A couple weeks ago…

Little dude (nearly six) comes in from school dumps his bag on the floor and sighs.

Impy: Hard day at school huh?
Little Dude: Macey was annoying me today.
Impy: Awww why what happened?
Little Dude: She kept following me everywhere and wouldn’t leave me alone
Impy: Awww does she like you?
Little Dude: *chest all puffed out* Yeah she likes me.

A few days ago …

Little dude comes in from school. Rogue and I are sat yacking with a coffee up in my office bit. Little dude dumps his bag on the floor and proceeds to tell me he’s had a good day and been playing soccer. Impy asks him if he played soccer with his girlfriends.

Little Dude: Yeah
Impy: And just how many girlfriends do you have now?  (Impy always is confuddled with this one and slightly worried her son is becoming a wee 5 year old Cassanova)
Little Dude: Bout a hundred
Impy: Wow really?
Little dude: Yeah I have lots
Impy: So do they all chase you?
Little dude: Yeah and they kiss me
Rogue: Where?
Little dude: In hiding places
At this point Impy’s mummy radar of protective shotgun abilities starts to rise.
Impy: What hiding places?
Little dude: Behind the bushes
Impy is thinking phew I was thinking of bodily hiding places. Thank fuck.
Rogue: So where do they kiss you? On the lips?
Little dude: *points to his pants in the vicinity of his pecker with a grin* There …

Impy is at this point quite horrified.
Rogue is smirking and laughing at me yet quite surprised as well.
Both of us are kinda speechless.

What has that wee girl seen to go and kiss him on his pants?!?!?!
Omg Impy is quite freekin out and does not want to think any further on this subject at this point and sends him off for afternoon tea.

Rogue: I’m jealous. At that age?
Impy: Shut up just shut up.

*blinks*

Hairbrush v’s impy’s ass … hairbrush broke … heh

Impy … WIN

Lying down relaxing, minding my own business then two sadistic mean people decide

“oh look impy need’s teethy love”…

Teeth v’s impy’s  thighs …. fucking owies … evil bastards

One hour later …

Impy … FAIL

Today … Impy is bruised and sore but smiling.

I have some interesting things to review over the next couple of weeks
the Rubber Rita (a nasty rubber flogger which is waaaaay worse than the viper tongue)
Sliquid Organics Lube (most green and hippy style lube)
and black *squeeeee* clover clamps heh
Stay tuned …

I am wary to write anything regarding poly relationships here. Reasons which are personal and guarded but sometimes it needs a little light shed from time to time. So many misconceptions just like with the whole BDSM thing.

There is no one way just like in kink, but being involved in poly relationships is not swinging, it’s not cheating. I hate those two assumptions with a vengance, they irk me considerably. There are real relationships there, they just happen to take on a different form than what most people are used to. I am wary in day to day life as to whom I share that information with not because I am ashamed or hiding my relationships but because of the frustration of tunnel visioned mindsets, the belief that what my life entails or the relationships I chose are somehow not real enough or “right” for others. It saddens me and most days I chose not to disclose my personal life for fear of ignorance and misconstrued assumptions which happen all too often. I hate being put in a position where I have to explain myself and my choices to love the way I want to.

People assume it means you want sex and lots of it from different people because you are some kind of sex freak or nympho.  Some assume it’s because you don’t or can’t commit easily. Some assume you are just “going through a phase” and eventually you’ll find your one and only true love and settle down and do the family thing and the white picket fence dream they hold so dearly.

I don’t have a white picket fence, infact we have a six foot green hedge. I have a family of more than the average nuclear family. I get more daily hugs than most would get in a week … fuck I love that. I have extra shoulders to cry on when I need one. I get to share the highs and lows with not one person but two.

I am polyamorous. It simply means that I value emotional & sexual relationships. I am happy to love more than one person at a time, honestly and ethically in my way. My commitments to the people I love are as real as anything else in my life. I learnt a long time ago to listen to my inner voice, to follow my heart and do the things that make me happy. I don’t take note of what others believe is the “perfect” way of being for me. I don’t believe in having secondary and primary relationships. Perhaps it’s just a label that feels comfortable for some and that’s okay. For me it’s simple, each relationship is it’s own path. It’s not mine. My relationships are separate things with every single person I choose to spend time with and each moment of that time is important, as important as the other person. I value people who know what they want and can be honest about it without hurting people in the process. Each relationship is what it is and it doesn’t need labels. I’m not perfect, no one is. We sometimes fumble about but with good communication and lotsa heart its something that fuels my soul. Being allowed to be me. The good, the bad and the ugly. And most importantly loving those in my life for what they bring to me too.

I have a wonderful wee family I cherish, love to bits. They make me smile and laugh, they warm my heart, they bring me what I need. They don’t judge me, they give me understanding and they accept me for who I am. Even my fucked up OCD quirks, hell they squee at them hehe. My friends … they are uber special. They don’t judge me either, they see how happy I am, they understand poly and if they don’t, they ask real questions. Those that do judge me for loving differently  .. so be it. I can’t change that but I can be open and loving and smile and remind them inside I am smiling and content. I am happy with my life choices … if they feel the need to judge my life .. what does that say about them?

Right now we are three. There are a lot of clichés about three. The triad is a spiritual number found in ancient mythology and most polytheistic religions – some of our modern monotheistic religions, too. There’s a reason for it. A table is more balanced with three legs rather than two. Rip one of those legs away and what happens? Even in a monogamous situtuation (which I have had a few) most people have an extra leg on the side emotionally, a person you trust and love to bits that you can talk to, get some emotional support and love from and hey some have sneaky on the side sex and yup that is referred to as cheating, in a poly situation ( a healthy one) you are honest and you don’t lie and hide things. And the same holds true for a relationship. Where one receives only part of his or her needs from one partner, he or she can find additional fulfillment in the other partner. Where one partner can’t provide something, or perhaps just “doesn’t get it,” the other partner might be able to provide what’s missing. And the triad balances itself out. I don’t now what tomorrow will bring, who knows maybe one day another will come along, I don’t know those answers and right now I don’t care. All that matters is nuturing the comittments we all have right now.

So what exactly is so bad about being poly? I don’t get it? I don’t understand why people judge and assume such bollocks so easily. if you start looking deeper there’s a whole lot of questions that are left unanswered.

Poly isn’t about rampant fucking it’s about loving.

Pretty simple really.

Judging something so free and beautiful as loving someone … I find that sad.

School holidays are over. Thank fuck.

Being away made me realise how much I missed Molten & Velvet. It also made me realise how different my life is to others and how I wouldn’t change it for a moment. All I wanted to do was come home and get my fix of hugs and kitties. We sat here and watched Bruno last night … fucking funny. I needed last night. I needed reconnection.

I went mad for a couple weeks there. Lost the plot and then my brain started going overtime and I went well … psycho. I withdrew, I got snarky, I closed down completely. It’s a horrible feeling losing control in that sense for me. And I’m not good at recognising it straight away, instead I end up a nervous blubbering wreck and I don’t let anyone get near me.

I caved and went and spoke to a naturopath about all the crap I was dealing with and she diagnosed it as a major bout of PMT. I am now on daily vitamins, magnesium for nervous tension and a double dose of magnesium and B6 for the “crazy” week. It was interesting actually apparently evening primrose is great but it takes at least 3 months to kick in so she said I can take those too if I want to but the magnesium and B6 will work straight away.

I’ve been taking the magnesium and I don’t have the urge to kill people so it must be working lol. I’m sleeping better and I feel better. Still a little way to go yet.

Oh and no coffee. I haz a sad. Decaf is just not cool.

But I’m being a good girl and sorting myself out because I need to. I’m not nice when I go crazy.

I’m just about finished this erotica book and fuck it is goooood. Am halfway through writing the review which I will plonk on here and a wee vlog as well. Apart from that I have a bit of work to try and sort as it’s been rather shit for the last couple of months and my wallet is crying.

Oh yeas and Rayne wrote a fecking awesome hawt wee piece for an erotica contest and you should go read it *nods*

I haven’t been commenting anywhere much of late but I went mad so thats why… school holidays and PMT combined make for a crazy impy heh.

I have been reading blogs though but in ninja stealth mode.

What a day. Iz tired.

I took the little one for an “exploring” afternoon today. It started with a train trip … in which everytime we went through a tunnel he freaked out and was rather relieved to see daylight each time we came through the other side. What made me giggle was the exclamation “Mummy we don’t have seatbelts! I can stand up!” In which he did stand and refused to sit down. Me? I sat there rather amused.

Then we arrived into the hustle and bustle of the city. People everywhere and noise. I grew up here, you think I would be used to it but I hate the city. Too much noise, too many people has me in uber stress mode, but we were on an adventure, it was his day. We had lunch then jumped on a bus. I got away with him being “under five” all day today which means I saved money hehe. He’s little and easily mistaken for an under five year old,the joys of having a vertically challenged mummy…. he inherited my height.

I had no freekin idea where to get off the bus to get to our destination, the museum, so a guess and a wee tramp and lo and behold, I’d figured it out well enough to have gotten off at the right stop. I hadn’t been here for quite a few years so I had memories off my own. It still looked the same as it did when I was little. A foreboding building steeped in history. Only difference was when I was little it seemed huge and endless. Much to my surprise it now seems small inside and I wasn’t that impressed.

The little one had fun though, taking great delight in leading me into the children’s discovery section and throwing a freekin fake spider at me. I screamed. Everyone looked at me as if I had grown a third head. The little one … rolling round the floor in hysterics. Me … mumbling and dragging him outta there after passing a glass case full of live cockroaches (stifling yet another scream) … I’d had my fill of freeking horrid bugs for the day. Remind me now why I thought a museum trip would be fun?

I got my revenge dragging him through the volcanic section, actually we had to get through it to get to the next exhibit. He wasn’t having any of it. I ended up picking him up and covering his eyes as we walked through. He loved most of the exhibits but had a lady in fits of giggles when we got to the armery/war section and he proclaimed in his loudest voice looking at all the guns… “Where’s the rocket launcher mummy?” (I swear he watches far too much Ben 10)

We bustled through the various exhibits and a sense of sadness hit me going through the hall of names. All the men who lost their lives in World War II. My poppa’s friends names were on there. I remember as a child Poppa showing me his friends names and the silence that followed. An eerie place to be. The little one completely oblivious to that room and its meaning.

After an exhausting (full of whinging that his feet hurt) wander through this old building full of wonders we decided to go have a bite to eat and mummy desperately in need of a little quiet and fresh air we decided to wander down to the Wintergardens. I loved this place as a kid. I used to pretend I was in another world. Like a secret garden, but now it doesn’t seem as magical either. What is it we lose as we grow older? I need to travel more, all those new places are the ones that hold that magical feeling we have as children when we discover new things, thats what I miss.

Out of the whole day though, watching my son take delight in all the new and amazing things he saw … that was magical.