Reassurance #8

Where has the week gone? Wasn't it only yesterday that I wrote an entry about reassurance spankings?

I've been up to my arms in fall housecleaning. You know, the kind where you empty out drawers, cabinets and closets, scrub everything down and put it back in a different order? The kind where you look at something you haven't seen for five years, ask, 'Do I really need that?' and then toss it in a box or bag to take to your favorite rummage charity? Occasionally after one of these bouts, I hear the question, "Where did you put my r---?" In fact, I heard it yesterday when we went on a hunt for something I was certain hadn't been tossed. We think it's buried in the garage beneath a futon frame and layers of plastic in a box inside a piece of cabinetry that won't fit in our house. Um, that sounds like weekend project, dear... And the princess has noticed a few of her rarely played with toys missing. She asked a few days ago, "Where's my 'pino'?" - meaning, of course, where's my xylophone with the orange tiger head on one end that I supposedly outgrew last year.

She doesn't know that Santa Claus is planning on bringing her a real (but little) piano with a little seat just her size. I may live to regret this decision of Mr. Claus, but I respect his need to pander to her gifts and talents - and she is unquestionably musically inclined.

One of these days, the world is going to work out so that I have a choice about what night I ask for a spanking. And the world will work out so that we do it in the way we originally intended. In other words, the princess will be asleep at a decent hour, I won't covered in the grime from scrubbing the kitchen, panicked about work, and Chris will actually be at home for multiple evenings in a row. Until this works out...

The kitchen has been in a terrible state of disorder for days. I hate that. I generally move through the house from the bedrooms to the family room, and the kitchen is next to last on this list, so it accumulates stuff during the project. I couldn't tolerate the notion of cooking in it, trying to buy and unpack groceries in it, or even feeding the dog in it for even one more day. So about 9:00 last night I asked Chris to put the princess to bed and said I was finishing the kitchen no matter what. I'd stay up late, neglect work yet another day... etc.

But I knew the next two nights (tonight and Saturday) were not good spanking nights for Chris. He's doing some fire department training that is very difficult physically, has a friend in from out of town on Friday night, and is busy with duty this weekend. (No, he's not out in the Esperanza fire thank goodness, although a number of firefighters we know are there. He stays home and helps cover their local shifts, usually.) And, the clock was ticking toward the time when he was going to bed, as he had to be up at 5 AM.

I bargained. "Can I get my spanking?" I asked. "But write about it tomorrow, so I can finish?"

He agreed. And he used the couch instead of trying to move a dining room chair through the chaos I'd created in the kitchen. But I still wore the tennis skirt, my bottom still hates the bathbrush, and it was still bare.

The warm-up wasn't long, and I'm still taking Zicam to cut down on my coughing spells. But the bathbrush was painful. Painful. I made a lot of noise. And then I took the skirt off, hung it up and climbed up on the kitchen counter to scrub out the tiled base of our kitchen's garden window. I don't grow plants in it, but it still gets dirty after all.

If not for the reassurance spanking, I don't think I wouldn't have gotten a spanking last night. So I'm glad we did it. But I do confess to being a little frustrated about feeling that we have to fit it in. Now, this is partly my own creation, because I consciously don't ask on the days and nights we've been flirting and playing around with each other for hours. I hardly need reassured on those nights - some of those nights I can damn well barely walk.

Yes, the kitchen is clean. I've got the tasks on my desk mostly finished, except for the actual stuff I get paid to do. I'm writing my blog post. I'm wondering if I'm going to have half-expected but not-really-planned company this afternoon or if I'll get to go to the playground and grocery shopping with the princess. I'm wanting caffeine and food. I still have to clean the family room, and I have loads of laundry to do.

But I still like my spankings, even if they hurt and I don't want them when I'm getting them. Does that make any sense?

Someone asked me if we had set a time period for how long we were going to try these. I didn't have an answer. We set up and negotiated the rules, so to speak, but not a timeframe. I do think it's becoming sort of institutionalized, but I don't think Chris was terribly eager to spank me last night. He was tired, he has (justifiably) a lot on his mind professionally and is concerned about the events in Riverside County and well... it was late. It was clear that it wasn't going to lead to anything. But he still did it. And he made it hurt. And I'm glad he did. That's what really reassures me, I think - that he makes the effort to do it even when it's not the best timing for him, either.