Dog Mom’s Life 01

I get up earlier- even setting a second alarm in case my live cat alarm is off.    I mean I can coax my cat to crawl back under the covers which is basically like hitting the snooze button.

I wear my converse or tennis shoes rather than try and maneuver a 70lb dog in heels.  I often sport a ponytail too.    I don’t wear as much make up.  Self explanatory.

I carry treats, doggy bags, and have given up my sports car for the time being.   I have been to the pet store more than the clothing store.  My therapist is seeing me every 3 weeks now.  Getting ready to cut the cord. Eeek.  She says I have a Therapy Dog now.  I feel like I have something I needed?  Someone who goes into the world with me when I would otherwise be alone.   A strength who needs my strength.

Stewart Little used to do this.  He would go everywhere with me/with us.  But he went with little.  I spose I needed something to go with BIG.  just a theory.  

One of my birthday presents was a shirt that says #DogMom’sLife.

How does it affect my relationship with My Man?  We live and learn.  We fight and love.   It is like adding another child to a couple who have completely different parenting styles and goals.    I knew this when I embarked.

My Man who is now the doggy daddy has worked hard to be able to afford the kennels, food, fencing, and training for our new guy.  I appreciate him taking on this added responsibility.  He gets up earlier too.  He walks in the rain.  He continues to show me he is Mr. Dependable.






Letting the Daisy Decide

It started at a young age- the burning desire to know if the person you liked felt the same affection for you.   If they “liked liked” you.  Especially when crushes were on someone that you didn’t talk to or possibly even know it could not be behavior based.   It might have been a boy in fourth grade or someone from Tiger Beat.   The mystery was easily solved with magical thinking and a handful of daisies.

Remember laying in the grass, feeling the sun shine on you,  while you held a little white flower in your hand that had the answers to your destiny?   Plucking a single petal off as if you would die without this little knowing flower;“he loves me- He loves me not”.  Such magical thinking.  Yes we all pulled those petals off until we got the answer we wanted right?

I still  find myself seeking re-affirmation of my partner’s love.

I last posted about my D offering to help with making the dinner bread.    What you don’t know is I had heard the song Skyfall on the radio and put us into the words.   THAT IS US.   That is him.  The mindset before writing that little post.   Him offering to help with dinner was the he loves me, he loves me not.

Reality is he did not want the dog to eat the bread so he offered to do it if I a was going to change my clothes.   Does it change anything?  NO.  we still keep pulling of the petals until we get the answer we want.

The interesting thing is to look at the ways we replace the daisy with other behaviors.  Looking for evidence that the other person  feels the same way we do.

Do these become tests?   If he loves me he will sleep with me.  If he sleeps on the couch- he loves me not.   If he loves me he will come after me.  He lets me leave the room upset- he loves me not.

The love me not method to re- affirm affection  leaves out the other person.    When we were younger crushes were about fantasy.  Day dreaming how things might be.  It was not about the other person’s feelings.


Didn’t we spend lots of time thinking how it might be?  Do we still spend time with those thoughts?  How do the images we see feed the fantasy and not the reality?

Do we also shape tests into validating our D/s?   If he was a Dom he would tell me to drink my water, or kneel.  Those are unfair tests.  They are one sided.   Isn’t it unsubmissive to be administering tests?

He loves, He loves me not.    That seems a discussion between the two of us.  I should let him know what I need to feel loved and I want to know what HE NEEDS too.







Asshats, DickMonkeys, and TeaBags Oh No

McComments on my blog from the year 2015

  • I am in my mid 40’s, the boss and feared.
  • Oh, and I carry a Miss Piggy purse.
  • Giggling!!!
  • Ohhhhh!!!! McAssHat!!! Lololol. Thats PERFECT! I hate spiders. Daddy aleays has to kill them fast. Sometimes he torments me and says they’re just little and we should let them live. Shudder.
  • OMFG!!! The SOCK MONKEY STOCKINGS!!!!!!!!! I’ll have to respond later to the post. I’ve got to find those stockings!!!
  • And Asshat is such a great word!! Right?
  • Asshatter … Misdickunderstandings….you make me laugh even when you write seriously wonderful stuff. So glad you are in a new place and leaving all the dickmonkeying around behind.
  • I am NOT going to listen to your ass castles. Do not give me that ass castle look. Get your ass castle over here.
  • I should look for something to motivate me. That’s a really good point. I DO really hate all the dick monkeys who populate these venues.
  • Giggles. I agree. I worked in dickmonkey to about 10 conversations this week.
  • Ugh. I hate when Daddies twist words. And why can’t water flavored like TEA be acceptable?
  • And I’m sick of Daddies learning tricks from each other like water consumption for hapless babygirls.
  • And I’m sick of water.

Those are just from Jan- April.  Any guesses who might have made these comments?

Sock Wars

Every day I ask myself where are my socks.  WHY can’t I find any socks.  I mull about like a drunken zombie moaning and mumbling “sock”.   Those close to me don’t get involved.  They ignore me mostly.  Once in a while someone might ask me what I am doing.  As soon as they hear about socks….bam. they disappear.  Then it happens…I spy the remains of what might be a precious.

OMG a sock!!!   Precious.   Holding it up to the light….

I have learned to limit my time and effort on searching for an exact match.  It makes my life easier.  So No- my socks don’t always match.  I am smart enough to wear boots though.  It is war and I am determined to win.

I mean here I am sitting at work with a sweater dress on and leggings (because tights would be too much like long long socks) and no one is any wiser that I have these little pink socks on under my brand new boots.

I feel like today I won the sock war.


Ritz Cracker Math

You should know that weeks ago I already determined, based on actual intake, that 6 ritz crackers along with cheese and meat is the perfect snack.  Perfect in that it does not leave you too full or leave you hungry either.

Today I reached into the ritz cracker box and there were 3 ritz crackers in the wrapper.

I had to open a new package.

This led to questions about who determines the amount of ritz crackers in the package or in the BOX?  Apparently this is important enough that my brain stays with this line of questioning.  It gets interesting but I move into solving mode.  I determine it must be based on weight.  Well that was very BIG of me.


Everyone is talking about wanting to go out.  “I gotta go out, let’s go out, we should go out.”

They go out and then they say, ” I gotta get home,  let’s go home, we should get back.”