I'm Just a Pair of Boobs to Him.

For the past few weeks, one of my breasts has really been hurting me. It's like this constant, fierce, sharp stabbing pain. It's tender to touch and according to my husband, it seems a bit more lumpier than usual. And I have been incredibly tired and worn down (more than usual). So he wants to me to go and get it checked out to make sure it's not cancer or anything. But I can't help to wonder if it's just pms or something and if it were any other body part that hurt, say like my brain, he wouldn't care as much. Heaven forbid anything ever happen to the all important boobs. What in the world would he hold at night? My elbow?

I hate the fact that he has to snuggle up to them every night and if I push him away and don't want to be touched, he gets all mad and huffy and turns over in frustration. And then I'm the bitch. Who cares that his constant stress ball massaging and fondling of it keeps me awake even though I have to get up in the morning too and get the kids off to school and a day of Cinderella work ahead of me. Obviously not him; as long as he gets what he wants and is happy and gets a good nights rest.

Sometimes, I secretly wish that maybe I would not have my boobs anymore because it would be mean that he would actually have to love me for me - not just my boobs - or that he would get bored and leave and I could finally sleep good at night. I hate the fact that he untucks my shirt, hits the nipple, suctions to the boob and I'm stuck laying uncomfortably on my back all because they make him feel better. Well yea for you. Grow your own damn boobs then and leave mine the hell alone!

Where's the Passion?

I have been married for over 10 years now and my husband loves me very much; and I love him. But you know what I miss terribly? Passion. That "I've gotta have it now" feeling. That excitement and rush. That exhilaration of not being able to contain yourself and ripping your clothes off just to feel that hot, sweaty body. Basically, the kind of passion that everyone seems to have in the movies and the kind that we had the first few years of marriage. Now it's boiled down to, "Hey baby, you wanna do it?"

I want to feel young and sexy and desirable. Not like I'm just a sex "gas station" who just there to service my husband. Sometimes I wonder if I more than just a who-ha and a pair of boobs to him. If I didn't have those, I would be completely useless. I want him to love me for me, not for my boobs. If I could, I would cut them off and let him have them to carry around and feel up wherever he wants. Sometimes they just annoy me anyway; especially now that they hang down to my knees from the pregnancies and breastfeeding. Yesterday, I wore a new shirt and he said to me, "That's a nice shirt, but it would look better if your boobs were bigger." Thanks. Was that suppose to be a compliment?

It doesn't help that I hate my body either. I feel like it's so flubbery and and so not cute from before my kids and when I actually had time to have more that goldfish crackers and a slice of bread for lunch. The idea of being naked kinda sucks the passion right on out of me. I know that's my issue and not his, but I'm pretty sure that even if he were blind, he would still grope me in the middle of the night and be like, "Oh are you awake...?"

I want to feel the passion again; the thrill of the hunt and that feeling when it's all so new and fun. Is it possible to have that again after all these years? Will I ever find the time to make the change to make my body look the way that I want so that I can feel sexy again? Or am I just in for a lifetime of, "Are we ever going to do it again?"

Get Off My Blog Already!

There are some friends that I have from high school and all of us started blogs (this would be my 'regular' one). At first, I had mine public, but with some weary because I am not a very public person and don't really like sharing my business with everyone. One of these girls from high school 'found' me and started leaving comments on my blog that just annoyed me. Nothing offensive or anything; she's just an annoying, judgemental person. So I decided to make the blog private and only invited those friends that I really like and wanted to share my life with. I told her that I was being "blog stalked" and I quit doing the blog.

Now she won't leave me and this blog thing alone. She leaves comments on the other people's sites saying that I should start up again; that she could help me out. Because she wants to know all about the craziness that is going on in my life. Duh, you idiot! That's the reason I made it private in the first place! Because I don't want you to know and then judge me for it. But she won't stop bugging me about it and now, I just want to egg her house. Maybe she'll get the hint then.

Moving In

I found this building while wasting time surfing instead of taking care of my kids. Sure glad I did! I need a place to vent in anonymity. Thank you to Constance the First for coming up with such a smart way to do it. But I'm gonna have to change the layout if that's okay because I'm not a fan of pink. But I still would love to be part of the big, pink building.