Wednesday, June 14, 2017

Some Interesting Thoughts to Ponder....

I have one thought that keeps permeating my mind lately.  I wonder, often, as this lifestyle is hidden from family and friends, or at least the nitty gritty details of it are, about a few things.
First and foremost on my mind is would I want this lifestyle for any of our children?  You know those little rugrats that are always looking up to us, trying to figure us out, and drive us crazy all at the same time?

Our children do not know that Hoss spanks me, but they do know that Hoss is in charge and he has the final say.  Over the past year I have deferred to him for more things than ever before. Do they see a difference?  Aside from less arguing and more joy between their parents, do they see the changes going on?  I do not know the answer to this question exactly, but I do think they notice their parents are more loving and kind to one another, less strife, more patience.   Would I want for them to experience this lifestyle for their own when they become adults?  I'm not sure if I know how to answer that one just yet. Very curious what others think.....

Secondly, who, if anyone do you share this lifestyle with?
We do not openly share this lifestyle with others in our family, but do they notice a change?  

My mother has noticed a difference.  Mom has remarked that I'm happier, but also is frustrated when I defer to Hoss.  She has said often that she understands me wanting to be submissive (Biblical submission is what we discuss), but not why I have to ask him about plans and things that I used to just make on my own.  Mom knows I've always been so independent, so I know she's a bit confused at the change, not telling her though.  Good grief, can you imagine how that conversation would go down?  Yeah, not going there, folks.

My best friend has questioned me at times about how I'm always listening to my husband.  I have desired to share with her probably the most, but cannot.  That would just be so awkward.  Would she understand?  She's not particularly submissive, so I'm not sure she would.  
I'm thankful I can blog and get things out and off my chest.  I'm thankful for the other bloggers who have answered my bazillion of questions and listened to my endless thoughts.  For that I am extremely appreciative. 

I also wonder, if there were no adverse repercussions, who would I tell first?

So, what about the rest of you.  Do you share with loved ones?  Would you want this for your children? Would you even feel comfortable sharing this lifestyle or suggesting it to a friend?  I'm full of questions and ponderings this morning. 
Let me know what you think, I'm all ears!

--Baker

Tuesday, June 6, 2017

I Have A Problem...



It's actually a bunch of little problems.  

Okay, that's not quite right.  

I actually think it's a lot of little people causing me a lot of little problems.  

Now, a few bloggers out there have reminded me throughout the past seven months that this blog is mine and I can post about any issue as I see fit.  Well, today the issue is socks.  
Wait, that's not quite what I mean.  Socks are just a part of my issue.  Socks are good things. They keep your feet warm or absorb your sweaty feet odors (come on we all know we have them) or maybe are just cute and comfy and make you giggle with cute little sayings on them.  I mean they can be such a fun part of your wardrobe!  Well, these cute, comfy little critters are causing me a whole lot of issues.  

They are unmanageable.  I wash them and they either multiply or divide themselves in the washer or dryer or both.  I really do not know.  There are either not enough of them to match or too many or the wrong size or the wrong color or something.  I really do NOT know.  

What I do know is my husband has a sock fetish.  I mean he really likes to wear them.  Like to work.  Apparently, they have this weird dress code where he works that requires him to always have socks on his feet.  I know, they are a bunch of crazy nutty people out there expecting a grown man to show up with socks EVERY DAY! 

In my little world of children socks should only be necessary if one is going outside, in public, with shoes on.  In my children's world, that is not necessarily true.  As in children in my little piece of America, think socks alone are okay to wear outside.  Like they cannot wear them in the house, no they must be worn outside without shoes and they must be returned covered in dirt or mud or grass or squished bugs or wet or ????  So in my opinion, no reason for said children to have socks unless we are leaving the house to be in a public setting that requires shoes.
In my world I wear socks every day, all day and also to bed because my feet are always cold.  I put them in the laundry basket.  I wash them and mate them and put them in my drawer.  I am pretty much the only one in my family that understands the real system here.

Well, back to my man.  You know, Hoss.  It would not be so inconvenient if said Hoss used his wonderfully intelligent and smart brain to utilize the system that he came up with to help his absolutely equally wonderful, sweet wife manage the socks of several children.  
Just a side note here:  The children and wife do not like the system and have a very difficult time following said system, but it's his system and he is HOH and well, if he wants said system in place it is in place (in theory) and said wife and children should just have to comply, except when they do not.  

Okay, is everyone thoroughly confused yet?  

Okay, okay, I'll slow down a bit.  Hoss needs socks for work.  Every day.  I must provide said socks as I am in charge of laundry.  Hoss has a system to help me not lose said socks and help to keep them matched.  I am to keep each individual person in our house's socks in individual lingerie bags.  They put clean matched socks from the dryer into their drawers and put dirty socks into the bags to be washed.  The children do NOT comply with said system very well and neither do I.  I find it tedious.  Especially, when the one who created said system does not follow it.

There, I think that's clearer.  This pet peeve that Hoss has, has in turn caused me a great amount of trouble.  Like when he reaches in his drawer for a clean pair and there are NONE.  I know you all did a gasp.  The same gasp as I do when I frantically leap out of bed to hunt down a clean, matching pair of socks for my man to wear.  Yes, this happens more often than I care to admit in my blog, but it happens frequently enough that yours truly has had swats applied to her backside on at least one occasion when said socks did not appear quickly enough.  You knew there had to be a spanking in here somewhere, right?  Stupid sock fetish!
This little issue has been an issue for 15 years.  Hoss has never taken care of his socks, but that was manageable until, well, maybe like 10 or 11 when little people learned to put their own shoes and socks on and I became less concerned about where they put the leftover or used ones.  Hoss likes to make them into little balls and let them fall off the bed onto the floor because apparently it is too difficult to take them off before getting into bed.  Or he will shed them under the computer desk because his feet became randomly too hot.  The children.  I have no idea where they put their socks.  To be honest I do not want to know.
I truly am the only one in the house that typically know where my socks are.  That and one sweet child who thinks the world of his momma and actually understands that socks do not miraculously appear like a dollar from the tooth fairy on their bed in the morning.  He will make some woman happy one day if I can keep everyone else from their negative sock influence.  To the other future spouses of my children.  I apologize ahead of time.  I have tried!
Hoss, does not understand my dilemma and it is my dilemma.   I figure if no one else cares to manage their socks then, why should I?
I just want people to not wear socks.  Or if they do wear them to take care of the ones they have, so I can find them when it is time to wash them.  And I do not believe anyone should have the right to complain if they do not understand the concept that dirty clothes should go into a laundry basket, gasp, and not beside it, and not under the bed or computer desk or stuffed in the couch.  
Ahhh, I feel so much better just sharing this quandary with you all.  Even if you all think me a bit odd for sharing it.

Have a great, sock free day!

--Baker









Sunday, June 4, 2017

When My Submission Went MIA

There are days that we are humming along doing very well.  It feels as if there is almost a magic in our home that abounds peace and happiness like nothing we have ever experiences before.  Then there are days such as yesterday where it does not matter how hard we try things fall apart and there seems that there is little to no ability to recover.  
The day started like a typical Saturday, quiet, everyone sleeping in..  I was up early, but feeling a bit off. Not a huge concern.  We had a busy day ahead of us, so I was preparing breakfast and losing patience rapidly with a little one who was particularly whiny.  By the time I made it downstairs to Hoss I was feeling way off, but trying very hard to keep my cool.  We had an errand to run that required us to be out the door shortly after 9.  We were back home by ten and things took a dreadful turn.  

I blew up over a few things he was trying to explain to me that needed to be done.  I may have rolled my eyes a bit.  He reacted as any HOH would and retrieved Bertha from her secret lair.  Things went downhill quickly from there.  I did not submit readily.  I argued about not needing a spanking.  I wanted to talk things out. There was a lot of "I this", and "I that," going on.   It was one of those spankings that came rapidly and in my mind out of nowhere.  I was unprepared mentally for the assault on my backside and was pleading and negotiating for a break from the first swat.  While I was trying to do a very ungraceful swim on the bed to get away from the brush he was demanding for me to stay in position and well, neither of us were very successful in our pursuits.  Then it happened.  A huge, huge no no here.  I flung my hand back and he accidentally caught my fingertips with the swat he was delivering.  He dropped the brush and walked away.  Guilt ridden for almost injuring my hand, he left the room.  I was thanking the good Lord the kids were occupied outside and they did not hear the craziness going on in our room.  I lay on the bed, butt hurting, fingers smarting, and trying to figure out what had just transpired.  It was a hard spanking, but it was more the fact that I was not submitting.  I was fighting the spanking.  What was going on with me?  

He returned a few minutes later, apologized to me for striking my fingers and reiterated why I am not allowed to fling my hands about or try in a vain attempt to cover my backside.  He then finished up the spanking.  We hugged for a moment.  I would like to say that was the end of things. It should have been over. Wrongs were righted by the spanking, yes?  Nope, not this time.  Typically when I’m in the wrong I admit it and we move on.  All is forgiven.  

Not so this time.  This time I was left feeling angry and frustrated with myself.  Yes, we had both apologized for mistakes made, but I had failed to submit.  I was for all intensive purposes acting as if I had never heard of ttwd/dd and what it means to our marriage.  I had failed to submit to one of the simplest of his commands and I had in fact put myself in more danger by acting like a fish out of water, flipping and flopping around.  What was going on with me?  I thought I had moved past this kind of reaction. Where had my submission gone?

Hoss had left for work, so I spent some time reflecting.  Then napping.  Sometimes a nap helps to improve my outlook.  It did not.  Typically processing things out in my head helps.  It did not.  I basically walked away from things just as confused and upset as when it started. My attitude towards my husband deteriorated as the day went on, even though it was not his fault, I was still blaming him.  My mind would not let it go that he did not listen to me.   Yes, I know, it was his right to decide how to handle the situation, but for some reason I just could not let things go.

Finally, later in the evening, my sweet friend, Bea, messaged me.  We hashed things out.  Me, explaining my thoughts and feelings.  Bea, reminding and questioning, trying to understand where I was at emotionally.  I call her, “my voice of reason.”  It was through this process that I think the answer finally came.  I had felt unheard.  I had felt out of control.  I had tried to be in charge.  Not my job, not my role,  a lot of “not mys” going around.

When Hoss went to spank I had not thought we were headed into a spanking.  I was still very much into the moment of trying to explain my position.  I had not had time to process that we had moved from talking to a spanking.  I am typically given a minute to grab a pillow, undress, and get into position.  I was not given those luxuries.  I was told to lay down and he started.  No rituals.  No “stalling” as Hoss calls it.  No time to mentally prepared.  I was being roasted and toasted before I mentally had moved past the words and talking part to the action part.  I was trying to be in control of the spanking because I was not ready.  I am a control freak most of the time anyway, so when I felt out of control I acted out of control.  Flipping and flopping is not the norm.  I was out of control mentally and physically.  

Once I was able to identify what was going on in my head, I was better able to have a heart to heart with my man.  It was then the guilt set in and we were able to deal with the issues that had transpired.  I went to sleep cuddled up next to my man, with my head on his chest and felt heard, validated and cherished.  I realized by giving up the control I was actually finding my submission was not lost, just a bit misplaced.  That even on days when submission alludes me he is still there, my sweet loving man, gently helping me and not so gently helping me to get where I truly wish to be.  


Have a blessed Sunday everyone!

--Baker

Thursday, June 1, 2017

I Will Try....Again

It’s the wee hours of the morning here.  I am awake, which for me is odd.  I am usually up at the crack of dawn, but seriously there’s no inkling of any dawn cracking here.  Nope.  Not even close.  What there is a wife, riddled with guilt, over a poor choice that she knows she has an early morning reckoning coming.  


Last night before bed my husband had some words for me.  Was I listening?  Did I hear him?  Yes, actually I did.  So much so that when I woke up in the middle of the night his words were still right there echoing quietly in my ears.  Did I understand?  Yes, I do now, but at the time of the incident in question I did not see the significance of his request.


A week ago, this past Monday, I had seen the doctor regarding an ear infection.  Instead of an antibiotic I was given a good dose of steroids to “calm the swelling down.”  I went to fill the prescription and called my husband to tell him what the doctor said.  He had asked me to call my endocrinologist and make sure there would be no adverse side effects.  I verbally agreed, but in my mind I knew I probably would not be following through. I knew more about my body and I had been on steroids for my asthma oodles of times before.  I did not need to waste the nurse’s time with endless questions about medications.  By the time sweet Hoss had followed up I was in full blown crazy mode (due to the steroids), miserable and in worse pain from the ear infection.  His instinct to care for me and cut me plenty of slack had kicked in.  He mentioned a few times about calling the doctor, but I still did not.  Yes, I know, but crazy lady had shown up and reasoning is not her forte.



Fast forward to last night.  I had been Tuesday to see the doctor again as my ear was no better.  After my appointment I had filled the prescription for an antibiotic and Hoss informed me I would be calling the endocrinologist and reporting these new medications.  There would be no questioning this time.  I was back in my right frame of mind and I was to obey.  I did call and leave a message on Tuesday afternoon and heard back early yesterday morning.  Hoss had been busy at work and had not received my text until late that afternoon, so it was not until last night when we were discussing our day was he reminded of the med issue.  I reported to him what the nurse had said and that is when the lecture of disobedience had surfaced from the week prior.  He must have been stewing over this for the entire ten days, unbeknownst to me.  See, I was under the impression we had moved on.  Let’s just say, in his mind we had not.  

He laid out his point of view regarding his position and I was not to talk, but simply listen.  
That is so incredibly, astronomically hard for me.  This is where I can easily get into so much trouble with interrupting!

This time I knew I had not a leg to stand on.   I did listen fully as I knew he was absolutely right.  I needed to hear his words.  He was pouring out his love and concern for me and my well being.  I literally felt like a complete moron for not listening the first time.  We went on to other activities after his lecture.  A while later he called me to cuddle with him and he reminded me again how precious I was to him, how much he loved me, how he truly only had my best interest at heart.



So now the guilt has set in.  I know that there’s little chance to get out of a spanking.  I do not even wish to, as I know the guilt will vanish and we can move on.  I’m not relishing or eager to be at the spanking part of this discussion, but I do know the benefits will definitely outweigh these feelings of hurt and discord.  I know there will be forgiveness, I know he has already forgiven me, but it will take the spanking to allow me to forgive myself. 



See, not so long ago, prior to dd, I would have totally and utterly gaffed my husband off.  Now, I just do not do that.  I try to listen and do as he requests.  I try to respect his opinion and not take it with a grain of salt.  I do try very hard in this area to submit willingly to his authority.  So when I mess up like this it really, really bothers me.  It makes me feel as if I have made no progress in this area at all.  Yes, yes, I know there has been a good amount of forward momentum, but it is times like this where I question have I really changed much at all?  I want to please him and show him with my actions the respect he deserves. I do not want this kind of backsliding, and yet I know there’s a process to be learned here.



 

So in the morning, I will.  I will listen to his words and take them to heart.  I will submit and learn from this incident and make progress again.  I will move past these negative feelings and do my best to submit again.  I will simply….try again.

Happy Thursday!
--Baker




Wednesday, May 31, 2017

Saying, "Hi!"

Not much going on around here except tons of kid stuff and recuperating.  I thought I'd pop in and say hello, but realized that I did not have anything profound or even very interesting to say, though I've missed posting.
Basically, my health has been such that spankings have been minimal.  The interesting thing about this is my attitude has been full fledged raving lunatic off and on for ten long days.  Probably best I did not choose to blog those days!  
Thyroid meds wreak havoc on my body as I have been dealing with a med change, but add some predisone for a severe ear infection and I took things to a whole new level of crazy. 
I do not enjoy creating drama and my sweet husband does not enjoy being at the receiving end of said drama.  Poor man showed more restraint and mercy than I have seen from him. What was he to do? Spank me senseless?
I'm about a hundred percent sure that crossed his mind at least a dozen times! Let's just say that thankfully I am on the mend and sporting a nicely sore bum this morning.  Funny how set to rights I am emotionally right now.  So, some may wonder why he did not spank, it was just an ear infection, right?  
Yes, well, my entire balance was off, I was hyper, I was sleeping three hours a night and in a great amount of pain that made me miserable and beyond cranky.  Thankfully, things are better and we are set to rights, but good golly, I was happy when the gentle caretaker left the building and my stern, but sweet HOH returned.  Sometimes when he shows such gentleness I decide to march all over him as I used to.  Not that I seek to do that, but I definitely do not show good character at that time.  Meds or not, it's not acceptable and truly not a pleasant situation for anyone to want to be around!  
When he does not stand up and deal with the issues at hand I tend to spiral down and make matters worse.  I think it was with much relief when I told him this morning that I was feeling well enough for a reset, and reset he did!  Bertha came out and paid her respects to my bum.  When it was all over and I was curled up next to him he kissed my forehead and the feelings of being cherished washed over me.  
I still wonder how and why this works, but today, right now, I'm just thankful it does.  I relish feelings so secure and loved.

Hope you are all well and enjoying life.
--Baker

Sunday, May 21, 2017

Saturday

Some days, I find myself not making my relationship with my husband the priority it deserves. I find my attention drifting to other things whether it be kids, housework, friends, or general busyness.  I found myself in such a place last evening, not a fun place to be, let me share with you...

It was a good Saturday.  Nothing really going on for most of us, which is definitely unusual.  Hoss had to work for several hours in the afternoon, but had decided to take one of our older kids to a special outing in the morning.  That was fine, I was feeling up to doing cleaning and laundry and parenting, so no real worries. 

By mid morning, I was feeling off.  I did laundry and puttered around, but  my body was telling me to rest.  I did.  I crawled into bed.   As I laid back on my pillows I chatted with friends, checked my email, read some, kept myself busy with folding laundry.  I was frustrated with Hoss, though.  When I have a really down day health wise he wants to help, check in often, care for me, even when he is at work. Most days I do not mind this, it's very loving.  Not yesterday.  Yesterday, I felt he was mother henning me to death.  He kept questioning me about not feeling well, questioning me about taking my meds, overall, he was, well, just bugging me and driving me nuts.  I was feeling snippy by the time he'd called a second time.  I held my tongue, but was just having a tough time of it.  

When we got off the phone, I decided maybe a nap was in order and fell asleep quickly.  When I woke up I did feel some better.  Unfortunately, by the time he arrived home later that night I found myself "touched out".  As a mom of many, there are days I literally become overly sensitive to touch.   Yesterday was one of those days.  When I become "touched out" I tend to also find myself with an attitude.  Last night, I also found myself to be very busy.  I was still feeling cranky and wanted to avoid my sweet man.  I decided then that I had the energy to do sorts of things.  I went to switch laundry around, I went to check on the kids, I did stuff.  I had to go back into our room to locate a few more hangers and fussed that I could not find enough hangers for his work clothes.  He asked if he could help and I told him, "no," while I continued to stew.   Some days I can be such a brat.

I still was not feeling well and my body finally yelled at me to rest.  I crawled into bed, but as I did so, I turned my back on him and began messaging my dd friend, Bea.  She had no idea I was using her as an escape, while I continued to ignore my husband as we messaged back and forth.  I know, that had she known I was struggling, she would have talked me off the ledge and told me to make up with my man.  She's very helpful like that.  I was feeling very stubborn and did not want help calming myself down.    
Let's just say, there are days Bea has her hands full when talking some sense into me!

Hoss began to try to coax me away from my precious phone.  He knew I was tired and he was desperately trying to give me grace.  He asked me to cuddle with him.  I told him I was all touched out. He suggested we talk or watch tv together.  I told him I had nothing to say to him.  He turned his back on me.  His anger was apparent and I knew that once his anger calmed down a bit I would be in for one unpleasant reckoning.  

Now, for some of you, your husbands would have reacted immediately to this kind of behavior.  Our circumstances are not such that we can always handle things right then and there.  Yes, I had crossed a line.  Yes, I knew he would deal with things in due time.  But not right then. We had kids still awake upstairs.  He knew this.  He also knew his anger was not in check.  He said to turn out the light he was going to bed.  I did and shame washed over me.  Here was my sweet man, who had taken time out of his work day to check on me, love on me from afar, allowed me so much grace and I'd acted like I could not give him the time of day.  My heart was sad.  I tried to rub his back.  I tried to get him to talk to me. He refused and told me to put the kids to bed.  I went and did as I was told, but could not sleep.

In the early hour of the morning, when the kids were all still tucked in bed, I paid for my nasty, ungrateful attitude with a mighty hard reminder of how I was to treat my man.  I did not beg to be let up as I often do.  I did not have a snarky or sarcastic attitude either.  I needed that reset as much as he did. Then, when he did let me up, we talked it all out.  He was still very upset.  I asked if he was done spanking.  He thought it over for about half a second.
No, round two commenced even harder.  When it was finally over and both our attitudes were restored to rights, I was so sore.  I cuddled into him as he held me.  

I am thankful for all the reconnect the spanking brought.  The wonderful thing is the anger was completely gone.  There was no lasting feelings of guilt or frustration.  We had dealt with the issue.  I was in the proper mindset to be submissive and today went well.  In the past, our anger or frustration could have lingered for hours if not days.  
Today I was able to appreciate every touch, every kiss, every phone call.  I was able to find my happiness in submitting to my man.  And it was truly wonderful.  

Have a great Monday, everyone!
--Baker 





Friday, May 19, 2017

My Un-TTWD Post

Hello, out there!  What a great morning to write.  So, the title today is exactly what it means.  I feel compelled to share some things with you that are not particularly TTWD related, but felt it may help some of you who were curious about why I had been rather sporadic in my posts of late.  Well, not the last few days, but over the past few months.  

TTWD/DD is definitely alive and well here, but it's a bit different.  I have had some health issues that are effecting our day to day lives and that has made doing anything extra rather...challenging?  I guess that's the correct wording.  At least, that is what I"m going with right now.  So let's chat a bit and see if I can explain things better.  Let's see if I can pull out my courage, as I rarely like to give time to such matters, but really want to share in case it may help someone else.

In my early years of college I had some "episodes" of fainting and low energy.  My parents were proactive and tried to figure out was going on.  There were times my energy level would drop out of no where and I was often exhausted and dehydrated for no known reason.  After a plethora of testing it was finally deemed I was hypoglycemic.  So, the recommendations consisted of small meals throughout the day and it seemed to regulate the problem.  No, real concern and things finally worked themselves out as I learned that a granola bar did not constitute a meal.  Yes, I was a college girl who would forget to eat and busy with school and work.  

After college I began my career and worked extremely long hours, but always had snacks on hand.  Fast forward a few years and Hoss and I were dating.  That December life changed in more ways than just an engagement.  I lost 20 pounds, started losing my hair, could not control my body temperature and would have frequent chills and bouts of confusion.  More testing.  The day after Christmas my doctor called and informed me that my thyroid had gone hyper to the point I was literally in danger of dying from a thyroid storm.  My levels were so high!  A mere three weeks later my thyroid was completely removed along with some of my parathyroids.  I'd had a goiter that was benign, but had caused things to go cattywampus.  Poor Hoss, I have no idea how he tolerated all of the craziness, but I'm so happy he did!


Fast forward a few months to a lovely wedding and a honeymoon.  A busy start to our life and things were running fairly smoothly until I became pregnant.  A few weeks in morning sickness hit with vengeance.  No, problem, right?  Everyone has morning sickness.  By week 13, I was feeling better, but then something else started to happen.  What we came to know as "lows" or "drops" happened frequently.  The doctors were not sure what was going on, but the OBGYN kept adjusting my thyroid meds as that seems to be the problem and I drank a ton of electrolytes and ate those small meals (and sometimes not so small meals) a day.  Love those pregnancy craving!  Things went well.  We had a beautiful new baby and lots of love to go around.  Each subsequent pregnancy brought more of the same.  Lots of drops and morning sickness worse with every pregnancy until the last one which literally went until my third trimester.  My OBGYN, recommended an endocrinologist, but my insurance would not cover it because our family doctor did not see it as necessary.  I made the mistake and let it go.  We were done with having babies and all seemed fine, well I coped.  I never had energy.  I liked our doctor and did not want to change just so I could see a specialist.  I was getting by.  I did not want to make waves.  I used a ton of excuses.  I became depressed.

Fast forward to the fact that we started TTWD/DD and Hoss found his voice.  Finally, when my cousin passed suddenly in March, and had similar symptoms throughout her life as I have had, he said, enough.  Hoss had me make a doctor's appointment with our doctor and when the results came back "fine" he said, "No, you go back in there and tell him you need to see an endo."  Well, I did.  My doctor told me it was a waste of time, that my thyroid numbers were all within normal range and I would be disappointed when the endo doc did nothing for me.  He also said it would take several months because of there being only a few endocrinologist in our area.  I said it was worth the risk and when I had an appointment the following week. Yes, literally the following week,  Hoss went with me.  

Guess what?  Yeah, I'm sure you already guessed.  My level were not correct.  Not only that they were severely out of whack.  So the specialist recommended some changes, but said it would take several weeks for my body to adjust to the additional meds.  Well, it felt like I've been stuck in crazy town for the last eight weeks.  Adjustments mean I have had times of no energy, times of wild hormones, inability to regulate my body temperature, heart racing or slowing, among other symptoms as my body tries to adjust to the medications.  

Let's just say, if my sweet hubby had not found a voice I would have settled for status quo.  I'm just complacent and do not like to make waves.  I put myself in a dangerous spot, but things are better.  Yes, my man said, "I told you so!"  Even so, Hoss has had to give me a great amount of leeway.  If I am tired I have to nap.  This is not an option.  The doctor insisted that was one of the best things to do was to listen to my body.  Eat my beloved carbs, no dieting until I go back in June.  Then hopefully, I will be able to find a lower carb diet that will not exasperate the symptoms.  The ultra low carb diet was making my condition worse.  So, I am coming back.  The lows and drops are less, bouts of craziness better, and energy is returning. 

So why share all of this?  I am hoping at least one person will learn from my mistakes.  Do not settle when it comes to your health.  Maybe, you have thought there was something wrong and your doctor has said things were fine.  Maybe, you have a lack of energy and wonder, if there may be a problem going on, but do not follow through.  Who knows, maybe the whole purpose of this post is to motivate you to push harder to find an answer.  Whatever the reason I felt so compelled to write this, I hope it helps someone.  Trust me, it is very hard for me to share as it is such a personal and scary experience for me, but I want to be real and truthful.  I want you to know that I care about those out there who are struggling and realize I struggle to.  I struggle to acknowledge I am not super woman, even though many tease me that I am.  I'm just me, doing the best I can, with one of the most amazing man to love me.


Thanks for listening.  Sending my love to you all.  
--Baker