Last night was my first discipline session in a while. My husband has been very patient since my father’s death, allowing me to grieve and take things slowly. But it was time to move forward last night. Not because my behavior has been deplorable, but because life does go on.

He made some very valid points during his lecture, points that were reasonable but not enjoyable to hear. I guess if they were pleasant to my ears, it would be a lecture, right?

I’ve been engrossing myself in work since Dad died. Frankly, it’s been easier to push myself harder in my job and focus on those tasks rather than facing that empty time with my thoughts. However, my addiction to work has distanced me from the family. My husband is right: the longer I stay at work, the less time I spend with him and the girls. It seems obvious, but the guilt is hard-hitting.

I made a promise to Dad before he died that I would lose weight and improve my health. I’m happy to say I’ve lost 10 pounds since since the middle of February by eating less and being more mindful of what I eat. But I haven’t ventured to the basement to exercise on the equipment my husband purchased at my request six months ago. While he emphasizes that he’s proud of my progress thus far, it upsets him that I’m not moving more.

I get it. He is logical and thoughtful in both his points. My reaction of frustration and hostility were uncalled for, and as he said, grounds for punishment even had we not already agreed that I was to receive a spanking.

The riding crop hurts. It stings and slaps, and not being spanked in four weeks makes that crop’s bite even sharper. I’m not sure how many spanks I received, not more than 20, and he rubbed my bottom to encourage blood flow afterwards, which did help after the spanks stopped. He most often chooses the crop because it doesn’t bruise my skin like a paddle and doesn’t leave the deep welts of a switch. Still, when it meets the skin of my bottom–or what’s worse, my upper thighs–the punishment is real. Receiving the crop does not mean the punishment is light or easier despite the fewer marks left on my skin.

I take his lecture and punishment to heart, so I’ve made two goals for the week:

  1. Arrive home from work before 6:30 each night, barring any last-minute meetings I am required to attend.
  2. Exercise for 15 minutes at least 3 times this week.

These aren’t outrageous goals. He might say I’m being lenient, and I’ll need to adjust them based on that response. However, they are reasonable steps for which I can be accountable this week.