Thursday, May 21, 2009

Hurts SO good

Jerry knew what was happening, but out of respect, spent most of the time out on the deck. Josh was told to “not interrupt Mom. Ask Dad if you need something.”

I went into the front room, turned on the small lamp and pulled the curtains closed. I was wearing black shorts and a peach tank top.

He began slowly, with purpose. He proceeded to work me into a frenzy. I used every "accessory" available for this. It felt good - real good.

He'd speak to me, giving me direction, "you're not opening up" or "Nice!" at all the right moments, coaching me, guiding me. He made me work for my treats.

He knew every movement I made. He told me if I wasn't doing it right. He encouraged me with his words and often took time to demonstrate the exact movements I needed to do it perfectly and reap the maximum rewards for my efforts.

He was the finest teacher, patient and encouraging, "We won't move on until you're completely comfortable with the movements."

Once I got into a rhythm, the compliments flowed from his lips:

“Yeah, you’re really working it, girl!”

“You’re in total control."

“With moves like that, I can tell you mean business.”

“THAT was a powerful stroke!”

“Oh yeah, you’re owning it.”

“Finish strong!”

“Keep up that pace – it’s perfect!”


He really got me all worked up. I often felt a bit flushed, and found myself responding to his words with phrases of my own such as:

“Yeah, you like that?”

“How do you like this move?”

"Watch this."

"I'll show YOU determined."

“I’ve got your stroking right here.”

"Here's my 'big finish', tough guy"

Yes, what began as a calm partnership, turned into a primal exercise in showmanship with a strong desire to do more, achieve more, and reach the pinnacle at the proper time

In the end, I was completely satisfied. I was totally hot, a bit sweaty and panting. My thighs were aching. So were my breasts. Next time, I’ll leave my bra on. Too much swaying
and bouncing around hurts even the smallest boobs.

I think next time, I will try having a female partner. It will be interesting to see if she can get me as hot as the man did.

Have I mentioned that I got the new EA Sports Active for my Wii two days ago? I haven't even been to the customized work outs. I've completed day 2 of the "30-day Challenge" and my thighs are already tingling with soreness, indicating I've really worked them hard (like I do with my man).

I am actually looking forward to see what Day 3 holds this evening, if my thighs will allow me to.

One of thesedays, I’m going to be able to crush walnuts with my thighs, bounce quarters off of my ass and actually put on a bikini without cringing. Just you wait and see.

Monday, May 11, 2009

Mother's Day, 2009

It started like every other day. At the crack of dawn, with the birds singing, and a little hint of light pushing its way through the blinds. The bedroom door creaks open, ever so slowly. The wiener stirs a bit, emits a low growl. A quick thump on the bed with the heel of my foot stops her instantly. And that is where the normalcy ends.

In a flash, the door slams shut, as I feel 47 pounds of pure boy-child bounding onto the bed, yanking the covers to get under. He snuggles up next to me, sharing my pillow and in his not-as-of-yet-volume-regulated-loud-ass voice says to me, “It’s time for your Mother’s Day snuggles!”

We get up together, Daddy still asleep on the couch having once again fallen asleep there (and no, I don’t make him sleep there. We just don’t always keep the same hours and he tends to nod off into a deep sleep while watching some incredibly boring show such as, “How to build a bridge out of tinker toys that will withstand a herd of Clydesdales.” So fascinating that within moments, everything (dogs included) that is within earshot of the show is enjoying a deep, deep slumber.

But I digress…

We go on about our normal morning with Josh stopping to give me “Mother’s Day hugs” along the way. After Jerry gets up, Josh proudly presents me with a new flag/banner pole set, complete with an American flag. How did he know it was exactly what I wanted? I truly am a lucky mom.

After more MD hugs and kisses, we were off! Over the river and through the woods. You got it, to grandmother’s house we went!

While there, we planted the flowers we bought her. Some of them along her walkway and others in a pretty cement “basket” that made it to West Point from Paris. Paris, TN that is.

The rest of the day, I spent with Josh and my niece Briar, playing on the swings, the trampoline, eating grape popsicles, and getting deer ticks. What fun!

Josh, as usual, stole the day with one statement. One statement alone will live in infamy. It will always set this Mother’s Day apart from every other one.

He was sitting on the swing, trying in vain to make it go. He looked up at the adults sitting at the picnic table and uttered the following statement:

Are you ready for it?

Are you sitting?

Are you in a place where if you burst out laughing, no one will care?

OK then, in the infamous words of Charlie (inside joke with Meagan) HERE IT COMES!

“Can somebody get me high?”

Hope your weekend was marvelous. Here are snippets of mine.


Tuesday, May 5, 2009

Life with Sicko

Friday, Josh and I stayed home because he had a high fever and, “it hurts to swallow, mom.”

After a little give and take between the Tylenol and fever, I finally packed Josh up and took him in to the doctor. The entire ride there, he was beside himself with worry. “Will they stick that thing in my throat that makes me choke? I don’t want to go to the doctor. They’ll choke me and give me shots.”


We got in there and the doctor looks in his throat, then in his ears. He lifted up his shirt and looked at his tummy and said, “I don’t have to swab. It’s definitely strep and scarlet fever.”

Scarlet fever? WTF? Is this the 1920’s? Wasn’t that all the rage back then? I don’t know. I had no idea what scarlet fever was. Didn’t people die from that? Or go blind? Grow hair on their palms?

“Some seasons, for reasons unaccountable, scarlet fever appears in a malignant
form. Such an epidemic occurred in the winter of 1879 in the little village of
Harrison, Ohio, nearly every case resulting fatally, and this was my first
introduction to scarlet fever. So intense was it, and so fatal in its results,
that I have ever had a dread of this disease, and when scarlet fever appears,
there rises before me a picture of that epidemic of 1879.”


The doctor must have read my face, and said, “It’s just a rash that accompanies strep throat sometimes.” *whew*

Later, when I called my mom to fill her in, she wasn’t aware of scarlet fever even still being around, or anything about it.

“How do they treat scarlet fever?” she asked.

“Oh, it’s pretty easy. We just have to watch ‘Gone With the Wind’ over and over until Josh is no longer attracted to Vivien Leigh.”

Seriously though, he gave Josh an Rx for Augmentin.

Ever since, Josh has been off of the hook. Running, talking, not listening, throwing things, breaking toys, defiant – a monster. When you ask him what’s going on, the boy starts to cry. We’re talking real tears, not the big fake crocodile tears that come out of one eye at a time. No, these are a steady stream of genuine confusion.

I called the pharmacy last night, and they said that agitation, hyper motor activity and mood swings can be side effects of Augmentin in children.

I called the doctor this morning and told him to take my kid off of it and call in something else. Back to Omnicef, which we’ve had 85,000 times with each ear infection, so I know he tolerates it well.

I think I may have preferred swine flu.

This blog is crap!