My Happy Place for MPJ

I have been publicly shamed by MPJ over at A Room of Mama's Own to hurry up and post my happy place for her Group Writing Project; I missed the deadline and she has kindly given me an extension so here it is!

I have many happy places, such as being in the company of my 3 teen boys, or simply sitting in silence alone in my home after it's just been cleaned from top to bottom. I also love to float on an air mattress in the pool on a hot day. Those are happy peaceful times for me, but there is one place that I love most of all and I realized the other day the significance of why I love it more than all things.

We were sitting on the couch, hunky hubby and me, watching TV when he reached for me to snuggle in to his chest, as he has so many times before. I smiled as my heart skipped a little faster (yes, I still have butterflies for his tenderness) and I settled in, feeling any anxiety, stress or negative feelings clinging to my psyche from a stressful day just fade away as I rested my head on his chest and pull my legs up under me. I have always loved this place and often to really snuggle in, I rub my face back and forth across his muscular chest, massaging my forehead while he strokes my hair. At times when I'm feeling anxious and need to calm down, I will make him stop whatever he might be doing to let me rest my head on his chest if even for a moment. This time I just settled in and closed my eyes. I had just started to doze, when he let out a soft laugh. As I felt/heard his voice reverberate through his chest, I was overtaken by a long forgotten memory.

When I was very little, my mom left my dad. Through a series of events, we ended up far away from home, just the two of us. Being in a new city with no support and due to the fact that I was only 4 years old and therefore too young to be left on my own, my mom often took me with her to social outings. When it got late, I would climb into her lap, settle my head on her chest and just listen to her voice while I rubbed one of her fingernails with my thumb. She always had pretty long painted nails and for some reason rubbing her nail while feeling/hearing her voice through her chest made me feel comfy and safe no matter the surroundings.

So there you have it in all its' simplicity. My happiest place is laying on my man's chest, listening to his breathing/talking, partly because it takes me to the safe warm place of my mama's lap, but also because I'm so in love and connected to this man, and he makes me feel happy and serene.

Not Enough Time!

I wish I had more time. I just need a bit more time. I squander a lot of time sure, but still...

I have been feeling very discombobulated lately. Scattered. It seems like I have too many balls in the air, but when I look, I mean really look at what I do and what I need to do in a day, it seems like there should be more time.

As I get older I find myself less efficient. There was a time when I was always moving, doing...cleaning. I was painfully OCD about my cleaning. I'm much better now. In fact, there are a few dishes in the sink this very minute and is that, wait, yes it is, a dust ball in the corner. I feel very good about my ability to allow my house to become just this side of messy whilst I widdle away my time lounging on the couch, iBook in my lap and/or phone to my ear. And even with this squandered time, I find it difficult to post here at my humble blog. It might have something to do with Cunt Face Social Club and my super secret society blog site. I get to do my ranting and bitching there, but I really should take more time to pay attention to my lonely, largely unread blog.

Would you visit me if I did?