up again for the week and I was getting teary. He decided to stay the night and leave early the next morning. Yes, I'm a very bad influence.

This morning after two trips back to our bedroom to kiss goodbye, he was on his way.

This week he moves into the house he found for us. Soon there will be a moving company packing up our nic nacs and moving them to our new home. It'll be a new adventure.

My home is wherever H is...

Wednesday, August 22, 2012

Where monkey girl loses it.

Sometimes no matter how prepared I am for the inevitable, I still feel the rug being pulled out from under me. I hate that feeling. It never fails to happen when H is away or unavailable...and I'm left struggling on my own. It makes me feel weak and vulnerable.

Kiddo #2 came to me last night. Snow White, her dwarf hamster was dying. Although she's quite old and we'd suspected this was coming, it was no less heart breaking as we watched her struggled for breath. Kiddo #2 and I held her for a few hours, talking about how sweet she'd always been. We eventually tucked her into her bed(in her cage) and kissed her goodnight.
By morning she was gone. Kiddo wanted to talk with Daddy and cried on the phone with him. He texted me later upset he couldn't be there to comfort her(and me). Kiddo has been weepy all day...even I felt some tears on my cheek this morning. RIP Snow White. You were very loved and will be missed.

But it was later when monkey girl's friend who is struggling with addiction called that she sorely needed H.
I've talked about her story here before...she's spiraling out of control and taking her family(2 young kids) with her. She called to complain of yet another arrest, her husband's(he's an addict too). But after all that had happened with kiddo and Snow White and H being gone, I just couldn't listen to her rant yet again about how everyone had failed her. I don't doubt I'm on that list as well.

But before I made a hasty goodbye, she told me something she'd told her oldest(who is in grade school). Suddenly, it was like a fire was in my gut...I raged at her. How could she treat this child like an adult, and lay adult responsibilities on her? How could she make this child her confidant? I yelled at her for treating her child like an adult. I screamed at her for not being 'the parent'.
Even now I don't remember all I said. I just remember telling her I couldn't do this anymore...I couldn't listen anymore. And I hung up.

It didn't take me long to realize I wasn't only yelling at her. I was somehow yelling at my own mother, who had done the exact same thing to me. I saw her as she really was...a very mentally ill person. This is no surprise, but the trigger was.
I wish I could help her children, but I doubt I will hear from her again.

I wish I could have been a better friend.

Tuesday, August 21, 2012

This sucks...literally.

H left on Sunday night. I'd hoped he'd wait till Monday morning to drive down to Portland. I wanted one more night with him in bed. Yeah, I know...I'm selfish.

I knew when they called last Thursday night, they'd want him on Monday. Everyone wanted a piece of him, myself included.

And now that he's gone, I can't think of anything else except going down on him. Kissing him, licking him, swallowing him. Every time I start to imagine it I get wet. Sopping, change your panties kind of wet.
It makes me antsy. There's a knot in my gut that physically hurts. A tightness in my chest. My mouth gets dry.

I hate it when he's gone. It brings out all my neediness, my insecurities. I feel unstable. And even though I know he'll be back late Friday night...the weekend will be a blur and I'll be back here sitting alone again.

This sucks.

Friday, August 17, 2012

Pleasure and Pain

Two nights ago H fisted me for the first time(is it just me who dislikes that word?). I wish there was a better term for this type of activity.
We'd tried a few times before but with varying degrees of failure. My body just wouldn't/couldn't cooperate.

If you've never had it done I'm not sure I can describe the simultaneous feeling of pleasure and pain I got from the experience. You know when someone describes pain that hurts "in a good way" it's kinda like that, but better. Much better.

I'd always been curious about fisting. One look at H's hands had kept me from asking for/attempting such a thing for many years. I also wasn't 100% sold on the whole pleasure and pain idea. Although I have a rather high tolerance for pain(suffer from chronic nerve pain due to Lyme) I don't get off on pain. Sure I like to be slapped/spanked/choked a bit but anything harder than that really isn't my thing.

With that said, I do like the "feeling of fullness" that comes from penetrative sex. Is penetrative even a word? ;)
I eventually figured that if I could pass a nearly 9 pound baby(monkey #2) thru my cooch I probably could handle H's fist.

At first H stimulated my g-spot and gave me two strong orgasms to relax and loosen me up(that's #8 & #9 N if you're reading this). Soon H was fucking me with a finger, then two fingers and so on. After awhile I wasn't entirely sure he had his whole hand up there till I checked. Sure enough I could only feel his wrist.

Here's where things get kinda fuzzy. As H started to move his fist inside me, I started to zone out. All I was...was feeling and sensation. As he used his other hand to press down on my pubic bone he gained more leverage to move his other hand. Back and forth rubbing on my g-spot and feeling of full was overwhelming. When I started to climax my muscles clamped down on his hand. We literally moved together in one movement. Two people joined together but really moving as one. The orgasm(#10) was intense and lingered long after he'd slowly removed his hand.
The feeling of fullness lasted quite awhile. I worried things wouldn't contract back down to my normal size. I know this line of thinking is silly, but it doesn't keep me from freaking out a little.

Afterwards, H held me wiping the sweat off my forehead and body. When I needed to pee he helped me walk to the bathroom and stayed to make sure I didn't hurt myself. Sometimes after intense/rough sex I have difficulty walking, talking, etc.
It took awhile before I was aware of my surroundings. I wanted to talk about the experience but I was sleepy and spent. Our talk would have to wait till the next morning.

I definitely think it's something we'll continue to explore. It was such a intimate experience, far more than I'd anticipated.

Thursday, August 16, 2012

The good, the bad and the ugly.

I wish it was easy to do this.
When I decided to restart my blog, I promised myself I'd stop editing and endeavor to be 100% honest.
Even though I've kept that promise in my personal journals, it's been harder than I thought to do it here...anonymous or not. Omitting personal bits and pieces here and there is easy. But they add up.
I told H I wouldn't edit. So I guess I shouldn't be surprised when he called me on my shit the other day. But I was surprised and how strongly he felt about it. He was mad, and didn't hide it.
Even though he called me out on being less than honest, I stalled for a few days about coming clean. Trying to figure out the 'why' of it. Going over in my head how I'd write it.
Last night I finally stopped and realized my lies of omission are hurting me.
I find the following difficult but here goes:

H planned out a very romantic anniversary evening. But really I wasn't feeling it. He'd said a few days before that if I wasn't feeling well, we could push out our "celebration" till that Saturday. Well I wasn't feeling up to celebrating on Tuesday...and I said so. So when he went ahead and planned the evening I felt cornered, like I'd been given a choice but then my answer summarily ignored.
That night after our special dinner and the last minute pick up of our oldest from her pot induced haze, I crawled into bed. When H tried to kiss me I pulled back. I wasn't in the mood and said so. H was at first quiet but then he lost it. Quite literally.

This was new to me. H has never made me feel bad or guilty for rebuffing him. I immediately felt angry. He's told me I can always say no. I didn't understand where his anger was coming from...except sexual frustration maybe.
It's not like we don't have an active sex life(3-5 times a week) or that I'm saying no to his advances all that often.
I do know a great many women who can't say no, however, I'm not one of them.

He expressed his frustration that he'd put a lot of effort into our anniversary evening plans and that I'd been less than receptive. I guess that's true. He seemed to be reading a lot into my rejection. I sincerely was just not in the mood. I was now frustrated and angry that he'd reacted so strongly. As the argument escalated it seemed like we were never going to see eye to eye.

I was confused. Did he really want me to acquiesce to his advances when I didn't want to? This was in complete opposite to what he'd always told me.

Even after a week, I'm still not sure how I feel about this. I think I'll have more to add to this but right now...I'm still confused. How did it get so out of hand?

We both didn't want to go to bed least we both got what we wanted where that's concerned, if nothing else.

Thursday, August 9, 2012

A little goes a long way.

For our 20th wedding anniversary, H planned a wonderful evening.

Rib eye steaks and Cesar salads from our favorite restaurant. A bottle of some good wine. Candles everywhere in the house! Roses too! Sweet!!
And best of all he'd kicked the kids to the curb and told them to get lost for the evening.

The house was quiet and we had a wonderful dinner.

After dinner we're laying in bed, just the night was still early. Not rushing just enjoying the quiet.

Of course not all goes as planned.
Shortly after some wine is consumed(along with a blue pill for added fun), we get a phone call from the oldest monkey.
She's about 35-40 minutes away and needs to be picked up. H asks if she's having car trouble. No. Are you out of gas? No. (this has happened before, ugh) What's the problem then? She's feeling too sick to drive. Then it dawns on us. Are you drunk? No, but I'm really stoned.

Ooookaaay. Well, at least she called I mutter.
By this time H has finished most of the wine and is buzzing. I'd only had half a glass, thankfully.
I throw some clothes on and head out to where she is...pulled over on the highway stoned off her ass. During the 40 minute drive I'm recalling all the times I've driven home from a party stoned or buzzed when I was her age. How stupid and yet lucky I never hurt myself or anyone else for that matter.

I remember vividly one time driving back to my dorm room after a party off campus. My girlfriend and I tried to determine who was less stoned. Seriously, only a conversation two utterly stoned people would have. I'm not even sure how we decided I was the more competent of the two...but I was behind the wheel of a friend's old VW bug trying with all my might to concentrate on the middle line in the road. We were so seriously stoned out of our minds, it would be almost comical except for our shear stupidity.

Now I can't drive after two glasses if wine I'm such a light weight.

When I finally spot kiddo's car, I'm relieved to see she did a decent job pulling over...just like her mom.

She opens up the passenger door looking sheepish.

Me: Hey honey, smoke too much pot, did you?

Kiddo: Yeah mom...sorry.

Me: Baby, don't apologize. I'd much rather you call than drive drunk or stoned.

Kiddo: Thanks for being so cool about it.

Me: Oh honey, been there, totally understand.

Kiddo: God I've never felt so stoned.

Me: Britta had some good pot, huh?

Kiddo: She sure did.

Me: Make sure you drink some water before you hit the hay, ok?

Kiddo: Yeah, I'm really tired.

Me: I bet sweetie. Well, we'll get home and you can pass out. Tomorrow you and Dad can go pick up your car.

Kiddo: Thanks mom. Sorry for ruining your night.

Me: Hey Baby, stop saying sorry. You did good.

We drove home and she dozed off.

The night didn't go quite as planned but whatta you going to do? She passed out on her bed and H and I fell asleep.

Next morning she was all bright eyed and bouncy.
Jeez, I wish I could rebound like a 19 year old.

Tuesday, August 7, 2012

The big 2-0.

Twenty years ago H and I eloped in a tiny and completely empty adobe chapel.

I'd left work the day before, kissing my workmates goodbye and whispering in their ears that I was off to get married.

No one believed me.

That's was ok, I hadn't invited anyone anyway. I just laughed and said they were right...I wasn't getting married. They were confused.
I'm such a brat.

The minister married us in a quick ceremony and after that we were off on our weekend honeymoon.

We stayed in a cheesy B & B on a coastal town in California, but we didn't care.
It had a bed and that's all that mattered.

Wednesday, August 1, 2012

In for a penny in for a pound.

Even though orgasms #4-7 are in my rear view mirror, I'm behind in my homework.

Both monkey girls' birthdays were this week. The girls are 5 years apart and their birthdays are 5 days apart. Certainly not planned that way. Our oldest monkey's due date was still 3 months away when she was born.

It's no surprise that every year around this time I remember how terrified we were when I went into labor with her at 28 weeks. For a week the doctors tried to stave off her birth while pumping me full of steroids to strengthen her little lungs. It was such a blur of doctors, drugs, tests and then an ambulance ride to a hospital more equipped to handle such an early preemie baby.

She just wanted out of the oven...and fast. The doctors did their best...I tried to stay husband and family prayed...but nothing was keeping this kid from popping out 3 months early. She was determined.

She literally was our little slippery monkey at 2 and a half pounds and 19 inches long.

Looking at her today as she blew out her candles you'd never know how traumatic her first 3 months were at the NICU. She's seen the photos and even video of us feeding her and dressing her in baby doll clothes...thank god she'll never know how scared we were. At 25 I didn't know any different till monkey #2 was born 5 years later.

We've been so very blessed.
She leaves for university on an athletic scholarship next month. My little baby.

Life is so amazing.

Friday, July 27, 2012

Orgasms 2-11

First and foremost H wants me to acknowledge that technically my assignment is complete. He gave me 10 orgasms last night.
(He's quite proud and seriously the boy has every reason to be...;)

It doesn't work like that I tell him. I promised N that I wouldn't count my multiple orgasms. So technically that was only #2 and #3. I'm playing by the rules I tell him...I don't cheat. Of course he knows this but loves to tease me. And really...the man was spectacular last night.

Last night...
Our oldest peaked her head in our room and announced dinner would be ready in 15 minutes. H took this as a challenge to get the night going early. After he quietly locked our bedroom door, he pulled my legs closer to the end of the bed, pealing my panties off at the same time.

"We only have 15 minutes," I said eyebrows raised.

"I know, this is gonna be quick."

He wasn't joking. In less than 30 seconds I was coming in his hand VERY loudly. No, I wasn't screaming, but ever since I started squirting late last year it's like a garden hose that you can't shut off.
So when I say "loudly" I mean, the sound effects are well...loud, wet sounding and basically a tad embarrassing, imo. 

Don't get me wrong...I'm pleased as pink that I've learned/relaxed enough to squirt and gush. But this makes for some messy sex. Sometimes, like yesterday, I wanted some good hot car ferry sex. But I'll confess, the thought of gushing everywhere just irritated me.

Ya see, now that my body has learned how to do it...I haven't figured out how to undo it and/or control it. I gush now every time we're sexing. That's a lot of laundry people.

H continues to finger my g spot and pulls a few more orgasms out of me till we hear our youngest yelling "DINNER!"

A quick clean up and change of panties and I'm in the dining room. Monkey #1 made tacos. They were fantastic. I worry we'll miss her cooking as much as we'll miss her when she leaves for university in September. She chides us and says we'll never be able to survive without her. This always makes H laugh.
"Yeah, how will we ever survive without you?" he says rolling his eyes.

"I can't wait for you to leave," teases our youngest. She's probably not lying though. ;)

By almost 11pm the kids were finally settled in their own rooms.
H locked up the house and came in our bedroom grinning. I love him but sometimes he's such a goofball.

After laying down a thick towel he gets to work quickly.

"Who's touching you baby?" he asks.

I'm not really listening, and he repeats himself.

"You are," I whisper.

There's a resounding slap on my pussy. Fuck that feels good.

"No. Who is touching you?" he demands again.

Oh, okay and I remember what he'd requested the another night. H is a self-apprised voyeur.  His request the other night wasn't completely unheard of...

H had requested some role-play for the evening.  I was hesitant but only because I suck kittens at role playing.  Seriously people, I'm no actress.  Never been one to enjoy all or any attention...I prefer to be the quiet perverted wall flower thank you very much.

H has been enjoying my flirtations with N.  He gets a kick outta reading the emails back and forth.  I don't necessarily understand it, but then I'm not quite the voyeur he is.  And truthfully, N's and my correspondence is minimal and quite tame in my view and I suspect N would agree.
But H does know I have an internet crush on N and he loves it.  I don't question it, it just works for us.

He repeats his question...

"N is touching me," I whisper half giggling.

"How is he touching you?" H asks.

"He's fingering me."

"That's right...and how does it feel?"


This back and forth continues for the greater part of an hour.  Each time H questions me, I'm still hesitant to play this role playing game.  H pushes harder each time.  Fuck it's good and aggravating at the same time.  I just want him to fuck me.
He eventually does and I'm spent but wired simultaneously.

I spend the rest of the night reading and finally fall asleep around 6am.

It was a good night.

Wednesday, July 25, 2012

Nothing here people...keep on walking.

H and I had planned to have some hot back seat ferry sex on the way home today.

I had an early doctor appointment and then I wanted to be sure we stopped off at Trader Joe's before we caught the 2:25 ferry. Our refrigerator was pitifully empty.

H was worried our tinted windows wouldn't be enough to hide the fact that we were gonna fuck. Meh, I didn't worry so much. Most people seemed to mind their own business on the ferry.

We waited for the ferry to arrive. H was listening to a ball game and I was reading a biography on Ayn Rand. Did you know that The Fountainhead and Atlas Shrugged still sell over 300,000 copies every year? Jeez, I didn't. I still only have 61* readers following my blog.

The first inkling we had this wasn't gonna happen was when the ferry worker stopped us and had us park in the middle of the ferry. Usually we're always directed to the upper parking areas which are only two lanes of cars and fairly quiet.

Strike one: We're in the middle of four lanes of cars on the ferry. Crap. On every side of our car is a car parked very very close. Mere inches away really.

But H did notice most people were ditching their cars to relax inside the ferry. Okay, I thought...maybe this was still gonna happen.

Strike Two: As soon as we're out in the water the boat starts to roll. Fuck, we're in the wake of some huge container ship. As we pitch to the left, I turn green...not a good sign. I rarely get sea sick on the ferry, but it does happen every blue moon. Shit.

H notices my lovely shade of green and rolls his eyes. I figure he's picturing me puking on his dick instead of sucking on his dick. Not a pretty thought.

Strike three: Some douchebag's car alarm starts going off every 30 seconds. Soon he's at his car fumbling trying to turn it off. But now there's a crowd growing around our car. Everybody assumed it was THEIR car. Come on people!

H asked me if they had read my twitter feed announcing the up coming 'ferry sex'. "Fuck, I don't think so but I've never seen it more crowded."

"Maybe we should have them turn on a spot light and sell tickets?" I smirk.

H isn't feeling my humor. He's been waiting 3 hours for ferry sex.

Five more minutes and we'll be docking.

"Sorry honey, I'll make it up to you tonight, I promise."

Somehow this doesn't seem to placate him. I'll have to think of something good for next time.

*I do have more readers, but only 61 committed readers. Usually I blow past 60 in a day...but hey, I can't ask for a commitment from everyone.

Tuesday, July 24, 2012

An assignment


I'd been desperate for an orgasm all day. Selfishly too. Just wanted my orgasm(s) nothing more really.

H can hit my g spot in such a way that I start to gush right when my orgasm's an amazing feeling.

He wanted to try a new rope corset on me. I agreed and not so patiently waited while he worked. 20 minutes into it, it wasn't working and he gave up.
I jumped up on the bed eager as ever. I think I might have even clapped my hands. What can I say...I'm a dork sometimes.

H laid a towel down on the bed. Like I said, I've been squirting lately...a lot.

He teased me about being excited, but when I grew a bit impatient he immediately pulled out my collar and the leather paddle. I still couldn't stop giggling...and finally when I tried grabbing the paddle with my feet/toes, he just gave up and started laughing. Something we do in bed a lot.

I was still wearing my t-shirt and panties.
But the panties were quickly stripped off and he pushed my t-shirt/tank top up(he's a boob man thru and thru).
He sat to my right side and started rubbing his hands over my breasts, stomach and legs.

I pushed my hips up, in a not so subtle way and he finally started playing with my clit. By now I was starting to get wet. Teasing me he would let one finger slide in, gather moisture and rub my clit some more.
By this time, I'll admit I was close to begging. The words "please" kept coming out of my mouth while my hips were moving up and down.
He knows EXACTLY what I want and when those two fingers started massaging my g spot my brain turned itself off. I can't even describe the feeling. It's like an orgasm that never peaks hard but never stops at the same time. I fucking love it.
His middle and ring finger keep rubbing my g spot and when he starts to pick up the pace I can feel myself start to gush into his hand. He tells me he loves watching me come and when I gush he just smiles.

He continues and this feeling, this orgasm just keeps on coming. I can feel myself squirt. My whole body arches up towards him. Sometimes he'll use his other hand to hold me down by my pubic bone, but this time he just let me arch and bend and pull my legs together when the intensity became to much.
Usually I have to beg him to stop but yesterday afternoon he slowed down after what seemed like my 3rd(maybe 4th) orgasm. What I didn't realize was I'd been holding/rubbing his cock in my right hand the entire time.

The rest?

Well H pushed my legs farther apart and fucked me hard. He tells me that when he fucks me after the g spot orgasms, that I'm swollen and really fucking wet. He says it feels unbelievable(he's a sweetheart). The truth is it feels unbelievable for me as well and doesn't take much to make me orgasm joke. But yesterday I didn't.

After 4 multiple orgasms I was beat...and after he came I rolled over and fell asleep and took a 3 hour nap.

That Mr. N is orgasm #1.

-monkey girl

Monday, July 16, 2012

Pussy shot

our newest addition and concurrently our biggest troublemaker.

Baby at the front window begging Mommy not to leave her home alone.

Saturday, July 14, 2012


Our oldest is back from vacation with her boyfriend's family and our youngest returns tomorrow.

After two weeks of kid free paradise, it's not surprising we forgot to lock our bedroom door this morning.

It's not what you think, you perverts. ;)

I was sticking a needle in H's ass cheek this morning. I hadn't even finished the sentence,
"Did you lock the bedroom do...?" when our oldest knocked.

Now her normal routine is to knock and enter in this almost fluid motion. Fucking drives us crazy and she would almost deserve what she walks in on...almost.

But as soon as we heard the knock we both started screaming,



Not a minute later we open the door, of course she's long gone. Smart kid.

But a few minutes later she walked past our door and told us the oven was beeping. Yet when she turned away, she smirked at me.

Yup, my almost 19 year old gave me that, 'I know what you were doing smirk'.

And like the 21st century Mom that I am, I texted her.

Me: It's not what you think, I was giving Daddy his weekly shot. I'm sure you don't want to see his naked butt.

Kiddo #1: Um...yeah...sure.

Oh well, I tried.

Maybe now she won't just knock and walk in...

Sunday, July 8, 2012

One more orgasm

Only averaging three hours of sleep a night for the last five days she was more than exhausted.

He'd been using her body day and night much to his delight. But she needed a rest. Just a little one she told him as she laid her head down on her pillow.

He smiled and kissed her forehead and tucked her was 4pm Saturday and he was surprised she'd lasted this long.

They were both enjoying this respite from their children. While the kids were away they'd planned to use this time to reconnect.

After 96 hours straight in bed, they'd done just that.

But before real life and commitments would drag them back, he wanted to pull at least one more orgasm out of her depleted body.

He'd used almost every tool from his arsenal from the toy box sans a few.

As he watched her naked form as she slept, he really just wanted to bury his cock in her one last time before they would go out for the evening.

He laid down beside her and started stroking her lithe frame...from shoulder to ass. He could never keep his hands off her full breasts though.

For an Irish girl, she had the palest skin. However, only one generation back her biological father's parents were native American.

This meant during the summers she'd turn the darkest shade of brown as she spent days in the sun. And her areolas are so very large and pale. Her nipples just barely a shade darker. They reminded him of the photos of African women in the pages of National Geographic.
After nursing two babies they were full and heavy. He loved to squeeze them. Suck on them till they were so very tender.

As his cock began to rise his touch became more urgent.
She moaned as he squeezed her breasts again. He ran his hand between her legs pulling her wetness from front to back.

Suddenly she felt the head of his cock pressing against her ass. He slid in so easily. Holding one hand on her neck and the other on her hip he rocked with her body back and forth.
With his hand on her hip he moved her right leg back and slightly open. Taking the 7 inch vibrating dildo he eased it in her cunt and turned it on.

She bucked forward sharply and quickly he grabbed her hips and put his mouth to her ear,
"Shhh, be still" he whispered.

He could feel the vibrations from the dildo in her cunt. He didn't think it was possible to get much harder.

As he started to move in earnest her moans became louder.

"Fuck!" she yelled.

She felt so tight, he could only imagine how full she felt. Even with what he assumed was an overload of sensations, she worked his cock, squeezing her muscles tightly around him. He knew he wouldn't last long at this rate.

Finally rolling on top of her, he began to pound away in earnest, trying desperately to pull that last orgasm out of her. Pulling her up, he wrapped his arms around her. At last he was able to squeeze those nipples.
As he squeezed harder she bucked under him...he knew she was close.

He knew her trigger and leaned over and bit her back hard. That was all it took. She convulsed and came hard screaming.

She collapsed on the bed, twitching ever so slightly every minute or so like she always did after coming hard.

He eased out of her and then gently removed the vibrator. After using the bathroom to clean up, he returned with a warm washcloth and gingerly cleaned her as well.

"You didn't come" she said.

"No sweetheart, I'm saving myself for later."

"In your dreams baby" and then she rolled over and fell asleep.

Saturday, July 7, 2012

Naked 24/7

H and I are going on day 4 sans kiddos.
It's just H and I...and the dog, cat and new kitten(which it a bit like having a baby in the house).

But I digress. When H and I would lay in bed and imagine what our life would be like once the kids leave the nest, I'd always tell H that I'd imagine there wouldn't be much need for clothes at home.

Let me backtrack a bit. Currently, monkey girl tends to run around the house in a t-shirt and panties. H doesn't seem to mind, I find it comfortable, the work I do do...I do from home.
So the transition to zero clothes at home isn't much of a stretch really, if you think about.

True I have to grab my robe when the ups guy/mail lady is at the door, but really it's no big me.
That said, H often reminds me that "pants/skirts" aren't a bad thing. I know 50% of him is teasing(I think)...cause my ass does tend to get more attention when I'm running around in my panties.

Well it's day 4 without the girls, like I said, and just as I thought, I've been naked 24/7. It's kinda fun and liberating in a way.

With that said, the only difference is(and I'm not complaining or exaggerating) H has been all over me 24/7.
Finally last night I told him to give the poor girl(me) a break. I'm a wee bit sore in the nether regions.

My ass is dragging cause it's barely been out of bed in 96 hours, except to shower and pee.
We've even been eating all our meals in bed(H has been cooking). Yay!

Today I actually have to get up and dressed...cause we're going to a sex club tonight. ;)

But more about that later.

Wednesday, July 4, 2012

Happy 4th

One kiddo flew south yesterday to visit family and friends. Other kiddo flies east tomorrow with boyfriend & his family for vacation.

We hardly see the oldest at all anymore and by September she'll be at university.
She's already gone for the day and most of the evening.

H and I will be truly alone for the next few weeks.

Oh the possibilities.

Monday, July 2, 2012

Monkey Girl 101

These last 5 nights H has been experimenting with monkey girl's body.

Now it should be said that, monkey girl is in full swing pre-menopause. Yes, she's only 42, but after her surgery at 32, her doctors told her she should expect to be catapulted into early menopause... fun times!!

In the last year, monkey girl has discovered that her pre-menopausal body is one finicky bitch.

Yes, her skin has gotten thinner, and she's even noticed a few age spots on her hands...ick.

The biggest problem? Sex.

She first noticed changes while masturbating. All those rote ways that brought monkey girl to orgasm like clock work started failing big time.
Sure, her brain could still muster up the usual orgasm fantasy...but no matter how hard she tried those fingers of hers just couldn't get the job done.

It wasn't for lack of trying. However, when her fingers went all numb and tingly and got seriously pruney after THIRTY minutes of trying, she finally gave up. Thank god for the hitachi or she'd be an unsatisfied nervous train wreck.

Now recently, monkey girl recorded a few orgasms for Nlikes. He asked for an offering so nicely, monkey girl really couldn't refuse. Now if you read N's lead up to her orgasm audio, there's no mistaking/ignoring N's comments on HOW LONG it took monkey girl to come. Now she's got nothing to compare it too, but 5-6 minute average doesn't seem like a marathon.

It's no secret that monkey girl adore N's writing @ My Dissolute Life, so if you haven't checked him out, she can't sing his praises highly enough. Seriously hot, smart writing people. Monkey girl isn't one to get all gushy but his deep introspection is hot too in monkey girl's opinion.

Now of course, H noticed the changes in monkey girl's body. Besides taking longer to get those old juices flowing...H couldn't bring monkey girl to orgasm. Every tried and true routine failed miserably.
Monkey girl assured H he still had his mojo, and kept reiterating it had to be her body's fault. Something was amiss.

H can only be selfish in the sex department for so long before one would suspect he feels guilty? And the hitachi can't be a permanent substitute for the real thing.

So last Wednesday night H announced he was starting an experiment on monkey girl. O.O really?

So began...Monkey Girl 101.

Introduction to relearning monkey girl's body.

Being the recipient of this course has been enlightening, exciting, and down right enjoyable(and that's putting in mildly).

note...please forgive the switch to 1st person but monkey girl couldn't help it!!

It culminated last night with what I have to describe as the most intense(and longest) orgasm I think I've EVER had(I say "think" only because my memory of our first 2 years together is a blur of nonstop fucking).

It can only be described as my first whole body orgasm. Literally everything contracted. My uterus continued to contract for about 5 minutes afterward. All this left me completely exhausted, fuzzy in the brain...and like a total guy, I rolled over and fell asleep. ;)
Later in the wee hours of the morning, H woke me up and we started all over again.

As you can imagine, monkey girl woke up this morning tired, sore but very very happy and oh so satisfied...and H? Well, he was quite pleased with himself.

Who wouldn't?

Friday, June 29, 2012

Date nite...part ii

Now that H had me bound to the bench, I could tell he wanted to take his time.

After every hit with the paddle he'd rub his other hand over my warmed skin. Massaging it. Playing with it.

Some smacks on the backs of my thighs made me want to arch my back, but I literally had no wiggle room. A sheen of sweat began to appear on my back. I was completely unable to guess where his next strike would be.

Finally after what seemed ages he asked me if I'd had enough.

"Yes", I whimpered.

The paddle hit the ground with a thud. And then I could hear the unmistakable sound of his pants opening.

No lead up...he placed his hands on my hips and slammed himself into me.
I screamed. God it felt good. Even as his fingers dug into my hips painfully, it felt exquisite.

After a few minutes H slowed down and untied me from the bench.

Slowly, he guided me to our bed and cut off all the rubber tape with a knife. Everything came off except the collar.

Tired and sweaty he laid down beside me and we rested for awhile.

When I turned to look at him he was smiling. I knew what he was thinking...I was thinking it too.

"Jeez, we're getting old" I said.

"Getting? We're there babe" he smiled.

The girls were going to be home soon. H cleaned up the living room and I put my nightshirt on.

By the time they came home, I was half asleep and H was watching wimbledon.

Later that night, H woke me up and slowly entered me from behind. This time taking his time. Just us. Even after 20 years it's still wonderful, he still makes me feel like no other.

Next date night is Saturday.
Dinner out in the city. Can't wait.

Thursday, June 28, 2012

Date night.

H had warned me ahead of time not to plan anything...he'd made plans and as soon as he'd shuttled(aka shoved) the girls out of the house, he announced it was date night.

20 minutes later he popped into our bedroom.

"Do I need to change?" I asked. I was only wearing a t-shirt and undies.

"Nope" he smirked.

He grabbed my hand and escorted me to the dining room.
It wasn't until I attempted to sit at my regular seat(the chair to the right of the head of the table) that I noticed the table was only set for only one.

"No no, sit here" he motioned, and sat me at the head of the table.

He left for a moment and returned with my collar and wrist restraints.
Alrighty, I thought, dinner was going to be different tonight...very different.

I lowered my chin as he put on my collar. I noticed a bottle of my favorite Sauvignon Blanc.
After putting on my wrist restraints, he clipped them together behind the back of my chair. Now I understood the single place setting(I can be slow at times).

He came back from the kitchen with a plate of my favorite chicken salad....and began to slowly feed me. I have to confess by this time, I wasn't the least bit hungry. I was anxious to know what else was planned for the evening. I asked repeatedly but he wasn't giving anything up.

Two thirds thru dinner I told him I was stuffed.

He had me finish my glass of wine and then wiped my mouth with a napkin.
He then turned my chair towards him.

First came the blindfold...but I have to tell you this blindfold also covers my ears and makes it harder for me to hear.
He unclips my wrists and guides me to the living room.

"Kneel" he said.

As instructed I kneel and once again he clips my wrists together.
The first thing I notice is how rough our living room rug is...and I'm already thinking how bad the rug burn is going to be. Rug burn can really smart like the dickens.

He removes my shirt and applies the alligator clamps. Jeez, I forgot how much they can hurt. I breathe thru the pain and try to get comfortable.

I can hear some rustling and then he tells me he'll be right back.

And then it hits me....fuck. I don't want to be left alone. Logically I know I've nothing to fear. But clearly logic wasn't working, and I can feel panic starting to rise up my throat.

"Please don't leave me alone" I whisper. My insecurity embarrasses me. I'm trying to listen carefully. I feel the first pang of a panic attack. He returns just in time, thank god.

"You didn't think I was going to leave you, did you?" he asked.

"No, not really" I muttered.

Before I can give any thought about the panic attack, I can feel him wrapping my right leg with something...but what?

By the time he starts on my left leg I'm 99% sure he's wrapping me with our pink or purple plastic tape. It's on a roll like duck tape but it's not sticky...meant to tie someone up for fun/sex. Well, at least that's what we've always used it for.

But he's wrapping me up like a mummy. Legs, torso, but leaving my breasts free by criss-crossing the tape between them.
It's an interesting feeling and I'm sure I look like either a pink or purple mummy. I'm glad I'm blindfolded and can't see at this point...cause I'm sure I look down right ridiculous.

H sees the look on my face and whispers in my ear that I look beautiful. I highly doubt this but say nothing.

I can feel him position a pillow behind me and he lowers me back onto my elbows.

He removes my panties, and separates my legs. Yup, completely exposed, sprawled out on the living room rug. Good grief.

I start to wonder how long the girls will be gone when I feel his fingers start to play with me. Soon all thoughts are gone.

Really he's toying with me. I start to wiggle but he places his hand on my pubic bone and holding me down. With his other hand finds my g spot and he starts to rub. I squirm and moan. He knows exactly what he's doing and I'm loving it.

Just about when I think I'm going to come, he stops. What? Wtf?

He stands me up, I'm unsteady and at that moment breathing rather hard. He's saying something, but my mind is somewhere else.
Finally he takes one hand on my back and the other on my front...

"Lean over" he says.

I'm confused. Lean over what? He continues to lean me over. Finally my front comes in contact with some thing soft...pillows. He leaning me over the Chinese bench from the living room...he's placed pillows on it for comfort(I assume).

Once he has me positioned, each arm and leg are strapped to a corresponding bench leg. Hence, my bare ass is in the air. Not an unusual sight, but it's been awhile.

To be honest, I thought he was going to play with me then fuck me. But as the first thwap! hits my bare bum, I know he's got different ideas.

Really almost no warm up. Just his right arm and the leather paddle.

to be continued...

Tuesday, June 26, 2012

Working on happy.

H has stayed close these past few days. Keeping an eye on me, pulling me in close to tell me how much he loves me. Holding me tight, the tighter the better.

After therapy today I was weepy. He took me out for a late lunch and then drove me home and tucked me into bed.

It's true I often allow myself to get mired down with life, problems, people, etc...

Sometimes I wish there was a button on me that I could push that would bring me back to the present, remind me of all the good I have in my life.

Sadly, sometimes I need that constant reminder. My filter that keeps out the bad and unnecessary thoughts, isn't working properly right now. I'm not sure why, but with the help of H and my therapist we're trying to figure it out.

H knows me all too well when I'm like this, he keeps me close, watching carefully so I don't lose my step. Trip up and fall.

He knows where my head goes. I worry that I'm too much work for him. Too high maintenance. Too needy.
But he reminds me he loves me this way...just the way I am...fucked up neediness and all.

He just wants me to be happy.

Monday, June 25, 2012


There's been a lot of talk lately about that word, unconditional.

Unconditional love. And to be honest, I've always doubted it's existence.

H and I have stayed up till 3am the last three nights in a row discussing it at length. We're not as young as we used to be and our asses have been dragging all weekend.

It's hard for me to wrap my head around what it means to love another unconditionally.

Perhaps because of my beginnings, my childhood, it's made me doubt whether unconditional love for another is possible. I don't know for sure but I suspect that's the case.

If there ever was an unconditional love, it would have to be what a mother feels for her child.

I feel that for my children. How can I not? They are a piece of me. No matter what their faults, what their crimes I'd never stop loving them.

So when H looks at me...sees my faults, knows my sins and loves me still, how can I doubt him when he says he loves me unconditionally?

Well I did. I did doubt him...

Then over this weekend, H laid me out on our bed and opened me up. Over several hours each nite he pulled out all my transgressions...everything...and then told me he loves me still. Has loved me always.

I can't even put into words the depth of feelings he elicited from me. My body feels like it has been crying for three straight days.

I felt so raw and open those two nights. Everything inside of me hurt.

And then finally last night he began to put me back together. Reminding me every bit of the way that he loves me...unconditionally.

I think I'm starting to believe him...and it feels like nothing I've known before.

Wednesday, June 20, 2012

So tired.

You'd never think I could write a full post about how tired I am. But seriously I could.

I dream so much. Always have.

Last night I dreamt I walked all over the City(I dream about the City often). I was looking for a piece of stolen furniture. I'll have to look that one up to analyze, because it was so surreal.

It was an antique Chinese alter table. Now who stole it, I'm not sure...but it took my whole dream to find it. With the help of this sweet Japanese girl, we found the piece in an out of the way antique shop between 39th & 40th ave.

Now if you know the City that's way out in the sunset district. The likelihood of an antique store way out there is a little unlikely.

After I found it, the rest of the dream was waiting on my father to show up to retrieve the piece of furniture. He needed directions, and here is where the dream turned into a nightmare.

I couldn't remember his phone number(a common element in my dreams) and he didn't understand my directions...which is weird because the man had the most unbelievable sense of direction. Thankfully I got that trait from him.

The more I tried to give him directions the angrier he got, hence the more frustrated I got...and scared. He rarely ever became truly angry in real life.

I felt horrible.

I woke up sooo tired and achey. Like I'd walked all night...and I my dream.

Sometimes I wish I could just have a nice sex dream...but those are few and far between, darn it.

At least if I woke up tired from a great sex dream I'd feel like I accomplished something.

Instead I'm searching for fucking furniture.


Monday, June 18, 2012

My Father.

It's been 20 years since my Father passed away at 51.

That first father's day without him was gut wrenching.
His gravestone had just been finished and placed. I laid on the grass next to him that entire afternoon.

Yesterday H and the monkeys went to the Giants game. Yes, I could have gone, but H knows me so well. He knows that even though it's been 20 years, father's day is still hard for me.

I certainly didn't want to rain on H's fun day. And over the years, baseball games have become a father/daughter pass time.

My Father was truly a renaissance man.
One of a kind.

Brilliant...holds several patents and pioneered the silicon valley, literally(before there was any Bill Gates or Steve Jobs).

Talented...played the piano. Oh, how I loved the lay under the piano and listen to him play. Clair de Lune will always be our favorite. avid wood worker and furniture maker. His pieces are extraordinary.

Funny...but in such a dry, dark way. Most of my humour comes from him.

Loving...he loved me unconditionally.

Adventurous...he took me around the world and shared with me his love of different cultures.

In those short 51 years, my Father accomplished a lot.

But being my Father was his greatest gift to me.

I was his joy.

I still am.


Saturday, June 16, 2012

Gasp, mg fucks up.

Today H and I ran errands. Target(smile), shoe store(big smile), drug store, grocery store, etc...

All was going really well. Managed to pick up some super cute new summer shoes! Pick up pretty new mixing bowls for the kitchen.
Really had nothing to complain about. H was particular mellow and quite pleasant actually. (the monkeys are taking him to the Giants game tomorrow for Father's Day---he's a very happy H).

While waiting the the pharmacist to fill some prescriptions, H overheard the pharmacist assistant say she could give me an 'emergency fill' because I actually had no refills remaining for my thyroid medication.
I smiled and thanked her.
All of a sudden H leans in and semi-whispers in my ear, "that's strike number two little lady, wanna go for number three?"

Gasp. Number two? Wait, what was number one?!?

I could tell by his look, he was serious. I suddenly felt like a chastised little girl. My stomach fell.

We were still supposed to go for an nice early dinner, but suddenly I wasn't so hungry.

H was still looking at me rather pissed.

It took me awhile to register what was wrong. No matter how smart I might think I am, sometimes I can be rather slow.

Duh. The thyroid meds. The doctor said I can't ever skip a day. If I hadn't let it go till the last day, on a Saturday no less, the pharmacist wouldn't be having to give me an emergency fill for a couple days.

A few months ago, I'd forgotten to pick up my refill and ended up missing 2 days. H was furious when he found out. You would think I'd learned my lesson...or at least remember to pick up my meds on my own. ;)
Apparently, that was strike number one. Today was number two.

H then proceeded to talk to me as if I was 2. I was just thankful no one but the pharmacist overheard.

"Do I need to take control of your medication too?"

Now, I'm not about to argue with him, but really he already controls most of my other medications because I've proven myself "irresponsible"...i.e. not remembering times and days. My thyroid medication is truly one of the few meds he doesn't monitor.

If I'm honest with myself, I like that he has that control. I know he cares about my health and well being.

I don't like that he's disappointed and upset at me. That part I could do without.

Now physical punishment has never been part of our dynamic.

Secretly though, I sometimes wish it was, at least that way my guilt might be somewhat assuaged.

Even though it felt wrong, when H whispered in my ear my indiscretions, and appeared to be threatening punishment, my arousal felt so much stronger than my guilt.


Thursday, June 14, 2012

The wind of my soul.

The house is quiet now. The week's worth of house guests gone.

In the flurry of all the hullabaloo I heard a few whispered snippets of conversations between H and our oldest's Godfather. Too busy to give them much thought I pushed those overheard words into the back of my mind. Way back. They were too much to even consider with a houseful of family and friends. But I heard them all the same.

As a child I dreamed of houses with white picket fences. No doubt my years in foster care & group homes; being moved around with no sense of home, made my dreams of a forever home all the more vivid. Necessary.

Surprisingly in the last 20 years, I've lived the life of a gypsy...not alone of course, but with H and our 2 monkeys.

I don't know what changed my dream of white picket fences, but somehow something changed inside me. We've moved often, never staying one place too long. Perhaps, moving around during those formative years engrained itself in my being. Maybe I am a gypsy after all.

These last 7 years in the Pacific Northwest have been our longest stay a good 3 years.

So when I heard cities and countries being mentioned earlier this week, of course I thought, here we go again.

But that antsy feeling I'd get when we've lived somewhere 2 years didn't happen and still hasn't. I don't feel ready to move yet, I'm really liking it here.

H is trying to dangle a few carrots(countries) in front of me. I see through his ruse. He knows my weaknesses.

Although I know the final decision doesn't lie with me, I know he'd rather me be on board with such a life changing decision.
Ultimately he wants me to be happy too.

I wonder which way the wind is going to blow this summer...and whether we'll be changing direction with it.

Sunday, June 10, 2012

Family bus-i-ness.

I'll apologize now for the following rambling post.

We're down to just one house guest. This time tomorrow we'll be down to none. Woohoo!!

The MIL left this morning. As soon as she was off to the airport, I laid my head on my pillow and slept for six hours. I was so tired and my muscles finally just gave out.

Monkey #1's graduation was a success. Even the rain held off till the very end.
Afterwards, she ran off to celebrate grad nite out on the Sound with 300+ kids on a cruise ship while the rest of us went out to Thai food. Yummy!

After picking her up at the ferry at 5:30am the next morning, we let her sleep for 6 hours before we met everyone for a lovely graduation brunch.

All weekend I'd been doing my best to be amenable towards the MIL.
But geez, she makes it so hard. It's been 7+ years since her last 1.5-2 day visit. I guess I'm blessed she doesn't visit often or for very long. Still it's amazing how stressful those visits can be regardless.

Over brunch, I heard her talking with my mother. I only caught bits and pieces of the conversation...tried my best to tune her out.
Later, in the car, my mother told me that she(the MIL) "holds my mother responsible" for us(H & i) getting married. That she felt my mother had pushed us to marry. Can I just say now...WTF?

My mother took it in stride and laughed at such a silly statement/accusation. Saying that she had nothing to do with our wedding...and really she didn't. By the time we married, we'd been living together for four years. Marriage was very much on the radar.

It's too bad that she feels she has to hold other people responsible for her son's decisions. Perhaps it makes her feel better thinking that...I don't know.

What I do know is H has always made his own decisions. Never consults with anyone. He's a no nonsense kinda guy and once a decision has been made, that's it. He never waivers, or if he does, He doesn't show it, or I just don't see it.

H was aware that his mother(and father) were not happy about his impending marriage to me. Apparently they made that clear just prior to me walking down the isle. Of course I knew none of this at the time. H has confessed his biggest regret was telling me(a few years later) that they tried to talk him out of it at the very last minute.
I wasn't surprised that they disliked me but it hurt to know the lengths they went to get H to change his mind. H thought it was all rather funny(in a sick way) but when he saw how hurt I was after telling me, he instantly regretted telling me.

Ultimately this is what makes her visits so unpleasant and stressful for me. That after nearly 20 years of marriage she still seems to hope that H will come to his senses at divorce me. That i still don't measure up to her standards. This of course, is just my opinion.

My feelings are still hurt, even after all these years.

The only bright side to this fiasco is that we won't see her for another 7+ years.

Maybe the explanation is as simple as... that I'm a crazy Californian girl and he's a mid-western boy.

I guess I'll never truly know why she dislikes me so. But she sure does, and that's the truth.

Thursday, June 7, 2012

Friends, relatives, MIL...oh my

If there was ever a time I felt like would be now.

The wicked witch of the west is arriving tomorrow.

I'm hoping the rest of my family and friends will be enough of a barrier/buffer from her snide underhanded remarks.

I'll keep you updated.

Wish me luck.

Tuesday, June 5, 2012

Moving forward using all my breath

It was a particularly hard session with the therapist today. Lots a tears.

So much is going on with monkey's graduation, out of town guests flying in, H's three hour MRI yesterday.
It's been a lot to handle.

As normal, I'm internalizing it all and it's coming out as queasiness x1000 with a migraine that's just sitting behind my eyes. Actually threw up at the hospital yesterday while waiting for H to finish up his brain MRI. Managed to make it to the bathroom in time.

I've barely eaten anything since last Friday.

All this and I also managed to alienate a follow blogger...which is a first for me.

We'd emailed each other a bit but I knew it was only a matter of time before I stuck my foot in my mouth but good.

Now there's this unbelievably loud silence.
I thought at the very least we could be blogger friends. It hurts a bit knowing someone out there doesn't even want to speak to you.
Still not sure what I did to deserve the zero communication edict.

And because we really don't know one another, I can only speculate that my perceived craziness scared said blogger away...for good.

I am a wee bit crazy. A bit quirky too. But by no means did I mean to offend.
If I did, I'm truly sorry. If its because I comes across as a lunatic...well I can't help that.
Most people who know me say I have a good heart. I try.

I see my therapist again next Tuesday and by then all our house guests will have flown home.

I suspect I'll have lots to talk through and hopefully any weekend drama will have been small and manageable. At the very least I'm sure there will be some entertaining moments.

Here's hoping.

Monday, June 4, 2012

An exercise in futility.

As the day wore on, and my headache grew, what I was preparing for...well let's just say, that fact that it was an exercise in futility wasn't lost on me.

I could already feel myself getting worked up.
Stressing about something I had literally no control over. Of course that's never stopped me before.

I started to feel tight and thin...overly stretched. Now I recognise this feeling.

More than once yesterday H told me to go lay down. I didn't want to, there was so much work to be done before the hoards descended.

He eventually gave me that stern look and I scurried off into the bedroom. He came in later and actually laid down with me till I settled(and then fell asleep).

Three hours later I woke and I realised how much I needed that nap. To just close my eyes and forget everything.

But now it's back to the grind of preparing the house for guests.

The first houseguest arrives on Wednesday. Everyone will be in town by Friday. Ugh, I already feel queasy.

I love these people, really I do. But it never ceases to amaze me how stressed out I get. That feeling that I'll have to entertain these people.

I just wish it was already next week, ya know?

Saturday, June 2, 2012

The collar.

The collar made an appearance yesterday.

H seemed so pleased with himself when he adjusted it around monkey girl's neck.

He yanked and pulled on the it, turning monkey girl this way and that. And really she just loved it.

"I do like the look of you in a collar," he said.

Monkey girl was more than a bit surprised. Wrist and ankle restraints and the collar(and such) are only used at playtime.

But nothing else was pulled from the toy box, only the collar.

It felt different.

Monkey girl could tell H's mind was spinning.
She wondered what plans were behind that sadistic grin.

After 20 minutes though, she didn't wonder anymore.

Monkey girl's head was too fuzzy to think.

Friday, June 1, 2012

Playing hooky.

@807 E. Roy St & Harvard

Thursday, May 31, 2012


She finally rang me yesterday.

I'd expected crying, remorse even...but instead she expressed her outrage.

4 days in county lock-up and she's still not hit her bottom.

I listened for 2+ hours yesterday as she rationalized her behavior, actions...and drinking.

I'm at a crossroads in this relationship/friendship. I know this.

I gave her the name of an excellent therapist(in her area) and told her she needed more help than I can offer.

I know I am her last friend.
All the rest drew their line in the sand long ago...along with most of her family.

And that's where my guilt lies. I'm the only one who will listen and be listened to.
That's a heavy burden.

I'd hoped she'd finally hit bottom.

I guess it was not meant to be.
I'm scared of how much farther she'll sink.

Hitting bottom now seems so elusive.

Wednesday, May 30, 2012

All quiet on the western front.

This morning at 2:30am little monkey and H left for the airport.

Monkey #2 has her Washington DC class trip this week. And H scheduled his meeting in the Bay Area today so they could leave together. One going east, the other south.

So I woke up this morning and the house was sooo quiet. Monkey #1 is such an adult now, I rarely see her really.
So it's just me...and the dog and the cat until late tonight when H gets home from his day trip.

With monkey #1's high school graduation in two weeks I should be scrubbing the house from top to bottom. The MIL will be coming! Yikes!

But I'm not. It's still early afternoon and I've only gotten out of bed to let the dog out and make some tea(PG Tips w/milk, of course).

So I've been reading some of my favorite blogs, one in particular and keeping myself busy...*cough* ...masturbating...all morning. (monkey girl is smiling and blushing)

My left index and middle finger have been wet for hours they're actually prune-y.

I didn't know that could actually happen.

Who knew?

Tuesday, May 29, 2012

All or nothing.

I tend to be a contradiction.

Some days I can be rambunctious, flirty, bawdy even.
Some days I'm quiet, introspective, serious and even sad.

Depending on the day you meet me can make all the difference in the world. If your confident, strong and assertive and I'm having a quiet day then often you'll see the real me.

If you're drawn to my strength and energy, the likelihood is we'll have fun for awhile but won't be a match. I can't keep that energy going 24/7.

By no means am I an emotional roller coaster...I'm just me. Fucked up me.

I just can't hide behind any facade. It's all out there for everyone to see.

I've never understood how people can protect themselves from getting hurt...protecting their heart.
We all get hurt. It happens.
But denying something your heart may want for fear of it breaking??
I don't understand That.

How do you know you'll be hurt? Perhaps you won't.
Perhaps it will be wonderful.
And if it is wonderful and later you get hurt...would you give up the wonderful to avoid the hurt?
I can't. I won't.
I'll take the wonderful and the hurt.

Some of my most painful relationships have also been my favourite. Strange I know. And I don't view myself as a masochist.

I can't dip my toe into the water to test it out. I just jump in, clothes and all. Give it all to me or give me nothing.

Some of these relationships burned so bright. Too bright probably.
Probably why they burned out so fast.

But oh when they felt soooo good.
I wouldn't give that up just to avoid the pain in the end.

I wouldn't know how anyway.

Monday, May 28, 2012


There's a special beach on Puget Sound we like to go to.
It's long and pebble-y. And the just opens up to the entire Sound. Really it's gorgeous.

The driftwood could be more described as logs one could build a house with. And there are many interestingly built structures on the beach. None that one should live in(or go in for that matter). Let's just say, monkey girl knows an architect and a good builder when she sees one. And they don't build on this beach.
But they are beautiful to look at and the dog goes crazy when he finds people in them.

Most times we walk the entire length of the beach and find a quiet spot to stop, rest, relax, maybe read and watch the dog go nuts chasing the tide.

Being there always reminds monkey girl of her favorite beach. Makes her kinda home sick for California.
But she loves it up here too and doesn't want to move anytime soon(there's been quiet talk of another move and that's got her scared, but that's another post altogether).

After we packed up and headed home, the monkeys started arguing in the back seat, the dog started barking and monkey girl just sighed.

Guess the day was over and real life came screaming back...literally.

Friday, May 25, 2012


I'm not sure where this post will go but her story needs a happy ending.

I was adopted one month before school started. She and I met the first day of school and have remained friends ever since.

She's known me one month less than my parents, same with her Mom and Dad, who are very much like my second set of parents. They even grounded me when we had a party at their house when we were 17.

I love them and I love her.

She, too, was adopted and we felt very much like sisters. We loved and hated. Laughed and cried. Did drugs and had sex. Toyed with boyfriends and girlfriends. Got married and had babies. We've been through a lot. Together.

She's nearing bottom...or at least I hope so this time. Cause next time she might not survive the fall. And I don't know if I can be there to pick up the pieces.

She's been spiraling for years. I guess at first I didn't really want to see it. We all drank socially, but I kinda knew she always took it a step too far. She was the kind of person who always did everything at 100mph.
She used to be a funny drunk, years ago. Those days are long gone.

The thing is she's not just an alcoholic. She's bi-polar. I should know, my mother is. I saw it in her when we were still in high school. God, her highs were high. People tended to flock towards her in her manic phases. She was fun. But those same people were never there during her lows. And god, her lows...she often was suicidal. She never saw any worth in her eyes. Never saw how beautiful she was.

I know the drinking was her form of self-medicating. And it seemed to help for awhile. Masking her symptoms.

She would never entertain any discussion that involved seeking help or therapy. Even though she knew I was in therapy on and off from the time I was 18 and saw all the good it did for me.

Once her husband started drinking everything just escalated. I'm not his biggest fan. He'd always been verbally abusive(imo) with her even before they married and had kids.

I was always an ear to listen and a shoulder to cry on...while I tried to encourage her to love herself. Told her she deserved better. She never seemed to think so. I could feel how much she hated herself.

Three years ago the physical abuse started...from what she's told me and from what I've seen. Her parents have intervened, the cops called, arrests made, all the while she returns to him...with the kids.

Her parents are in counseling. I suspect they are already mourning the loss of their daughter.

We all keep waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Tuesday night she called. Things were bad. She'd packed up the kids and walked out. Only to return later that evening.

It's Friday night, and I haven't heard a word. Calls go straight to voicemail. Texts go unanswered. I know this isn't good.

I called her Mom tonight. She's been in jail since Wednesday. No one knows all the details yet.

As much as I love her and want her to be okay, I hope this is her bottom.

Still learning.

It's hard for me to remember sometimes that he doesn't need a caretaker. He needs me to be his lover.

I'm not supposed to solve his emotional needs. Just his physical ones.

It something I'm still learning...even after all these years.

I know why I'm wired this way but god it's a hard habit to break.

Thursday, May 24, 2012


It's always something I wish I had endless supplies of...sadly I don't.

Sometimes I get greedy.
I want what I want and I don't want to wait.

Many times all you need to do is whisper it in my ear.


There is a tone you use that makes it sound so sexy.
That if I'm a good girl and be patient you'll do naughty things to my body.

My breath hitches and my body starts to tingle.

And surprisingly I become very patient.

I'm always confused how my body responds to just one word.

Tuesday, May 22, 2012

All trussed up...

It never escapes my notice that when we're having trouble communicating, there's always more sex.

I'm not all.

Monday, May 21, 2012

It's not all bad...

After a few private inquires yesterday and today I thought I would just give everyone a brief update.

Is my marriage on the rocks?
Yes, we're going through a rough patch but I have sincere hope that eventually H and I will work this of through.

In the two decades of being together we've only discussed separating once, and it was a serious discussion. With couples therapy and lots of hard work we stayed together. It took at a year to get back on track.

Are we at that spot yet? I don't really think so.

After four years of intense Lyme treatment I've hit what my Lyme doctor calls a plateau or kind of remission from chronic Lyme. Am I cured? No. But I'm no longer in aggressive antibiotic therapy and now am on what she refers to as 'maintenance therapy'.
This is the difference between taking 6,000-8,000mg of antibiotics daily to 300-500mg of antibiotics daily.
There is a huge difference. Trust me.

Lyme has, in the last four years, destroyed my thyroid(2 surgeries, now removed). Pushed my body into early menopause. Cost us enormous sums of money on doctor visits and meds. I don't actually like to dwell on the cost of my sickness as it puts me in a foul mood.

Most importantly it's robbed me of my energy. On the worst of days I would sleep for 17-18 hours. On the best, a 3 to 4 hour nap would suffice.

Needless to say it's affected my relationships with my husband, children, family and friends. I've felt very much like the 'absent mother', wife, friend, etc. There is still much guilt that torments me daily. I've been in therapy most of the time and my guilt is a constant source of discussion w/my therapist.

H has been nothing but supportive during this entire time. He has stepped up when I couldn't. He was put work aside to be with me at every doctor appointment, every blood draw, every IV infusion, every ER nightmare, etc. He has always been there for me.

He has cooked, cleaned, done laundry when I was too tired to get out of bed. He has stood in the shower and washed me when my arms and hands hurt too much. Brushed my hair, dressed me, cared for me in every conceivable way.

This kind of love is so rare. I know this. And this is how I know we'll work through this new adjustment period while I start becoming me again.

Me, monkey girl, the wife, mother, lover, artist, friend, sister....not 'sick monkey girl'.

Thank you for your best wishes, they are treasured beyond measure.

Sunday, May 20, 2012

Getting what I want...but not what I need

There is often such a big disconnect between getting what you want versus what you need. At times, for me the difference can be as wide as the Grand Canyon and often just as deep and rugged.

Yesterday afternoon H gave me what he thought I wanted but not what I needed. And this is where we're having such a big disconnect in our relationship.

Sometimes it's easier for me to write him a letter, most times handwritten. However he was going to be out town the entire day so I wrote him an email to read while he was away.
In my email, I explained to him where I am. How I've become lost. Why I need him now more than ever to find me again. To not give up on me.

I gave H specifically, in list form, what I needed from him. In our 20 years I have never done this...told him what I needed to make US work.

We seem to be faltering lately. I've already started weekly therapy again. She had asked me what I needed from H that he wasn't providing. I couldn't answer her at the time. I needed time to think and I guess decipher the difference between my wants vs. my needs.

It took a couple a days for me to even be okay asking these things from him/of him. He already provides me with so much. Am I just being needy? Or greedy? It took those days to figure it out. To be okay with it. And then a few more to articulate them in writing. I didn't want to come off demanding or defensive. I wanted to be strong with my words. Concise.
My biggest fear was he'd dismiss my email as being overly emotional. Thus the list.

I won't lie and say we've never been 'here' before. When I was pregnant w/monkey #2 we almost split up. Got as far as discussing the logistics of how it would work raising two girls in two separate households. But we eventually found each other again and started to rebuild our relationship almost from scratch. That was 13 years ago.

It feels different now. We seem almost LESS connected. I wouldn't have thought that was possible. But after 4 years of Lyme treatment, I shouldn't be surprised. It can crush the strongest of relationships.

Yesterday afternoon was an eye opener for me. H has lost all ability to read my body. He knows my body is changing(going thru early menopause). All the ways that used to work for him, don't anymore.
It almost feels like he's resistant to any change. Almost trying to force my body to respond.
Which it didn't yesterday. At all.

I was left frustrated. I even tried to guide him in the right direction. He wasn't having it.

And that's when I saw it. There was an obvious disconnect in his eyes. I'm not even sure he was 'present' except physically.

Here we are fucking, and he's not listening/watching me. And I'm thinking fucking is supposed to be fun.
I don't think either of us found it fun yesterday. I know I didn't.

I'm tempted to ask him to stop reading this online journal. At least while we try to get back on track.
Part of me needs to be able to unload everything here(not just in my private journal) without his hurt or judgement.
But that other part of me knows how important it is for him to understand me completely, which makes reading this journal of the upmost importance...imo.

So here we are at the end of the week. He's read my letter/my list. He's told me so. We discussed it that night but not a lot(this is typical H).
He immediately told me he was lost. Lost how? He couldn't explain really, except he felt lost in the bedroom.
Could he meet my needs? He thought he could, said yes, said he'd try.

I guess that's all I can ask of try.

And then the guilt crept in today. My ever present guilt. And I start to think maybe I'm just being selfish. Maybe he is really trying. And the words/comments from family and friends come crashing back. Everyone loves him. Best thing since sliced bread...
"He's so good to you."
"You're so lucky to have him."
"Don't fuck it up monkey girl"-one of my closest guy friends.
And then there's Gram...
"You'll never be able to get anyone better than him." sweet isn't she?

And I think about all the other husbands I know and I know I'm one of the lucky ones.

But in the end, I still need what I need. It's how I'm wired.

Having my needs unmet for the rest of my life just doesn't seem like an option anymore.

And all I feel is sad.