Shame...

So... Master-Reaper read my last two posts.

And...

We did have a verbal blow out. It was not fun. i cried a lot, felt useless, confused... Actually, the best way i can think to put it is: i felt an awful lot like a scolded Australian Shepherd that didn't know what livestock was, much less know how to keep it in line. Master-Reaper had even debated upon doing the whole "dog shaming" scene -- you've seen them? The pictures of the guilty looking pets with a poster board declaring their bad behavior? Just hearing him say he'd thought of it hurt worse than any physical discipline. i hate letting him down; but my thought process can be so defeatist that i wind up looking like the dog who had missed their entire purpose...before i even commit the crime.

In my life, i have picked up some very bad habits. Who needs 45 washed out sports-drink bottles for ice water bottles? There's food storage containers in the cupboard, so why save containers from store-bought foods that have long since been eaten? i exaggerate some, but i sometimes (frequently) save things that have no honest purpose, or save too many of them. This drives Master-Reaper nuts. And when we don't get enough time for the sadist's satisfaction, the piles of...crap...that have somehow wormed their way back into the mix of our life become the starting point for setting it all to rights.

We spent the morning after the blow-out getting rid of the piles and the hoarding, and have a better sense of order again... The trouble of not getting enough time to play with ropes or whips or ... well. That remains. We'll do what we can when we can, of course. But we are adjusting. And hey, the oldest kid gets a mini-vacation soon, so maybe we will be able to find more steal-able moments.