"WHO Makes The Decisions?"

     Yesterday, Daddy and I were faced with a decision which had to be made quickly, and I asked Daddy to make it.  There was a MAJOR snow storm here ( over 2 feet! ) and we needed to drive my oldest child to my ex-husbands house.  Now, I HATE being in the car in bad weather.  I tend to get very anxious.  Once he had decided that we should go, I became very upset.  I was not happy with the choice he made and I immediately began to question him about whether or not it was the RIGHT decision.  I should not have done this.  (I don't even think I realize WHEN I am trying to tell Daddy what to do.  It is not a conscious thing I am doing.)
    Daddy was not happy with me at all.  In fact, he even put me in the corner before we left the house.  I was pissed off and mad that we were going out in such bad conditions.  I stood there with my arms crossed and my face looking angrily defiant.  This made Daddy even angrier.  (I know it would have been a MUCH longer corner time if we had the time to spare right then!)  But it was getting late and we did not want to be driving home in the dark, so we had to get going.
     I was not fulfilling my role in our relationship.  Daddy is the decision maker...not me.  I am NEVER supposed to tell Daddy what to do.  I may SUGGEST, but never TELL.  I think this is the thing that I find hardest to adhere to in our "new" lifestyle.  I have ALWAYS been an extremely outspoken and headstrong woman.  Needless to say, I often find it very difficult to keep my mouth shut.  I know that I should...but knowing something and following through on something are two VERY different things.   Daddy very angry with me.  Throughout the whole car ride he kept asking me "Who is the decision maker?" and "Who is YOUR Daddy?!"   He also kept repeating that I would be getting punished for my behavior when we got home.  I told Daddy that I was wrong for questioning his decision and that I was very sorry.
     After we arrived home safely, I was NOT punished immediately, as I had expected to be.  Daddy poured us a couple of drinks and adjourned to the living room.   I made dinner, and afterwards, we watched some T.V.  I was very uneasy all evening, not knowing when or how Daddy would decide to punish me.  It was kind of like waiting for the other shoe to drop!
     After we tucked the little one into bed that night, Daddy put me in my special little dress he bought for me.  Daddy likes it when I am TRULY his BabyDoll.  I was kind of hoping I could avoid getting punished, if I behaved very well for the rest of the night.  I tried VERY hard to be good and not disobedient.
    Once Daddy and I were tucked into bed ourselves, I thought MAYBE I was going to get away with it!  I should have known better!  Just as I was beginning to drift off to sleep, Daddy sat straight up and pulled me across his lap.  He asked me if I knew why I was getting a spanking.  I said yes, because I was trying to tell Daddy what to do.  He spanked me for what seemed like forever!  First one cheek, then the other and always ending each set with one extra hard smack dead center.  (This hurts much more, by the way)  I don't even remember how many sets I received.  I just sobbed into my pillow.  I felt, embarrassed, humiliated and ashamed of my behavior.  When Daddy treats me like this, I regress mentally to the point where I am just his little girl; incapable of talking back, or disobeying him.  This, by the way, is the desired effect...I believe.
     It wasn't a paddling, but for some reason I cried like a baby.  I think, that the more subjugated I feel, WHEN Daddy punishes me, the deeper it affects me.  Don't get me wrong...it hurt!  But he has given me much worse spankings (usually with the paddle).  This particular spanking, however, really left me upset, shaken and vulnerable.
     Daddy clearly saw this.  When he was finished spanking me,  he pulled me so close and held me so tightly that I almost couldn't breathe.  He rocked me gently, soothing me with his promises that it was all over and that Daddy was there for me.  He knew that I was emotionally fragile and he treated me with kid gloves.  Kissing me over and over again, drying my tears and telling me that I was a good girl for taking my punishment.  When Daddy acts like this, my love for him just overwhelms me.  Because no matter HOW angry Daddy gets with me for disobeying him, I know that once he has punished me, all is forgiven and the slate is wiped clean.  There are no long, drawn out arguments or fights.  I accept my punishment and we move on.  This is why Domestic Discipline works so well for us.  We do not advocate this lifestyle for everyone, but for US...it saved our marriage!  And...WE HAVE NEVER BEEN HAPPIER!!!