Goodwill Rawks!

(I’m going to respond to all the comments from the last post in a day or two. Each comment was written with a lot of thought, which I’m overwhelmed to be the recipient of. So I will reply to each one with just as much time and consideration as you all put into them. I have to go to Illinois tomorrow and I have some things to get done before I do and also when I get home, so be patient please? But know that I am reading each one and I am genuinely touched. Thank you.)

But in the meantime.. have some fluff. :-)

My son has an aversion to wearing “used” clothing. Coming from a garage sale/Goodwill loving mom like me, it created a problem. It’s not a snobbish thing, or a ‘too good to wear Goodwill’ thing. It’s more of an OCD type of thing. Wearing someone else’s clothes squicks him out. He has other germophobe issues with things like food. If anyone touches his food, he won’t eat it. My daughters used to torment him terribly with that. He’d labor to make a sandwich and then they’d lay a finger on it, which would send him into a complete ADHD-fueled temper tantrum. And I couldn’t make them fix him another one because they’d have to touch it. (I could make him a sandwich but I could not touch any other food he was going to eat.) For years throughout elementary school he wouldn’t eat from the hot lunch line because he saw the lunch lady touch something one day and that was the end of that.

He’s a lot better these days. I don’t worry that he’s going to be another “Monk” anymore. He still prefers that nobody touch his food (nothing wrong with that anyway) and then he has this little ‘thing’ about used clothing. I’ve tried to bring him around to our side (the girls and I love Goodwill) but he’d go naked before he’d wear someone else’s skin cells (his words, not mine).

Fortunately for myself and Master’s wallet, he’s only 11. He’s preoccupied with video games and star wars minis. He can’t remember to brush his teeth, let alone what clothing made up his wardrobe yesterday. I buy the stuff when he isn’t with me, take it home and wash it so it smells like our laundry, hide it in the back of a drawer somewhere and wait for him to find it. He has never suspected a thing. He rifles through his clothes, pulls out a shirt and says “Cool shirt! I didn’t know I had this!” and puts it on.

Go mom.

Until today.

We were heading to the local Piggly Wiggly in the mobile oven truck. It’s hot outside. It’s 90-something with a heat index over a hundred. I’m… cranky. The heat is making me ornery, plus I’d just read through the kids school supply list. That’s enough to make any parent see red, you know? Now I love teachers and I know how much they spend out of pocket to equip the classroom. I sympathize with that, really. But damn, every year the supply list gets longer. And a portion of it is stuff that isn’t my child’s personal supplies but stuff that’s going to be donated to the classroom. Most specifically I was chaffing over the increase from one box of kleenex to two boxes of kleenex. Not a great big deal, but then you figure I have three kids so now I’m buying SIX boxes of kleenex. And, I’m buying highlighters and red marking pens for the teacher. And… oh bother. I know, I know.. kleenex for fucks sake. Take a pill, kaya.

I was mentally tallying the cost of supplies, the cost of groceries and hair cuts and gym shoes while melting to the car seat and we drove past the Goodwill store. My daughter, sensing my irritation, made a soothing comment about stopping in there someday soon. Bless her.

And then my son, sitting next to me in his Goodwill shorts and his Goodwill t-shirt turns his nose up and says “I’m not wearing Goodwill crap.” Like his sister and I are ‘crap’ for wearing it. I could not stop myself.

“Yes you are.”

He gets a little panicky at the thought of me taking him there to go shopping and I start feeling meaner by the second and I say, “No, I don’t mean you are going shopping there. I mean you ARE wearing it. Right now.”

He almost started to cry. He was dangerously close to vomiting. Lay on the mommy-guilt already.

I had to take him home so he could take a shower, change his clothes (into clothes that he had seen me buy brand new with his own eyes) and made me promise that I would take ALL the germ-laden clothes out of his drawers Right Now.

So I took out a couple of stained up shirts and some jeans that are too small. What the hell? Money isn’t growing in my backyard anytime soon.

This was one of those little secrets that parents horde, one that I was going to tell him when he got older. Like how he used to fluff up granny’s boobs and called them pillows. Or the day he asked excitedly how could he get those marbles out of his ball sack. “And I used to buy you Goodwill clothes and hide ‘em in your drawer!”

You see how the heat and humidity can just ruin *everything*??

I do have to wonder if I’m seriously affecting his psyche just to save a few bucks on clothes. Do you think so? Not that I’m going to stop buying Goodwill or anything, but you know, I could take the money I save on clothes and put it in a therapy fund or something. :D

~cheap cunt

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Purpose

slave_karirenee asks:

What *is* the purpose of this journal. Or, rather, what *was* the purpose of it. The short and easy answers are communication and humiliation.

Incredibly long and boring reasons for journaling

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Melting

I’m making myself sick in this heat. Even the a/c only combats it if you don’t move too much. So I decided today was the day to pull up the carpet in the bedroom. Brilliant, eh? Which means hauling *everything* out of it first. I then decided this was a perfect time to slap a fresh coat of paint on the walls and I wouldn’t have to worry about covering the floor.

So it’s painted, the carpet and padding are out and I’m currently taking a break from staples and tiny nails. I’m tired, hot, my back hurts and my head is pounding. (whine? me? No!)

The next two days are supposed to be killers for heat and I’m supposed to drive all the way to Illinois to my mom’s house. There is no air in the truck. There is no air at my mom’s house either. I so do not want to go.

Master, on the other hand, is loving Australia. He’s quite impressed with the birds. Types we’d only see at zoos or pet stores. It took Him 26 hours to get there and He’s only now coming around from the jet lag. He’s looking at a week there, at least. *sigh*

He’s not pleased at the lack of pictures being posted so I need to fix that.. and I will. Later. Tomorrow. Maybe. Pictures are a sore subject for me right now.

I plan on talking with Master about this journal as soon as He has time. I’m not so sure it’s serving the purpose it was set up for anymore.

Back to nails and staples I guess.

~cunt

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Shame, luck and karma.

I’d been thinking on pure_blue’s post yesterday while I was outside mowing the lawn. She notes that she’s pretty spoiled. Her son was going to mow the lawn as soon as she got the mower started. I was feeling most decidedly un-spoiled as I started my own mower. It’s *HOT* here.

I grumbled that my son was not old enough, nor strong enough to handle our push mower. Then I grumbled about having a push mower in the first place. I grumbled while I took the garbage out, grumbled while I weeded the flowers, grumbled as I used scissors to trim around the sidewalk because I can’t figure out how to restring the dang weed whacker.

Then it was time to scoop the dog poo and I found out the scooper is at the other place. That lifted my mood considerably. :D

But as I stood there when all was said and done, hot and sweaty, surveying the yard, I was pretty pleased. I felt very much like a well-worked slave. I could have a riding lawn mower, I could have the neighbor fix the weed whacker. I could make the kids help. But I like what I do, I like that Master expects me to do it, even if I can’t always see that when I start out.

I like being a slave. I like my life. I’m a lucky, lucky girl. And thinking about being lucky made me think about shame. antisojo has done several posts on shame lately. I don’t have a lot of things to be ashamed of, and I’m lucky for that as well. Luck or my own action though?

I’ve never really dabbled in drugs. I smoked pot twice as a teenager and it made me sick both times. I haven’t touched it since. I tried cocaine twice and the slight rush I got wasn’t worth the horrible aftertaste. I drink socially. Though even less than that since I’ve gotten too old for the bar crowd. My kids can recall one time seeing me drunk in their entire lives and they never let me live it down. “Remember when you were drunk, mom?” And always in front of someone, too.

I graduated high school. I went to college. I married my high school sweetheart. 6 months later, I got pregnant. I’ve been pregnant three times and I have three kids. No abortions, no kids floating around in social services or on the streets. My kids also all have the same father.

Luck? Or good choices? Hell, maybe it’s a boring life. If it is, I like boring.

I did get divorced. That’s one shameful point I suppose. My second husband..well, I’ve already talked about that, and that’s not shame so much as guilt. Are they the same? Shame and guilt?

At one time I was ashamed of the things that happened to me as a child. But since I’ve made sure nothing even remotely similar could happen to my kids, I broke the cycle. Somehow, that seems to negate the shame for me.

We’re all healthy. That’s luck. I’m healthier because Master made me quit smoking (a year and a half already, yay me!) so that’s choice. I take some credit for the kid’s health though it’s mostly luck I suppose. Master is healthy. Our family histories are even healthy. We think we’ll be around awhile.

Financially we’re fine. Lots of people aren’t. We have a house, some people don’t. I have the gift of being able to stay home and raise my kids and not have a sitter doing that for me. Lots of moms don’t have that option. (I had asked blue what she thought Master would do if I just went and got a job anyway. She knows Him fairly well and I really have been considering doing just that. She says “that’s not like painting your toenails black when you know He doesn’t like black polish. That’s, like, a felony.” She’s a smart one.)

And I have Master. Leaving out the s&m and the Master/slave stuff for a moment. I have a man who loves me, who knows every single thing about me (and loves me anyway). I can tell Him anything. There are no secrets, no hidden fantasies, nothing I long for after He’s gone to bed for the night. He listens, without judgment, to my thoughts, my fears, my desires. And then He tries His damnedest to give them to me. Plus He has a gorgeous cock. Plus He’s an amazing lover. He has a great sense of humor and He’s smart.

He gives me a lifestyle that I’d only dreamed of before. Lots of people don’t have that. And the best part? It’s only going to get better. How lucky is that?

Am I blessed because I just happen to be a lucky girl or did I make some good choices and I get to now reap the rewards of karma?

At any rate, I’m glad I mowed the lawn. :D

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I know some of you will appreciate this.

Edit: My daughter found this and I was late in thinking to credit it to the appropriate people. Sorry about that. I don’t know for sure where she found it, but this is what I came up with on a Google.

From Ten Reasons Why Gay Marriage Is Wrong.

01) Being gay is not natural. Real Americans always reject unnatural things like eyeglasses, polyester, and air conditioning.

02) Gay marriage will encourage people to be gay, in the same way that hanging around tall people will make you tall.

03) Legalizing gay marriage will open the door to all kinds of crazy behavior. People may even wish to marry their pets because a dog has legal standing and can sign a marriage contract.

04) Straight marriage has been around a long time and hasn’t changed at all; women are still property, blacks still can’t marry whites, and divorce is still illegal.

05) Straight marriage will be less meaningful if gay marriage were allowed; the sanctity of Britany Spears’ 55-hour just-for-fun marriage would be destroyed.

06) Straight marriages are valid because they produce children. Gay couples, infertile couples, and old people shouldn’t be allowed to marry because our orphanages aren’t full yet, and the world needs more children.

07) Obviously gay parents will raise gay children, since straight parents only raise straight children.

08) Gay marriage is not supported by religion. In a theocracy like ours, the values of one religion are imposed on the entire country. That’s why we have only one religion in America.

09) Children can never succeed without a male and a female role model at home. That’s why we as a society expressly forbid single parents to raise children.

10) Gay marriage will change the foundation of society; we could never adapt to new social norms. Just like we haven’t adapted to cars, the service-sector economy, or longer life spans.

SUPPORT GAY MARRIAGE!

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Q&A

Questions from slavemalia.

1) Is the schedule your Master has now the norm, or are there times of the year He’s gone more than others…

It’s pretty much normal. When something isn’t working, He goes to fix it. The trips aren’t usually planned because no one plans on their equipment breaking. Most of the time there is a day or two notice. And just as often as He goes, the problem will be sorted out and His trip will be canceled too.

2) How long has He worked for this company?

This is a relatively new company. The place He worked before had Him on a seemingly permanent job in another state which wasn’t acceptable to Him. So it’s been an adjustment for all of this.

3) Is His occupation one where He can quit that company and work for another that would require less time away?

At the price of a job He probably wouldn’t like, sure. His degree qualifies Him for lots of things. But this particular company has way too many opportunities and fringe benefits to even consider that. And I’d never even think about asking Him to.

3) If it came to it…could He tell His company that He needs to pull back a little because it’s adversely affecting His home life…

It’s not adversely affecting His home life. No more so than any other couple who are separated by things like this. People in the military, doctors who work long hours, truck drivers, any occupation that involves travel. Maybe some of the spouses left at home rejoice in the separations. I don’t but that’s me. I love Him and I miss Him. Those little whines and rants that I do here are acceptable because He doesn’t read them..lol. I pack for Him, I drive Him to the airport, I kiss Him good-bye and wish Him well, then I go home and wait for word that He arrived safely.

4) Not so much the out of the country trips…but when He travels in the U.S. would it ever be possible that you could go with Him…or meet Him at His destination… ( I know you have the kids, but could it be worked out.)

Mostly it’s just not practical. When He’s on a job site, He’s working ALL day to get the problem fixed. If a product is down, that particular company is not in production and they are not a happy customer. It needs to be fixed asap. I have gone with Him when the kids were off visiting granny for awhile and I spent the entire day in a hotel room by myself. Though I *loved* being able to bathe Him and massage Him when He did make it back, it’s not something we’d do with the kids.

5)I know that you don’t like whining to your Master…but have you had a serious conversation with Him about how His time goes much quicker because He is activily working, but you are in a constant “wait” mode…

He knows. He knows exactly what my day is and what I do. The torture of ‘waiting’ is some of the process. I will learn how to be content with what He gives me, no more no less. Someday. Maybe. I hope.

6) What are the reasons that you don’t move closer to His work so that when He’s not traveling , at least You’d see Him at the end of the day instead of waiting for the weekend…and sadly lots of times that gets shortened too…

Because the kids are happy here. Their friends are here, they like the school. I like the school. We like our house. We like the community. It wasn’t an easy decision for Him to accept the position there. We’re hoping that the stress of things there will settle or lessen as they continue to hire more engineers to lighten the work load. They’re just in a bind right now and with half the work force taking vacations, He’s stepping up.

I could be totally selfish and drag the kids around the country but I happen to care more about their happiness than mine. Master and I will come through this just fine. :-)

And since I’m doing questions and answers, I had these questions presented to me awhile back and I’d really like to hear if any of you have an opinion on the subject.

On Human Nature

Thanks for your input.

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Passing it on..

Whored from antisojo who whored it from Searabbit‘s site. Watch it. It’s worth it.

“Dick and Rick Hoyt are a father-and-son team from Massachusetts who together compete just about continuously in marathon races. And if they’re not in a marathon they are in a triathlon – that daunting, almost superhuman, combination of 26.2 miles of running, 112 miles of bicycling, and 2.4 miles of swimming. Together they have climbed mountains, and once trekked 3,735 miles across America. It’s a remarkable record of exertion – all the more so when you consider that Rick can’t walk or talk.”

For more information on this incredible pair, visit their website.

Yes, I cried, too.

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Score!

Master was describing the nipple clamp sit-up weight thing He wanted to do to me.

“Clover clamps tied to a string. The string gets looped around the footboard and the weights are tied to the other end of the string. You’re going to do sit-ups. 10 or 20, I haven’t decided yet.”

I mmm-ed. Eloquently.

He frowned. “Well, the sitting up part will be easy but imagine the going down part.” And He tried to look evil.

“Can we do that tonight?” I asked eagerly.

“It’s going to be a punishment.” He protested.

I snickered. “That’s not a punishment! That’s fun!”

“Okay,” He said slowly. “I’m going to piss in a bowl, make you drink it with a straw and then make you post the video.” He wiggled His eyebrows at me.

“You’ve made me post much worse stuff than that.” I pointed out.

“You’re going to lick my ass while I jerk off!” He said quickly.

“Fun!” I countered.

He sighed. “Freaking masochists.”

Slave- 1
Master- 0

:-)

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Happy Birthday!

Today is my sugar-pie’s birthday. I have this little gift for her.

Happy Birthday!

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Regarding Pictures

I am not afraid of being recognized. Not even a little bit. The world is a *huge* place. I don’t think there is a chance in *hell* of my Wal-Mart cashier recognizing me. And if she did? So what? ‘Nice to meet you. Now ring me up please?’ What would be the big deal about being recognized if it did happen? Thousands of people meet at munches, at fetish fairs, at clubs, dungeons. They meet people face to face in their own communities, people they will most likely bump into somewhere else, people who may know their co-workers, their children, their children’s teachers, where they live.. and no one *ever* has this sort of fit about it.

I don’t go to munches. I don’t go to fetish fairs. No clubs. I post an occasional picture of my face. And I am not the least little bit concerned about being recognized, or what would happen if I am.

Master does have me blur out His face. He needs to be concerned about His career. You all do remember that He works in a different city than I live in? I have never met or been seen by the people He works with. Even if, or when, I do, what are the chances that that person would recognize me from a picture seen on a website? A tiny journal that doesn’t get a lot of traffic in the first place. And if they do, how could they prove that it’s Master? I could claim that my Master isn’t necessarily my husband (or their employee). Poly relationships are everywhere. And as Master says, they can’t fire me.

My children. I am prepared, actually, to have a discussion about this with them at any time they ask. My kids are exceptionally open-minded, extremely intelligent (unlike some of my readers apparently), they see me every day, they know exactly how happy I am, how happy we as a couple are, and they are happy themselves. They probably already know a whole lot. Because they are smart kids. Just because you might be too ashamed to try and explain it to your kids doesn’t mean I am. My kids would understand and they wouldn’t *care*.

If it doesn’t affect their day to day lives, why would they care? What child has that big of an interest in what goes on in their parent’s bedroom? Even you vanilla, missionary style parents. If you think your kids don’t know you have sex, you’re very disillusioned. And if you think they care, you’re wrong.

They don’t hear Him beating me, they don’t hear me screaming or crying. What we do when they are home is nothing more than what you all do when your kids are home. We aren’t retarded. I’m not locked in the cage or the closet at any time that they might knock on the door or need me. Never. I’m not tied up either. Why do you think I bitch so much about not having enough play time?? Why do you think I can’t wait for school to start? I miss my hot sex life!

BDSM is not illegal. I am not worried about losing custody of my kids. It’s a ridiculous thought. I already won sole custody of my kids. I’ve already been judged a fit parent by a court of law. I’m not doing anything illegal, my kids are not involved in my sex life (what an insane thought. shame on you!). People who are fetish models, people who run big porn businesses, nude models… you think they don’t have kids too? People who are on the front lines of BDSM, in the public, have children and nobody is making moves to remove them. Because it’s not illegal. It’s not immoral. If it is to you, that’s your personal issue. Don’t make it mine.

Just because you can’t imagine your child being okay with who YOU are, doesn’t mean mine won’t. Maybe my kids are better than your’s. Maybe my kids love me unconditionally and your’s don’t. Don’t transpose your parenting woes onto my kids.

I don’t think it’s so uncommon for parents to look forward to the day their kids are grown. Sweet blessed freedom! I am not ashamed of longing for that time. I’m putting my parenting time in, and doing a damn good job of it. My kids are honor roll students, no drugs, no alcohol, no pregnancies. They’re polite, smart, healthy, talented, beautiful. There is no drama beyond normal. They don’t yell or scream or cuss at adults or other children. They don’t hit me or threaten me. (think that’s an odd thing to say? look around at some kids these days.) I’ll have 21 years of parenting in before my youngest graduates high school. I’m not planning on kicking them out on graduation day. They can stay here for as long as they need or want to. But… I don’t have to be here. I’ll be free to travel with Master. To stay where ever He is. I imagine we will still be maintaining two homes then. The freedom that my children’s impending adulthood gives me is the freedom to come and go as I please, just as they will be able to. I don’t know many parents who aren’t waiting for that with some sort of longing.

Anything else?

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