Re-setting Herself

I’d like to thank Sara for the suggestion on novelty underwear from Café Press. I gave Lynda this pair of panties for her birthday:

I never know how Lynda will react but for this she burst out laughing.  And then of course she had to try them on and I wanted to test them out. They work great.

At one point during her birthday, Lynda told me, “I’m fifty-one and I feel great!” 

You know, when she was twenty-one, and many times since then, that she didn’t feel so great. While I generally have functioned better over the years, I can’t say I felt great either. And we weren’t happy with each other. 

But we decided to get hold of our lives a few years ago.  Simply put, I took control, and she agreed to give it to me. 

When I first started writing this blog, I described how I micromanaged her day, scheduling every minute and spanking her when she didn’t adhere to it.  And while I tried to be fair, I was pretty strict (I call it consistent).

It’s three years later. I don’t make detailed schedule like that anymore, although we still talk about what needs to be done during the day. I tell her the one or two things I expect her to do, and then there are the usual chores that must be done every day.  She manages her own life much more, now. 

These days our house is nice. The clutter is gone. We can walk and sit down. There are always clean dishes and clean clothes. Our finances are in order and the bills get paid on time.  We’re not late anymore to our appointments. And she does it on her own.

There are lapses. We had one last week, which I wrote about.

“You’re actually doing very well,” I said as I whacked her bottom.  “In fact, I’m pretty happy with you and with things around the house.” (whack whack whack).

“And when things don’t get done fast enough, I get to do this, and that makes me happy.” (whap whap whap). 

A light session. I let her go when her cheeks had two cheerful read spots.

Well okay, they made me cheerful. 

Earlier this year, Lynda’s brother passed away. Once she had gotten back home from all the proceedings, she got back to the ordinary cycle of each day.  I looked often to see if she was sad, but she wasn’t terribly. She seemed pretty peaceful, all things considered. 

“I have reset myself to a new normal,” she said.  “Which is to feel good.”

“Things happen,” she continued, “that disrupt my day, but I realized when that happens, I can go back to normal soon enough, which is to feel good. If I need to, I can do something that helps me feel that way.”

And she does.  She has finally learned to nurture herself. She takes time to listen to the music she likes. She’ll relax and play a video game with the boys. And she does artwork. 

She never gave herself these things before.

Before, it was always a fevered rush to catch up, and usually she created more chaos in the attempt. And she rarely finished a task. Then she’d cycle down and just stay in bed. But now she has time to enjoy herself and take care of her tasks. 

I have always been her leader. But lately, sometimes, it feels like she jumped way ahead of me and is teaching me things. 

She’s fifty-one and she feels great. 

I think that's pretty great.