So, tonight I mentioned in a social media avenue that I was once a "stirrup". I was asked to clarify, and I feel it's about time I did, aside from the ol' "hey, I remember when" type stories.
It's been almost 6 years since The Ex and I split, and most of my close friends from that time period know this story, so I don't feel there will be too much harm. If there is, so be it - I apologize to you if you're reading this and were a party to this and are offended (I especially apologize if you're offended as I feel sorry for you, considering if you were there you've probably got a longer list of interesting stories in some respects than I might, even).
Ahhhh...I don't recall exactly when this was, but I'd safely guess the early 2000's. A friend of mine introduced me to a friend (backstory here), and this friend of mine got heavily into the Leather Community. To the point, mind you, that she was KNOWN in the community by the nickname "moocher bottom". That's not quite the name you want in that group of folk - that's like being known at the bar as, "self assessed whore". Ya, seriously. She was happy that way...
I digress...Moocher Bottom introduced me to Ratty. Ratty ended up dating a woman, also with an Are name, so we'll call her R. So, now we have R&R dating. Simple enough.
The Ex and I became good friends of R&R's and The Ex also started to explore her more "leather" side. This is not like Leather Tuscadero, folks, we're talking bondage, whips and chains. This is NOT my scene, mind you, but I was a good little other half to my lovely Wife, so I did what I could to make her happy (within reason). As R&R were heavily into this "scene", and they knew The Ex was highly interested, they asked us if we'd like to attend an "Event" in Orlando. To amuse the wife, I agreed. I must admit, I was quite curious (wouldn't you be? Honestly now!) This "event" was a Leather Convention...I think it was for 2 or 3 days, I can't recall now. I guess I should go by what I do remember:
We shared a room (and hearing our co-horts having sex was enough of a turn-on for us to oblige in the same action across the room). R volunteered for many things, including a session of "wax play", and that was quite interesting - to the point that they taught you how to use wax to help relax you much like a massage. The Play Room was quite...hmmmm...not quite scary, but enough of something that I knew I would never want to partake in such a situation - open play with bondage/whips/pain is not something I find necessary in my life. The buffet/dinner was interesting enough, especially when R let them know it was her birthday, and she volunteered for a Fisting demonstration.
Yes...I did just say "Fisting Demonstration". I was a stirrup. R heard they needed someone for this, and since it was her birthday the next day (the day of the demonstration), the 100's of people all cheered and clapped for the birthday girl who was volunteering to be fisted in front of a live audience. In fact, it had such a turn-out they had to move it to a different room to hold everyone who wanted to attend! The Fister (is) an author on the subject and quite professional, made us all feel quite calm about the situation at hand. Ratty was to be there with her beloved, and The Ex and I were asked to be stirrups to R's legs (and she wasn't a small girl, mind you).
I can honestly tell you, who is reading, that this is the first, and most probably the last, time I've ever experienced watching someone get fisted in front of a live audience. If you don't know what fisting is, you might want to Google that. Now...I will admit I've had my fair share of, ummmm, fisting, but I never was able to get this technique down (...and, maybe I'm just not that talented, or The Ex wasn't that open to the concept - even though she requested this). It really makes you think...how can someone take something like that inside themselves and find such pleasure in it? Well, it's not for me to say what's pleasurable to someone else, now is it?
...But, that's the brief, truthful story of my being a stirrup. I hope the audience at hand has enjoyed.
-AA
Showing posts with label ex. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ex. Show all posts
Tuesday, April 24, 2012
Saturday, July 2, 2011
Fate or ?
I'm sitting here wondering about people, today...about what makes us click with them, think about them - become part of their lives and want to stay in their lives.
I'm not necessarily one of those folks who believe in fate to the fullest extent, but I think there must be something to it...something in the tapestry of life that makes us fall into the patterns of people that we sometimes do - or go after those that we feel we need to be connected to. There has to be, otherwise how could you explain it? God? Maybe. Reincarnation? Sure, why not? "Fate" as an entity? That makes sense, actually. Maybe I believe more than I let on...that's entirely possible.
I have a lot of "exes" and I have a lot of "acquaintances" - some of my exes are acquaintances and some of my acquaintances used to be friends. I can also say that some of my friends are my exes and we are friends for the better, and I'm very happy with that. AO is someone that I'm grateful to have in my life as a friend, and I don't take that word "friend" lightly. She came down all the way from Washington two years ago to help us move 2.5 hours north. Now THAT is friendship to the umpteenth degree. Of course, this was also a vacation of sorts for her - but, seriously, I can't ever remember jumping on a plane to go and help a friend move! I don't know that I ever told her just how much her trip meant to us, but she saved us, literally. This gets me to my point...if I hadn't dated her over 20 years ago, and we hadn't stayed in contact (fallen out, gotten back in) over the years, obviously she wouldn't have been here helping us in our time of need, correct? Is it fate that had this pre-planned? Or, is it just simply determination on my part that got us back into contact? If so, WHY? I guess it doesn't really matter in the long run, and I feel blessed to be able to call her my good friend of 20+ years, even though there's been big spots of time where we didn't know each other or where we were at - but, it didn't matter. We came back together like puzzle pieces that were needed to fill in that field of flowers, just like in the picture on the box; 2 of 1,000. Impressive, isn't it? I think so.
I think about my friends, and people who used to be good friends but are now more or less stuck in the back of the closet behind the shoe boxes of old pictures...I know I can dig them out if I need them, if I think about them, and maybe we'll reconnect, maybe we won't and those pictures will go into storage. I think about my exes...people that I got involved with on a weekly, monthly or even yearly basis. I think about the ones that I know where they are but they want to have nothing to do with me - and I'm okay with that, too. If you don't feel like I fit into your life, so be it. No harm, no foul. I don't want you in my life if I'm not a fit for you, because obviously it wouldn't work.
My previous ex, of 9.5 years, (my previous ex...as opposed to my current ex? No, she's my current ex, LOL), my EX, we met when she was a mere 17...and I hate to admit it but I was 26. We were together for a good chunk of time, but things changed. I'll also freely tell you that I know things were changing, and not for the better. Things in my current relationship, by the way, are changing on a regular basis, but this is for the better - we are growing together, but my ex and I were not. We didn't see it until more time had passed as I think we both wanted it to work in some respect - we were, after all, the perfect lesbian couple. We were that couple. The one everyone looked up to, thought was amazing, etc., etc. Ya, not so amazing. Don't get me wrong, we didn't fight all the time or do anything wrong - we just didn't have much more going for us than the artificial front. Sad, but true. But, I digress...my ex and I got together, and we learned some things about each other - and it makes me wonder if Fate had a hand in that one, too. Or, reincarnation, maybe? Let me explain further...
When I met my ex, she refused to talk about WWII or the Holocaust or anything related to it - it freaked her out. Now, for most this wouldn't be an issue, but I, my darlings, I am one of those folks that is in love with Germanic Sociology from the WWII (mainly Hitler) era. I have a whole bookshelf (tall, Ikea bookshelf) of WWII books on these subjects (and some Genocide reading scattered in for good measure), I even have the entire Nuremberg Trials in paper form, including the books of evidence (which are just as big as the trials). **Side note, for anyone interested in this, a good chunk of the trials can be found here: Nuremberg Trials (Harvard Law)
One day, the Ex and I were sitting in a park downtown and talking about things...and I asked her, what was it about the whole WWII thing that freaked her out? She told me about something she'd always envisioned, and that freaked me out a little bit. For back story, I had always had this odd "vision", if you will, of a Nazi soldier talking to a young woman in a cell of some sort...that was about it - but it was more the feeling I got from it that always resonated with me. I don't recall if it came to me as a dream eons ago or what, but it had always been with me, and I just let that be, as well. I never talked to anyone about that, as it never seemed like something that people would "get" or understand...and I didn't want to come off like I was a "Nazi Sympathizer" from that time period, as that's far from the truth. That night, the Ex told me that she had this vision of a young woman who was in the throws of the Third Reich, she was in a prison cell, and a young Guard was being very sweet to her - making sure that she was okay...before he was called away. That's all she really could remember about it. Okay...freaky. I ask you, is this "reincarnation" at it's best? Is it her reading my mind? My reading hers (before we ever met), or simply Fate? Who knows...but, honestly I think from that moment on we both understood, somehow, that while we were together and seemingly happy, there was something underlying that shouldn't have kept us together - something wasn't quite right, and I know that I never really shook that feeling. It's like I was getting a second chance at fixing something - and, maybe I was. Maybe in a previous life I was that Nazi Guard...maybe she was that young woman? Who knows...I really don't, and can't say that I do, but I do know that we were thrown together in some way, shape or form as to connect, and we connected on another level - one that makes us interconnected even though now we rarely talk and we had a pretty rough breakup (I'm not surprised if you counter in this story, but it never really came up again).
This stuff just makes me think...and, the ex before "The Ex", who was my first long term relationship, that's another story but I'll say this...when we were "dating" or "courting" or whatever you'll call it, and I still lived in Oregon (I moved to Florida for this ex I speak of, as I didn't want her to have to move to Portland - she was young as well and it just didn't seem right to me to displace her, especially with such an amazing family), I was writing pieces at that time about a man named Mark, who lived in the Vietnam War. I almost felt possessed when writing these small pieces - I'd get them at random times and just be compelled to write them down...these thoughts. My ex was on the phone with me a few times these came to me, and being a writer herself she didn't think this was strange at all. I got a last name towards the end of these pieces. Mark is another story, and one I might share more in depth in the future, but suffice it to say, it was a huge piece of my writing history and a good year of my life. I met a Vietnam Vet at a job I was working once, who did a couple of tours and lived to tell about it, and I mentioned this writing to him - he said he'd love to see it so I brought him a copy. He told me the next day that he'd never read such compelling, and accurate, writing about the war in the sense that this was written. THAT was not only a compliment, but a truth - I never read Nam stuff, I was never that interested in it - sure, I'd seen Apocalypse Now, but I was only around 23, I didn't know enough about that part of history to really understand it...Mark was writing through me. Mark...I got his name, as I mentioned. One day, about a year after moving to FL, I came home and my ex had told me she found something for me on the Internet. It was a website with The Wall names and information on them. She found Mark, his full name. He was born/raised in Wisconsin, and in my story pieces Mark was from Illinois. He died in the War approximately a year before I was born. I wondered...could it be some past, or some piece from a past that my soul had hung onto before being brought into this world? Was reincarnation even possible? Is it selfish to think that we are our only true selves and that we don't re-process? I think there's got to be something to it...and, this brings me full circle to people in our lives. If dead people can touch you, then there's got to be something to people in the present day coming in and out of your life and having some sort of "fate" interacting with us...maybe Fate with a capital F is the best way to look at it. Some would call it God. Concrete Blonde would call it Love.
I'm not necessarily one of those folks who believe in fate to the fullest extent, but I think there must be something to it...something in the tapestry of life that makes us fall into the patterns of people that we sometimes do - or go after those that we feel we need to be connected to. There has to be, otherwise how could you explain it? God? Maybe. Reincarnation? Sure, why not? "Fate" as an entity? That makes sense, actually. Maybe I believe more than I let on...that's entirely possible.
I have a lot of "exes" and I have a lot of "acquaintances" - some of my exes are acquaintances and some of my acquaintances used to be friends. I can also say that some of my friends are my exes and we are friends for the better, and I'm very happy with that. AO is someone that I'm grateful to have in my life as a friend, and I don't take that word "friend" lightly. She came down all the way from Washington two years ago to help us move 2.5 hours north. Now THAT is friendship to the umpteenth degree. Of course, this was also a vacation of sorts for her - but, seriously, I can't ever remember jumping on a plane to go and help a friend move! I don't know that I ever told her just how much her trip meant to us, but she saved us, literally. This gets me to my point...if I hadn't dated her over 20 years ago, and we hadn't stayed in contact (fallen out, gotten back in) over the years, obviously she wouldn't have been here helping us in our time of need, correct? Is it fate that had this pre-planned? Or, is it just simply determination on my part that got us back into contact? If so, WHY? I guess it doesn't really matter in the long run, and I feel blessed to be able to call her my good friend of 20+ years, even though there's been big spots of time where we didn't know each other or where we were at - but, it didn't matter. We came back together like puzzle pieces that were needed to fill in that field of flowers, just like in the picture on the box; 2 of 1,000. Impressive, isn't it? I think so.
I think about my friends, and people who used to be good friends but are now more or less stuck in the back of the closet behind the shoe boxes of old pictures...I know I can dig them out if I need them, if I think about them, and maybe we'll reconnect, maybe we won't and those pictures will go into storage. I think about my exes...people that I got involved with on a weekly, monthly or even yearly basis. I think about the ones that I know where they are but they want to have nothing to do with me - and I'm okay with that, too. If you don't feel like I fit into your life, so be it. No harm, no foul. I don't want you in my life if I'm not a fit for you, because obviously it wouldn't work.
My previous ex, of 9.5 years, (my previous ex...as opposed to my current ex? No, she's my current ex, LOL), my EX, we met when she was a mere 17...and I hate to admit it but I was 26. We were together for a good chunk of time, but things changed. I'll also freely tell you that I know things were changing, and not for the better. Things in my current relationship, by the way, are changing on a regular basis, but this is for the better - we are growing together, but my ex and I were not. We didn't see it until more time had passed as I think we both wanted it to work in some respect - we were, after all, the perfect lesbian couple. We were that couple. The one everyone looked up to, thought was amazing, etc., etc. Ya, not so amazing. Don't get me wrong, we didn't fight all the time or do anything wrong - we just didn't have much more going for us than the artificial front. Sad, but true. But, I digress...my ex and I got together, and we learned some things about each other - and it makes me wonder if Fate had a hand in that one, too. Or, reincarnation, maybe? Let me explain further...
When I met my ex, she refused to talk about WWII or the Holocaust or anything related to it - it freaked her out. Now, for most this wouldn't be an issue, but I, my darlings, I am one of those folks that is in love with Germanic Sociology from the WWII (mainly Hitler) era. I have a whole bookshelf (tall, Ikea bookshelf) of WWII books on these subjects (and some Genocide reading scattered in for good measure), I even have the entire Nuremberg Trials in paper form, including the books of evidence (which are just as big as the trials). **Side note, for anyone interested in this, a good chunk of the trials can be found here: Nuremberg Trials (Harvard Law)
One day, the Ex and I were sitting in a park downtown and talking about things...and I asked her, what was it about the whole WWII thing that freaked her out? She told me about something she'd always envisioned, and that freaked me out a little bit. For back story, I had always had this odd "vision", if you will, of a Nazi soldier talking to a young woman in a cell of some sort...that was about it - but it was more the feeling I got from it that always resonated with me. I don't recall if it came to me as a dream eons ago or what, but it had always been with me, and I just let that be, as well. I never talked to anyone about that, as it never seemed like something that people would "get" or understand...and I didn't want to come off like I was a "Nazi Sympathizer" from that time period, as that's far from the truth. That night, the Ex told me that she had this vision of a young woman who was in the throws of the Third Reich, she was in a prison cell, and a young Guard was being very sweet to her - making sure that she was okay...before he was called away. That's all she really could remember about it. Okay...freaky. I ask you, is this "reincarnation" at it's best? Is it her reading my mind? My reading hers (before we ever met), or simply Fate? Who knows...but, honestly I think from that moment on we both understood, somehow, that while we were together and seemingly happy, there was something underlying that shouldn't have kept us together - something wasn't quite right, and I know that I never really shook that feeling. It's like I was getting a second chance at fixing something - and, maybe I was. Maybe in a previous life I was that Nazi Guard...maybe she was that young woman? Who knows...I really don't, and can't say that I do, but I do know that we were thrown together in some way, shape or form as to connect, and we connected on another level - one that makes us interconnected even though now we rarely talk and we had a pretty rough breakup (I'm not surprised if you counter in this story, but it never really came up again).
This stuff just makes me think...and, the ex before "The Ex", who was my first long term relationship, that's another story but I'll say this...when we were "dating" or "courting" or whatever you'll call it, and I still lived in Oregon (I moved to Florida for this ex I speak of, as I didn't want her to have to move to Portland - she was young as well and it just didn't seem right to me to displace her, especially with such an amazing family), I was writing pieces at that time about a man named Mark, who lived in the Vietnam War. I almost felt possessed when writing these small pieces - I'd get them at random times and just be compelled to write them down...these thoughts. My ex was on the phone with me a few times these came to me, and being a writer herself she didn't think this was strange at all. I got a last name towards the end of these pieces. Mark is another story, and one I might share more in depth in the future, but suffice it to say, it was a huge piece of my writing history and a good year of my life. I met a Vietnam Vet at a job I was working once, who did a couple of tours and lived to tell about it, and I mentioned this writing to him - he said he'd love to see it so I brought him a copy. He told me the next day that he'd never read such compelling, and accurate, writing about the war in the sense that this was written. THAT was not only a compliment, but a truth - I never read Nam stuff, I was never that interested in it - sure, I'd seen Apocalypse Now, but I was only around 23, I didn't know enough about that part of history to really understand it...Mark was writing through me. Mark...I got his name, as I mentioned. One day, about a year after moving to FL, I came home and my ex had told me she found something for me on the Internet. It was a website with The Wall names and information on them. She found Mark, his full name. He was born/raised in Wisconsin, and in my story pieces Mark was from Illinois. He died in the War approximately a year before I was born. I wondered...could it be some past, or some piece from a past that my soul had hung onto before being brought into this world? Was reincarnation even possible? Is it selfish to think that we are our only true selves and that we don't re-process? I think there's got to be something to it...and, this brings me full circle to people in our lives. If dead people can touch you, then there's got to be something to people in the present day coming in and out of your life and having some sort of "fate" interacting with us...maybe Fate with a capital F is the best way to look at it. Some would call it God. Concrete Blonde would call it Love.
I'll leave this entry with a piece from Mark from 1999. Over the years I got a few more tidbits here and there - this was one of them, and I think probably the last:
"and if anyone shall ever forget what it meant to send their men to war, if anyone shall ever forget what it meant to leave their mothers, wives, children and parents alone, waiting by the phone, by the t.v. for some glimpse of possible returned death - for some hollow face to wave back at the cameras...wondering if your son would come back in a body bag...if anyone shall ever forget these erroneous ways of the world, these horrid manslaughter ideas that spouted upon the refuge of idealism that we turned upon ourselves with loaded guns - bullets flying - death mounting...if anyone shall ever forget let it be me, let it be my sacrificed ghost that walks upon the graveyards...like so many others, let it be me, please let it be me who forgets, the one who died, the one who's gone...the one who's writing."
-AA
Sunday, June 26, 2011
My Wife, She is Amazing!
I've been accused of many things in my life, and wanting a housewife has actually been one of them. Is it wrong, for a woman, to want a housewife? Is this somehow wrong for me to want because I'm not interested in being with men on a daily life basis, and men are the creators of the "housewife"? I don't think so, but I suppose others might think this.
My ex friend, who's now my exes partner of roughly 5 years, was actually the one who accused me of this as if it were the most unjust thing on the planet that I could request or wish for. Mind you, I never asked my ex to be a housewife, I merely wanted her to do her half of the household chores, at least, since I kept up with all the bills, made sure we had things in order so we could function, and was starting up a business to help us eventually move to another area where she could be closer to her family (as this was all she seemed to want, and told me as much, during our relationship of over 9 years). I would come home during my lunch breaks at an office job and do the dishes, clean up the kitchen, make things tidy, pay the bills, etc. My ex would come home after a day at work and read...or find other fun things to do. I'd try to find time to spend with her but she'd rather be doing her own thing. Now, I'm sure you can already tell from here that the relationship was doomed by this point - and it did take quite a few years to get to this degree of self absorbency on her end, but it was there and it was obvious to not only me.
As things started to get harder for me to handle (full time job with a 45/min to an hour drive each way for work, as the job moved farther out, starting a small business and working that at night, still paying all the bills and doing housework and errands on the weekends), she started to move further and further away, and that's okay - life is what it is and deals you the hand you are dealt, how you play it is up to you. Sometimes I'm a very stealthy Poker player and sometimes I honestly suck. This is probably the reason I'm not wealthy. LOL
The ex friend, who was a friend at the time, was actually "hired" to assist us in cleaning up the house over the course of a couple of days - she was out of work, and we both thought we were helping. This, somehow, led to her telling me that all I wanted out of my ex was a housewife...and, after we were broken up she accused me of this again. This once again brings me back to, is that so wrong to want?
I was just sitting here thinking about how wonderful C is to me. She's making deviled eggs right now, she did laundry yesterday. She takes care of the kitty boxes and vacuuming every other day. She's been talked into (*wink wink*) making her famous Alfredo sauce to go with the chicken strips she's making today, and we'll have that with low-carb pasta and a salad tonight. It's our day off, and she's busy doing household things, and she's happy doing that.
When I met C, she told me she was raised to be a housewife. I told her I was raised to be a husband, the provider, to make sure all things were taken care of, the bills were paid on time, the family happy. My mother, of course, wanted me to get married to a young man (any) who were in the religion I was raised and be an obedient housewife myself, but that was not me, and I knew that from a very, very early age. I followed my father's lead, and to this day wish I would have learned more from him (in fixing cars, electrical repairs, etc. - the man is like MacGuyver, and can even cook and grow things!). I did, however, follow in my mothers footsteps in the sense that she paid all the bills and had the business at home. Hmmm...again, I'm proving that I'm a split of my folks.
Anyway, back to wives. C also told me she wanted to be a housewife. She preferred to work part time or stay at home and work, having the freedom to clean the house, take care of the children (and we have 5, at this point, none of them of the human kind), make meals, and be a good caregiver and solid ruler of the house. She is just that...she does rule with an iron fist at times, and honestly I'm quite happy with that. She is my June, and I'm happy to say I'm her Ward...and yes, one of our babies acts like The Beaver (we also have an Eddie Haskell).
I love having a wife. I love knowing, also, that if something happens to me things will get done! I recently had surgery (my...4th in 2 years - ya, that's too many...), and I haven't been able to do as much as I'd like, and I'm constantly told to "not work so much, take it easy like the doctor said." I know that if I do things will still get done, I don't have to worry about that. THAT is amazing.
Sometimes I feel like I've got it easy - like I should be doing more than I am...and maybe I should be - but I hope that if I am slacking C will tell me. She usually does.
-AA
My ex friend, who's now my exes partner of roughly 5 years, was actually the one who accused me of this as if it were the most unjust thing on the planet that I could request or wish for. Mind you, I never asked my ex to be a housewife, I merely wanted her to do her half of the household chores, at least, since I kept up with all the bills, made sure we had things in order so we could function, and was starting up a business to help us eventually move to another area where she could be closer to her family (as this was all she seemed to want, and told me as much, during our relationship of over 9 years). I would come home during my lunch breaks at an office job and do the dishes, clean up the kitchen, make things tidy, pay the bills, etc. My ex would come home after a day at work and read...or find other fun things to do. I'd try to find time to spend with her but she'd rather be doing her own thing. Now, I'm sure you can already tell from here that the relationship was doomed by this point - and it did take quite a few years to get to this degree of self absorbency on her end, but it was there and it was obvious to not only me.
As things started to get harder for me to handle (full time job with a 45/min to an hour drive each way for work, as the job moved farther out, starting a small business and working that at night, still paying all the bills and doing housework and errands on the weekends), she started to move further and further away, and that's okay - life is what it is and deals you the hand you are dealt, how you play it is up to you. Sometimes I'm a very stealthy Poker player and sometimes I honestly suck. This is probably the reason I'm not wealthy. LOL
The ex friend, who was a friend at the time, was actually "hired" to assist us in cleaning up the house over the course of a couple of days - she was out of work, and we both thought we were helping. This, somehow, led to her telling me that all I wanted out of my ex was a housewife...and, after we were broken up she accused me of this again. This once again brings me back to, is that so wrong to want?
I was just sitting here thinking about how wonderful C is to me. She's making deviled eggs right now, she did laundry yesterday. She takes care of the kitty boxes and vacuuming every other day. She's been talked into (*wink wink*) making her famous Alfredo sauce to go with the chicken strips she's making today, and we'll have that with low-carb pasta and a salad tonight. It's our day off, and she's busy doing household things, and she's happy doing that.
When I met C, she told me she was raised to be a housewife. I told her I was raised to be a husband, the provider, to make sure all things were taken care of, the bills were paid on time, the family happy. My mother, of course, wanted me to get married to a young man (any) who were in the religion I was raised and be an obedient housewife myself, but that was not me, and I knew that from a very, very early age. I followed my father's lead, and to this day wish I would have learned more from him (in fixing cars, electrical repairs, etc. - the man is like MacGuyver, and can even cook and grow things!). I did, however, follow in my mothers footsteps in the sense that she paid all the bills and had the business at home. Hmmm...again, I'm proving that I'm a split of my folks.
Anyway, back to wives. C also told me she wanted to be a housewife. She preferred to work part time or stay at home and work, having the freedom to clean the house, take care of the children (and we have 5, at this point, none of them of the human kind), make meals, and be a good caregiver and solid ruler of the house. She is just that...she does rule with an iron fist at times, and honestly I'm quite happy with that. She is my June, and I'm happy to say I'm her Ward...and yes, one of our babies acts like The Beaver (we also have an Eddie Haskell).
I love having a wife. I love knowing, also, that if something happens to me things will get done! I recently had surgery (my...4th in 2 years - ya, that's too many...), and I haven't been able to do as much as I'd like, and I'm constantly told to "not work so much, take it easy like the doctor said." I know that if I do things will still get done, I don't have to worry about that. THAT is amazing.
Sometimes I feel like I've got it easy - like I should be doing more than I am...and maybe I should be - but I hope that if I am slacking C will tell me. She usually does.
-AA
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