Adult diaper bags

Traveling with a one-year-old baby, you have to bring a lot of stuff. Car seat/stroller, pack-n-play crib, toy bag for plane entertainment, plus whatever adult bags you need. Anyway after not a lot of sleep due to baby sleeping in a weird environment on vacation, and in a rush to get home, pretty sure I left a diaper bag on SMF airport economy shuttle. Last place we remember seeing it. Thing is I checked with lost and found at SMF and nothing was turned in. Besides a pair of sunglasses and a broken watch, not much value inside. A bunch of diapers and dirty baby clothes. Would people really steal it from the shuttle?

Well, hello! I'm just a silly little queer on a journey to self-discovery, learning how to live my best life, and looking for some company along the way. Here is what I'm looking like these days. I have officially hit that point in my life where time seems to be just completely slipping through my fingers, and so I am very focused on truly living each day to the fullest extent of my abilities, for the first time in a very long while (maybe ever). I'd love to meet some more folks who are in a similar place in their daily lives. For me, this means an emphasis on healing, hobbies, and healthy connections and approaching the choices, chances, and changes I make each day from a place of curiosity and wonder.
Healing is a priority of the highest order for me. I believe that as adults we all have wounds that, through healing, we can learn and grow from, in order to be the best versions of ourselves. We are all works in progress, and no matter how young or old, none of us are ever really "done" growing. I am learning how to hold space for my younger self, without judgement or shame coloring my perception of my past actions and choices. I'd love to hear about how you are practicing growth, what therapy modalities have worked best for you (IFS changed my life!), and/or your short and long term goals for this area of your life.
Hobbies have made a world of difference in how I balance my days. At the peak of my depression/mental illness, my entire life revolved around work and my children - I had no identity outside of ~Customer Service Cutie~ and ~Mom~. Last year I took the leap to join a local gay women's chorus and I am not kidding you, it was the best decision I made for myself in my adult life. This has opened up doors to other hobbies I didn't know I was interested in, like painting and kickball. Tell me about your hobbies, and what activities make you smile, and breathe life into your days!
Healthy connections are where you come in! Hooray - if you made it this far, you are a TROOPER and I appreciate you taking the time. I'm really not looking for anything in particular, but you should know that I am super duper non-monogamous, and have been for 12 years now - I'd love to tell you all about it! I would love to go out on cute dates (I have always been the planner, so it would be a really cool change if someone wanted to take me out) or connect over zoom or whatever digital platform works best for you. It's been an embarrassingly long time since I've sent or received a good morning text, or felt the flutters in my stomach when I see someone's name pop up throughout the day. I guess I'm just looking for chemistry, in whatever form that takes.
Please feel free to shoot me a message or chat on here. If you need an opener idea, I'd love to know - if you had 1 hour to get on a plane to anywhere in the world (hurry up, pack your bag and GO!) where are you going and why?
Cheers xo
Em

Well, hello! I'm just a silly little queer on a journey to self-discovery, learning how to live my best life, and looking for some company along the way. Here is what I'm looking like these days. I have officially hit that point in my life where time seems to be just completely slipping through my fingers, and so I am very focused on truly living each day to the fullest extent of my abilities, for the first time in a very long while (maybe ever). I'd love to meet some more folks who are in a similar place in their daily lives. For me, this means an emphasis on healing, hobbies, and healthy connections and approaching the choices, chances, and changes I make each day from a place of curiosity and wonder.
Healing is a priority of the highest order for me. I believe that as adults we all have wounds that, through healing, we can learn and grow from, in order to be the best versions of ourselves. We are all works in progress, and no matter how young or old, none of us are ever really "done" growing. I am learning how to hold space for my younger self, without judgement or shame coloring my perception of my past actions and choices. I'd love to hear about how you are practicing growth, what therapy modalities have worked best for you (IFS changed my life!), and/or your short and long term goals for this area of your life.
Hobbies have made a world of difference in how I balance my days. At the peak of my depression/mental illness, my entire life revolved around work and my children - I had no identity outside of ~Customer Service Cutie~ and ~Mom~. Last year I took the leap to join a local gay women's chorus and I am not kidding you, it was the best decision I made for myself in my adult life. This has opened up doors to other hobbies I didn't know I was interested in, like painting and kickball. Tell me about your hobbies, and what activities make you smile, and breathe life into your days!
Healthy connections are where you come in! Hooray - if you made it this far, you are a TROOPER and I appreciate you taking the time. I'm really not looking for anything in particular. I would love to go out on cute dates (I have always been the planner, so it would be a really cool change if someone wanted to take me out) or connect over zoom or whatever digital platform works best for you. It's been an embarrassingly long time since I've sent or received a good morning text, or felt the flutters in my stomach when I see someone's name pop up throughout the day. I guess I'm just looking for chemistry, in whatever form that takes.
Please feel free to shoot me a message or chat on here. If you need an opener idea, I'd love to know - if you had 1 hour to get on a plane to anywhere in the world (hurry up, pack your bag and GO!) where are you going and why?
Cheers xo
Em

Here are some stark stats for anyone who cares to recognize how bad things truly are. The Canadian government is running deficits to support their programs. They’re stealing tax money meant for the future and infrastructure for vanity projects like housing record numbers of asylum seekers and illegals. We have glaciers on our northern border so no one can reach us from the north, and 3 oceans on our coasts. We also have the worlds wealthiest economy as our only neighbour to the south, so it’s not Americans running across the border, and thankfully for us they have they have the most scrutinizing border patrol. I bring all of that up to say we shouldn’t have one illegal in our country. Today we somehow have record breaking amounts.
What is going on with border patrol? The entire CBSA needs to be overhauled. If we hired the Indian students protesting I think they’d do a better job, these agents let in thousands of people with fake paperwork. They’re sleeping at the wheel. Now what has been the result of things.
According to the national post we have more than 150,000 pending asylum claims. Many of which are being housed in hotels with our money. Free food, toiletries, diapers etc etc. Meanwhile actual Canadians are told to penny pinch. Ok that’s fine I can be empathetic to 150k people fleeing persecution. Well word must have got out because in the first 3 months of 2023, I imagine the number has increased they were averaging one asylum claim from an illegal every hour. How much have we spent on these vanity projects while actual Canadians are struggling and using food banks more than ever before? We’re spending $557M annually. Over half a billion dollars to house the worlds population. It’s disgusting.
Source: https://nationalpost.com/news/canada/some-illegal-border-crossers-receive-224-in-food-accommodation-per-day
https://www.cbc.ca/amp/1.7006464 (Highest amount of food bank use in Canada since they began collecting data in 1989)
https://globalnews.ca/news/9901922/canadians-family-doctor-shortage-cma-survey/amp/ (More than 5M Canadians have no family doctor)
Meanwhile actual Canadians the people the politicians are supposed to represent don’t have family doctors, are using food banks at record use, cannot afford homes in the cities they work in, are living with their parents into their adult years making 80-100k a year. Don’t get me started on the Indian students who are INDIANS saying give us PR and citizenship. There are only two winners in all of this entitled illegal foreigners (get free handouts) and the oligarchs of Canada (cheap labour). There’s no benefit to any of the rest of us. Todays protesting Indians telling us they will go on hunger strikes if they don’t get PR will be tomorrows protestors threatening hunger strikes if they can’t get UBI as AI takes over low skilled positions.
The quicker we deport them the better. Back to Panjab province, Mexico and anywhere else illegals are coming from. If you can’t benefit our society with the things we need (doctors, nurses, construction workers) you have to leave. We need to take care of home first. That means Canadians first everyone second. I’m all for exceptional skilled immigration (Doctors, nurses) who can get licensed here. Uber drivers, fast food workers they all need to go.

The garage door shut with a groan behind us, closing us in the gloom of the single bulb hanging over the car.
Mother took a drag off her cigarette and sighed as she exhaled, the smoke filled the cabin of the Ford and stung my eyes.
“You really disappointed me today, Julianne," she tapped her cigarette in the ashtray below the dash, "you embarrassed me in front of the other mothers at the Ice Cream Social, shoveling down seconds and thirds like a pig. I thought I raised you better than that.”
She took another drag, daintily holding the cigarette between her perfectly manicured fingers.
“I'm going to have to tell your brother about this," she continued, “he'll have to come up with a punishment fit for a pig."
I felt my stomach drop. My kid brother, Thomas, was only six, but could be exceptionally cruel. Mother seemed to encourage him and was deferring to him more and more frequently for how the house was run, especially concerning my upbringing.
"Mother, please, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to embarrass you. I'm sorry I was a pig and ate so much ice cream. I promise I won't do it again, I'll never eat any ice cream again," I was pleading with stone, unyielding.
“Hush your mouth. Go to your room and wait for Thomas," she put out the cigarette and got out of the car, I had no choice but to follow.
It felt like walking to the gallows as I stepped inside the house and headed towards the stairs to go to my room. Thomas had grown fond recently of physical punishment, he obviously delighted in Mother whipping me with a belt or, recently, Mother had allowed him to start beating me with a wooden spoon. He would squeal and giggle like a normal child watching bubbles in the wind while I screamed. I was dreading whatever was going to happen tonight, I chastised myself for eating that ice cream, I should have known she would show up. My sins were always laid bare.
Down the hall, I could hear Thomas watching television in the den. I only got to watch TV for half an hour on Saturday morning and new episodes of Happy Days with Mother and Thomas. Thomas got to watch all the TV he wanted. He could listen to the radio and turntable as much as he wanted, as loud as he wanted. Thomas had an entire room just for his toys.
I entered my bedroom, it was a space I occupied, but it didn't feel like mine. Mother kept it spartan, white walls and white bedspread. A crucifix over the bed and a painting of Jesus over the door. I had my desk and chair and a dresser with some of the porcelain dolls Daddy gave me before he died that Mother let me keep. That was it.
I placed my book bag down and sat on my bed, waiting for Thomas. It was a while, sitting there with nothing but my own thoughts and staring at the open door. I felt humiliated, I was almost thirteen and my entire life was dictated by my brother. Mother kept the house in constant lockdown to keep Thomas a secret. No outsiders were allowed in. I couldn't have friends because she was afraid I would mention him or sneak a friend in to gawk at my brother and tease him for being different.
I would never make fun of him, I was terrified of him. Terrified of what he was and what he was becoming.
Eventually I heard his heavy footsteps coming up the stairs and I felt my heart start beating faster and my palms began to sweat. I kneaded my skirt in my hands, trying to calm myself and dry my palms. His slow arrhythmic footsteps came down the hall and I watched him as he entered the room.
I couldn't help but internally recoil at his appearance, even though I'd known him since he was born, I could never adjust to how unnatural he appeared. Thomas had been born at home and had never seen a doctor, but he was obviously unwell.
He was six years old and was barely over two feet tall, but very squat and wide. His skin was thick and gray, the whites of his beady eyes were yellow and his hair was wispy and white like an old man's, spreading out like a halo around his gargoyle face. A slight odor of decomposition hung about him, it reminded me faintly of garbage cans on a hot summer day. I hated when Mother made me help him with a bath, his skin felt like old brittle leather that flaked onto my clothes in gray flecks. His body was dense like concrete, I could barely lift him into the tub. Picking him up forced his hair into my face where that smell of rot would fill my nose, causing me to gag, silently, so as not to offend him and draw any ire from him or Mother.
Today, Thomas was wearing bib overalls with a red and green striped sweater underneath, reminding me of a grotesque doll.
“Mama says you acted like a piggy today at the ice cream social,” he spoke up to me in his unsettlingly high pitched, yet raspy voice, like a child that smoked as much as Mother, "you need to come down for dinner right now for your punishment for embarrassing Mama."
He turned and walked back down the stairs and I had no choice but to follow his toddling form downstairs to the dining table. We entered the kitchen and the table was placed with two settings. Mother was already seated and Thomas clambered up into his booster seat at his normal spot next to Mother. She took a drag off her cigarette and motioned vaguely to the floor without even looking at me.
Neatly situated on the linoleum was my dinner, not on a plate, but directly on the floor. A pork chop, scoop of mashed potatoes, and a small pile of peas. No utensils, either.
Thomas giggled with glee upon seeing my face.
“You have Mama's permission now to eat like a piggy, now. No hands! Piggies just use their face!” He stood up in his chair and reached out for Mother’s ash tray and flung it out over my meal, peppering my dinner with cigarette ash and butts.
"Oops! Piggies don't mind trash though, do they, Mama?” he giggled and the sound filled me with rage.
"No, they don't,” Mother replied coolly while maneuvering her ashtray back in place and carefully putting out her cigarette before saying prayer.
As angry as I was, I got down on my hands and knees and did my best at eating what I could without using my hands. I knew if I refused, it would be far worse. The whole meal, Thomas made pig noises and would reach down and poke me with his fork, making comments about what a fat piggy I was and how he wished he could roast and eat me. I doubted Mother would even object if he actually did kill me and eat me.
Gagging my way through another bite of ashy pork chop, I felt a warm splat over my head and heard Thomas giggling. I reached up and felt he had dumped mashed potatoes into my hair.
Choking down tears, I asked Mother if I could clean the floor and bathe. She rolled her eyes and excused me to clear the table for them as well while she changed Thomas into his pajamas. Picking him up, she walked out of the room and Thomas stuck his putrid little purple tongue out at me before they made it out the kitchen door.
I silently cried while I cleared the table and washed the dinner dishes. Tears splashed down as I mopped up the mess from my food on the floor. I hated how awful Thomas was. I hated how they treated me. Ever since Daddy died and Thomas showed up, I was their punching bag. I missed Daddy so much.
Mother was kinder then, too. She was still severe, but Dad kept her tempered. After he died, there was a change that came over her. I was only six, so I didn't remember her too much from before, but I did remember her gushing on and on when she was pregnant with Thomas. How the baby was a gift from Our Heavenly Father, that it was going to complete our broken family.
My sixth birthday happened right after Daddy died and I remember sitting on the patio crying while the house was full of people after the funeral, normally he would have gotten me a new doll and a chocolate bar, instead I was forgotten. No doll. No chocolate. Just funeral potatoes and a house full of cigarette smoke from the adults.
Nobody remembered. The closest thing I got was my dad's sister, Aunt Judy, sitting next to me on the patio step for a few minutes of comfortable silence before giving my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. I don't think she knew her brother was memorialized on my birthday. Next year, Thomas was born the day before my birthday, so it was completely eclipsed as Mother had just birthed her new love into the world…
I stopped mid mop as a lightbulb finally went off. I had never put much thought into the dates before.
Thomas was born a full year after Daddy died. He couldn't be his dad. Who was Thomas’ actual father?
Washing mashed potatoes out of my hair that evening, I ran over and over the timeline. No matter how I parsed it out, Thomas was only my half brother. Going to bed that night, I kept myself awake, going over and over again to make sure. I couldn't remember any men being around at that time, but that didn't mean much. Adults can easily hide things from children. Tension began throbbing through my head and I felt queasy. Mother had always known all of my secrets, able to sniff them out like a bloodhound out or using Thomas to spy. Now I had one of Mother's secrets and I didn't know what to do with it.
First I wanted to confirm it, but it would mean snooping, which was difficult in a house that was rarely left empty. I would have to try finding Mother's calendar book or journal to see if she mentioned any dates or men.
But when could I attempt such a daring maneuver? Thomas hardly left the house. As proud as Mother was of him, she was very cognizant and protective of his differences and didn't want to draw attention to herself or Thomas like that. Mother herself had few social engagements throughout the week and mostly stayed home to watch her golden child.
I finally decided I would take the risk and fake sick on Tuesday, grocery day, so I could stay home from school while she went shopping. All Thomas did all day was watch TV downstairs, so that should give me about an hour to look through her room for clues. I decided to tuck my head down, try to behave as best as I could to avoid their wrath, and wait for Tuesday.
That weekend limped along agonizingly slow. Thomas was in a fine mood and was constantly seeking out a reason to poke me, punch me, slap me… he'd laugh while calling me a piggy with his off-putting wide mouth. I tried to mostly stay in my room and it seemed like neither of them cared.
School on Monday was a relief, but my anxiety ramped up. The consequences would be dire if Mother caught on that I was faking sick to stay home. I didn't even want to imagine how off the leash she'd let my half-brother become in his punishment for that level of insubordination.
I stayed up all night, my stomach was in knots, but I was committed to my plan. Throughout the night, I screamed as hard as I could into my pillow. Screamed until my throat was raw and I could barely talk. It felt cathartic in a way. When it was close to school time, I put on my heaviest flannel pajamas and began doing jumping jacks until my face was flushed and my scalp was soaked with sweat.
Looking in the bathroom mirror before heading down to talk to Mother, I thought I looked pretty convincing, my skin was flushed and sweaty, my eyes had circles under them from lack of sleep, and my voice croaked like a frog.
Heading downstairs, Mother was already feeding Thomas breakfast. I hesitantly stepped into the kitchen and stood there awkwardly for a second, pawing with my pajamas to keep my nerves steady until she noticed my presence and looked up.
“Why aren't you dressed, Julianne?"
"I don't feel well. My throat hurts and my tummy hurts.” My voice graveled out more than I was expecting, I really had hurt my throat.
She strode over to me and placed a cool hand on my sweaty brow.
"You do feel warm. Take an aspirin from the medicine cabinet and go lay back down. I'll check on you later," with that she turned back and walked over to Thomas, who was frozen in place, glaring at me over a forkful of scrambled eggs. The sharp glint of malice in his beady eyes made me shiver before I shuffled out of the kitchen.
I laid in bed, trying my best to look miserable until I eventually heard the faint sound of the television playing in the den as Thomas settled in for his normal daytime routine and the garage door opened as Mother headed to the grocery store. I bounded out of bed and watched the car back out of our driveway and head up the street.
My heart began to pound as I tiptoed down the hall to Mother's bedroom, a place I rarely even caught a glimpse of, let alone entered. I very slowly opened the door, taking great care to not make any noise to alert Thomas downstairs that I was out of bed.
Creeping into the butter yellow room, I could feel my heartbeat pounding in my skull, this was the naughtiest thing I had ever done by far. I stepped onto the rug to help disguise my footsteps and slowly made my way past the brass bed and towards her desk. My hands shook as I opened the top drawer, I pawed through rapidly and found nothing. I checked the next drawer down and again found nothing of interest, just stationary and envelopes.
Finally, the bottom drawer was what I was looking for, a stack of journals from the past decade. I flipped through, trying to find entries relevant to when Daddy died and who Mother slept with afterwards.
I've never fully recovered from what I read.
July 6, 1968
Edgar died today. Car accident. I cannot believe this is real. My light, my life, my anchor... Dr. Benson gave me a sedative at the hospital and I feel so tired. So very, very tired. Why has my Lord forsaken me so?
July 9, 1968
I feel like I am in a very bad dream, I feel numb and disconnected. All the consolation and pity from everyone makes me feel sick. After the memorial, it took everything in me to not break dishes and to scream at everyone to get out of my house. Julianne was moping about crying and I wanted to throw her out, too.
If I hadn't seen my dear Edgar's body in the hospital and held his urn in my own hands, I wouldn't believe he was really gone. I still don't entirely believe it.
I have prayed to God every night asking him to show me why he took my husband from me and I have gotten no answer.
I skimmed over the next few months, as it was more or less similar sentiments repeated night after night. I finally got to an entry that caught my eye.
September 17, 1968
My battle with my faith has been fraught the past few months, but Hallelujah! I feel I can see the Lord again in all his glory and might, for he has given me a way to reconnect to my Edgar!
I was thinking about the night Julianne was born, right in this very home, it was a difficult birth and she struggled to breathe at first. Ingrid, my midwife, made a comment to me that if the baby had failed to wake up on her own, that Ingrid had ways to make sure she would have made it.
I remember asking if it was a medical methodology and she made it clear to me that in certain circumstances, it was a mystical property she used to bring the air of life into a struggling baby's lungs. She gently alluded to being a practicing member of the dark arts. At the time, I felt quite scandalized to have someone like that in my God fearing home. Now I see her as the answer to my prayers! My angel!
On a whim, I called her and asked if she still practiced such techniques. She hesitantly confirmed that she did. I asked, if she could turn breath into the lungs of a child without, could she turn breath into a child that did not exist? Could she magick into existence another child of my beloved Edgar? She told me she had to do some research and she'd be back in touch.
Ingrid just called back after a few hours and said there was a spell she found, but it was dangerous and might have unpleasant results. I said, yes, of course! I trust my Lord and I believe he sent this woman of blessed magick to me for this purpose.
She says we will have to do it soon, in a few days during the new moon. She has a potion to brew, but it is happening! Praise God!
September 23, 1968
The ceremony was last night, and Ingrid believes it was a success, but we will have to wait. It did not take long, only an hour or two. Ingrid lit my bedroom with many beeswax candles and she had me drink a thick and bitter tea that caused me to become quite relaxed and foggy.
From my inner thigh, she cut me and collected my blood in a chalice, with which she mixed quite a lot of Edgar's ashes and other ingredients which I could not glean from my supine position and groggy wits. Ingrid began to chant, calling upon a higher power, as I pleaded with my Lord to let this work. To give me any piece of my Edgar back. She came to the bed and worked the paste between my legs into my womanly chamber, which was very uncomfortable, but manageable with the numbing effects of the tea.
She continued to sit with me and chant, her hand placed over my womb, until she decided at which time it was complete. She left and I fell into a deep sleep. When I woke up this morning, I felt quite uncomfortable, my body ached and when I used the restroom, a yellow fluid like pus poured out of me, but no sign of any ashes or blood, which gives me hope it was absorbed into my womb.
November 3, 1968
Praise be to our Lord, Ingrid just confirmed for me that I am with child, I had been hoping so, I had not gotten my cycle in October, but I wasn't sure if that was because of the discharge like pus that was still coming. She told me that was common with this spell and a side effect that would stop after the baby came.
I feel like I am floating on air, for the first time since Edgar left, I feel-
I suddenly became very aware of the feeling of eyes on the back of my head. I had become too engrossed in what was written before me and I had lost track of my surroundings. Very slowly, I turned around and my heart began pounding again as I saw Thomas standing in the doorway holding his wooden spoon in one hand. How had I not heard him?
He pointed at me with his empty hand and screamed, just a pure guttural screech from somewhere deep inside his disgusting little body. He charged at me from across the room, his horrible feet thumping solidly along the rug. He began beating my legs ruthlessly with the spoon, causing my legs to buckle. I crashed down to my knees in front of him, and he began lashing at my face, pulling my hair with one hand while wailing away at my head with the spoon.
I had dropped the journal I was holding and was desperately trying to get a hand on the spoon or push him away. All I could hear was him screaming. My arms flailed and I reached around on Mother's desk and grabbed onto the first thing I found and sank it into Thomas’ neck.
The end of Mother's gold letter opener protruded under his jaw. He went silent and he looked at me with utter shock. He dropped the spoon and collapsed on the ground, clutching at his neck as his thick black blood oozed out from his wound, letting out a stupendous odor of rot that filled the room. He didn't really say anything or make any noise. He just twitched for a moment and I saw his eyes glaze over.
In shock, I stood over his little body for a moment and I watched as he seemed to mummify in just a few minutes, like an ash person from Pompeii dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt. Even his blood that looked like shiny oil a second ago became like potting soil on Mother's rug. Reaching out to touch his hand, it crumbled away like sand.
Panic ran through me like a rabbit caught in a snare. Not knowing what to do, I ran. I ran down the hall, changed my clothes, put an extra change of clothes in my backpack and the last doll Daddy had ever given me and I ran. Mother would absolutely never forgive me and I was genuinely afraid she would kill me in retaliation for taking her beloved Thomas away from her. Her precious gift from God. My feet flew over the pavement and took me away from that house.
I called my Aunt Judy from a payphone outside the five & dime, and told her Mother had kicked me out and asked if I could stay with her. She had always had a strained relationship with my mother and it didn't take much convincing that she had kicked out her “only” child. Only Mother, Ingrid, and I ever knew about Thomas.
She gave me a home and took care of me. She never beat me or humiliated me. Even with her love, I was far from okay. For years I would close my eyes and hear Thomas scream, then the sudden silence. I'd see him fumbling at his neck and turning to ash. But I would also remember all the ways he would hurt me and how bad he was becoming. I could never talk to anyone about it, especially not the silent relief I felt I refused to admit to myself. Over time, however, Thomas' screams became a whisper and his silence faded into dust in my mind.
I moved on with my life. I went to college and became a photojournalist, getting to travel the world and watch history unfold. By choice, I never married, but was quite blessed with many beautiful friendships for companionship over the decades. I found balance in my life and a sense of happiness, if not peace. I never could quite stomach mashed potatoes again, though, they always taste ashy to me.
Mother never made any attempts to reach out to me or find me, at least that I'm aware of. Ten years ago, I was contacted by a hospital and they said my mother had been admitted earlier after falling and was about to pass, so she must have kept some tabs on me to know my phone number for her emergency contacts. Apparently she had collapsed in the driveway and a neighbor called an ambulance. I got there and her only words to me were, “take care of him," as she placed a locket in my hand. I opened the locket, Jesus was on one side, Thomas on the other. I didn't say anything to her, just held her frail old hand with nicotine stained nails until she passed in the night. My mother was gone and I felt nothing except a vague sense of relief.
When I got to her house, it was like a time capsule. Other than a newer television, it was just like it was when I'd fled so many years ago. The smell of tobacco smoke hung like incense in the air. It felt oppressive, like a tomb.
I wandered the house in a bit of a daze. The one place I didn't want to go was upstairs. I didn't want to see my old room, or Thomas' room, or Mother's. Putting it off, I went to fix myself some supper, realizing I hadn't eaten in almost a day. I took a pause when I opened the fridge and saw a baby bottle on a shelf. Silently praying she had been babysitting for a neighbor, I fixed myself some toast with sardines and sat eating in the den watching TV. It had been almost forty years and it still felt rebellious not eating at the table and watching TV without permission.
My eyes grew heavy and I finally mustered up the gumption to head upstairs to go to bed. The stairs creaked in a familiar way under my feet and I was taken back to the feeling of dread hearing either Mother or Thomas climbing up. My old room was at the top of the stairs, I saw the door was nailed shut and had rambling quotes about Judas copied from the Bible in my mother's handwriting taped to the door. I sighed gently and turned from the door to head down the hallway, deciding Mother's room was probably the best place to sleep.
I passed by Thomas’ toy room and I heard a murmur from the room. I stopped, curiosity got the best of me and I entered. In Thomas' old toy room was a crib with joyful clown sheets. Dread swelled up inside me as I heard more murmurs and saw the sheets move. Approaching slowly, I peaked under the sheet and gasped.
Tucked inside was what looked like a baby gargoyle, gray and papery looking. Pus leaked out of its milky, bulbous eyes. I pulled back the blanket and saw it had no legs and its arms bent back, like wings on a bird. It was wearing just a cloth diaper, overflowing with tarry looking stool that took my breath away with its pungency, it smelled like Thomas’ blood, but somehow worse. My heart broke for this poor creature, Lord only knows how many years it has been in this crib suffering from its unholy existence.
So this is who Mother had wanted me to take care of…
Not knowing what else to do, I gently scooped him up. Like Thomas, he was shockingly heavy for how small his body was. Placing him on the changing table, I cleaned him and rewrapped his bottom in a clean diaper cloth. It was difficult, he fussed tremendously, crying and flopping around as much as his flipper-like arms would allow. I tried wiping off his oozing eyes and he snapped his mouth, which I saw was full of disturbingly square yellow teeth, trying to bite me. I carried him to the kitchen and rocked him while I heated up his bottle and he became furious with me, almost barking like a dog when my hand would get near his face.
He settled a bit as he fed, but he would still sometimes suddenly spit out the bottle and attempt to bite me. I laid him back in his crib, this abomination in a clown sheet, and I walked down the hall to Mother's room letting out a long sigh.
Combing through my mother's journals in the early hours of the morning, it looked like she tried the ceremony again shortly after Thomas died, but she either lacked Ingrid’s help or didn't have enough of my father's ashes left. Something went terribly wrong. She was vaguer than she had been about Thomas’ conception, but I suspect she had used some of Thomas' remains. The resulting birth she named Isaac.
Mother's journals told a sad tale of her and Isaac's suffering. She never mentioned me, but lamented the loss of Thomas and Dad relentlessly. She was hyper protective of Isaac, as that was all she had left. If her world had been small before, it became microscopic after he entered her life, requiring nearly constant care. According to Mother, he was blind and colicky, sometimes going years at a time without sleeping through the night. She had breast fed him for years, but she had to stop after he grew teeth and began biting her intentionally and feeding on her blood.
I spent a lot of time over the next few days pondering what to do. I had to get her estate in order, she had left me the house, in an obvious attempt to get me to continue caretaking for Isaac, but I didn't want it. I had my own cozy home an hour away from here, filled with happy memories and my possessions acquired traveling the world. Mother's home had a heavy energy I couldn't shake. Her and Thomas were both gone, but the memories of the scoldings and beatings hung in every corner, like cobwebs that would never sweep away.
So, I fed Isaac and kept him clean and tried to keep him company, although he seemed to hate me passionately. I took care of him, all the while thinking about what I was going to do. After a week, I felt resolute in what had to be done.
Gathering up all of Mother's journals in a tote, I made my way to Isaac and picked him up and carried everything to the living room.
The ancient logs in the fireplace meant for display ignited instantly. One by one, I fed the journals into the fire, burning away years of my mother's consuming sorrow. Isaac fussed and moaned next to me the entire time. When the last pages shimmered away into lacy ash, I took a throw pillow off the couch and gently cradled Isaac in my other arm. It didn't take long before he stopped struggling and I felt his little body relax after decades of suffering.
I gently wrapped up a bundle in a clown sheet and placed it in the fire. It burned furiously, like the paper in my mother's journals, and was soon gone. Nothing but ashes and embers.
“Don't worry, Mother,” I said purely for my own sake, "I took care of Isaac for you."
And finally, I felt at peace.

My MIL is a very toxic person who could blow through money like it was oxygen, and she has. She has survived by marrying rich men but this last divorce was brutal for her and she’s 60 so I’m not sure if she is going to be bagging any rich men any more. She hasn’t worked for most of her life.
My own mom has made zero effort to save for retirement and blows through all of the money she makes. She has worked at least for most of her life and can probably work as long as she is able bodied but of course you never know when a stroke could hit etc.
I feel guilty because they have both given us money and support at certain points but honestly they didn’t have to they offered it and the few times we asked for financial support it was a small sum and it was for our baby, their grandbaby.
Myself I was financially devastated by student loans. I finally paid them off but we basically have no money now at 35 years old. At least we are debt free though. We have a baby to look after and are living on one income but do have a lot of equity in our townhouse.
I am genuinely confused and concerned about both of their options should something happen.
I can NOT be a caretaker for them. Does that make me a bad person? Can they force me or can the government force me to care for them physically or financially?
I live in PA and we technically have a filial responsibility law but it’s rarely enforced.
I just want to be able to save for retirement and live a modest life where I can support my husband and daughter and actually enjoy our life. I want to buy a house one day but I’m afraid they will see that as a sign they can move in because we would be the only people in the family to own a house so we would have the most room. My mom keeps dropping hints we could rent out the townhouse basement for gods sake and I keep saying no I would never live with an adult that isn’t my husband. I made the mistake a few years ago of telling her she could live with us because we lived in a house that we rented that had an in law suite and I verbally took the offer back but I worry that she will assume that means I’ll change my mind.
What happens if I just say no? I worry my siblings will judge or hate me for not taking her in. I just want to be able to build a healthy happy life for my small family and especially do NOT want to be a burden to my baby who will be an only child so I want to save for retirement, take care of my body etc.

hello! so i have had some food aversion as a kid, and have heard about ARFID before but what kind of made me dismiss it is that my food aversions are fairly inconsistent now as an adult, and I am not really afraid to try new foods. I guess I am posting here to learn more and figure out if its possible ARFID since I am currently trying to follow a nutrition program and it has been a frustrating experience, despite just trying to consume more fiber and protein.
I do have ADHD and Autism, my problem is entirely that the "rules" around what my brain considers edible can change randomly at any given time. One day I could be perfectly fine consuming chicken and the next chicken is apparently poison and the thought of it makes me want to throw up. I also had a period of time as a kid where I had major issues with food and would eat very little, basically just bread and sparkling water whenever someone asked what I wanted. It also seems like if the food hasn't been tried its not in the brain's "database" so to say, and it cannot really label it as edible or not, which is why I do not seem to have issues with trying new foods.
This all makes meal prepping or planning extremely difficult as predicting these random aversions is basically impossible, for example I had 2 weeks where I was perfectly fine eating veggies and eggs for breakfast and now eggs are poison and the idea of eating them or just smelling them makes me sick. The randomised roulette of food aversion seems to be somewhat limited to proteins from my observations? I also have days like today where eating anything at all feels sickening, the idea of chewing and trying to swallow food at all makes me gag and I really do not want to eat because I want the unpleasant experience of gagging or throwing up. I do also have foods I consistently avoid due to texture mostly, but nowhere near as debilitating as this avoidance roulette.
So as I am extremely frustrated right now and seemingly only able to consume bags of mixed vegetable chips I make this post to try and figure out if it sounds like ARFID at all or should I keep looking for answers.

Hello Everyone. This is 100% a true story.
I thought this would be a good story to share here as it deals with getting petty revenge on someone who was being transphobic and a horrible person. This is a long story but the ending is worth it.
This story takes place back in 2020 and was just reminded of it by one of my best Friends lets call her "Hannah". Hannah and I had a mutual friend, lets call him Zack. I at the time was just starting to come out as trans. This plays a part later.
Zack and I were friends after I meet him throw an EX, the EX was a good man but I am the type of person that does not do well being friends with EXs but was trying because this EX was a good person. This in the end also I keep talking to Zack and at time thought he was a good guy.
Anyway it was late in fall when Zack brought up moving into together due to I was having a hard time with my family and only had a dorm to live in. During this time he also brought up that he had a friend, Hannah, that was also looking for a place to live as her home life was not great either. I said I would have to her first before I said yes to anything. Hannah was on the same page as me and wanted to meet me first too.
So one day Invited them both over to the dorm I was living in, as if anything went wrong the College I was at had great police (had meet many of them during the time I was at college) this made me feel safer meeting new people. Hannah and Zack came over and me and Hannah hit it off well to the point you would have thought we had been friends for years. There were many times her and I would hang out without Zack, which he never liked. Red flag right there. Due to this I started to see the cracks in Zack's shell.
He was very passive of Hannah to almost boyfriend level. Which got worries after I came out as Transgender. Red flag number 2. He would also try to one up me and say things underhanded about me being trans. Now I am a huge werewolf geek and the underhanded things would be like "I will never be an alpha" or shit like that. Now I never called myself an alpha or anything like that. He also said that I would never have a man's mindsight. I never told Hannah any of this because I wanted to stay her friend and do to my trust problems thought she would take his side so that is all my fault.
One night I was talking to Hannah not sharing everything but told her Zack was pissing me off. She had known him longer then I did. She said that it could be do to his religious background and that could be why he was being a ass. That is when she opened up to me about something.
Turned out they where Friends with benefits. Zack was always wanting to make things more then that but Hannah had been hurt bad by an EX, like almost killed. So she did not trust getting back into any relationship. But felt she was safe with him and thought of slowly building up to a relationship. However she also spilled all the tea on him in bed, and I mean all the TEA!
So lets jump forward a few months to Hannah's Birthday. Zack wanted to host it the first night and then she would spend the next night with me. Hannah was going a hard time with family during this time so we planned a Birthday weekend for her. Turns out Zack invited her over for night before so she would be over one night without me so they could be the Birthday *GIGGITYY*. Well as many people know there is something that happens to most women once a month. Yes, Hannah was on her period. To her defense she did not know what Zack was planning for the night she thought he was just being nice because she got into a fight with her family.
So the next day comes around and they pick me up as I did not have a car. Everything seemed off as Hannah's mood was not normal. I wanted to ask what was up but also thought it was because of the fight with her family so I just wanted to make her happy. The day goes on and we are playing her fav video game. She went to bed early which I thought was odd as the two of us are night owls. I asked Zack what was going on. He said nothing but I could tell he was lying but dropped it.
The next day we get to mail in our city as planned and well Zack was doing something and it was just Hannah and I alone. That is when she told me what was going on between them. Apparently Zack was mad because Hannah did not SLEEP with her the night before I showed up. I was pissed, but then she keep going and he keep pushing and begging for it. to the point that when she said she was on her period he just said "THEY COULD PUT A TOWEL DOWN".
That was it for me I was done playing nice to Zack and started to think of ways to tell him how much of a pig he was. I am the type of person where three stracks your out. Hannah and I are huge nerds and you could say she is some where between punk and goth. So we told Zack we where going to Spencer's. Zack said he was going to go to another store as he hated this store. You see in the frount of Spencer's is a nerd, punk and goth best dream, as for the back of the store is full of sex toys and other adult themed things. Knowing this I told Hannah to pick out something she wanted for her birthday anything, and I would get it for her.
Well Hannah was looking at new pricings and wallets I headed to the back of the store to get some goodies for Zack. I payed for the stuff all without Hannah knowing. Best part the store has black bags that you can't see throw due to the things they sell. After I walked up to Hannah and I bought the things she wanted all to her protest. So she told me she would by lunch witch I agreed too because as friends we hate to feel like we are using each other even on holidays.
We left the store and went to the food court and ordered food. Once we sat down Hannah texted Zack where we were. That is when she looked at the large bag I had gotten and she asked me what I had gotten. I handed the bag and told her it was for Zack. The grin on her face was the best thing that I have seen. You see Hannah is also a very petty person and she very much approved of what I had gotten for Zack.
Zack showed up some time later and we planned to go back to his house so she could her car and her stuff to come to my place for the night. That is when the "gift" was given to Zack. I was putting Hannah's stuff in her car for her and wish I could have seen his face when he first opened bag.
You see when I am hurt I get petty but if you upset someone close to me I get PETTY. In the bag he found a large bag of candy and a few lollypop DICKS. But it gets better, I also got him a female blow up doll. There was also two cards. the first said "Congrats on your new girlfriend" which I signed alone and the other said "suck a mountain of dicks" which we both signed.
The next thing I know Hannah is walking out with the biggest grin on her face. With him storming after her when he saw me he said I was just mad that I would never be a "true man". Hannah turned on her heels but before she could do anything I yelled back "he would never be bigger then my pinky finger". He looked so mad and red. Hannah got in her car, we drove off and never looked back.
This may have been to far but I regret nothing.
Hannah says it was the best birthday gift anyone has ever gotten her due to his face he made when he saw all his new goodies. Hannah and I are still great friends to this day and know we have each others backs on anything.

I was born in 1989 and my parents got divorced when I was about 2 years-old. I clearly have no memory of this as I was too young. I spent the next 2 years (approximately) bounced from home to home. Living with aunts and random people who’d take me in. When I was 4 years-old my mother remarried some guy and moved us from NY to Miami. For the first 2 years or so I would hear from my father pretty consistently. He’d send me gifts and call me regularly to check up on me. Then all of a sudden all communication stopped. When I asked my mother for an explanation, she said she didn’t want to hurt my new step dad’s feelings. As you can imagine, that created a lot of tension between my step-dad and I. Then I was forced to call my step-dad “dad” and I wasn’t allowed to mention my father again. Around that time is when the physical abuse began at the hands of my step-father. Keep in mind that I was about 5 or 6 years-old and he was an adult and a 3rd degree black belt. He’d beat me so bad that I wasn’t allowed to go to school the next day. I wasn’t allowed to have friends over or have much of a social life. I was then sent to live with my mother’s aunt in another country without any kind of explanation. After spending some time there I was allowed to come back. But it wasn’t long before the abuse resumed at the hands of my step-father and the emotional abuse and manipulation at the hands of my mother. On top of the abuse and everything else, they spread continued rumors about me stating that I was difficult and the cause of the problems. This continued for years till I was about 11 when my mother and I took a summer trip to the islands (where I’m from) and left me there. I woke up one morning and she was gone. No warning or explanation. I was left there for an entire year before I was able to come back home. Where once again the abuse began for another two years. When I turned 13, I hit puberty and grew about 6-inches and put on another 50lbs in weight. Keep in mind that my step father is 5’7 and now I tower over him at 6 feet tall. At this time I recognized that no one was coming to save me, as many family members knew I was being abused and kept it quiet. So I began defending myself and fighting back as much as I could. When I was younger my step father took to his martial arts classes at the request of my mother and when he saw how fast I was progressing, he pulled me out. He was all about maintaining dominance and control. Because I was older now, I made it clear that he doesn’t dictate my life and I began doing what I wanted despite what he wanted. I figured if I was going to do the time, I might as well commit the crime. This continued till I was 18 years old. By this point I could hold my own we were pretty evenly matched and I no longer feared or respected him as a man. After all, a man who beats on a defenseless child is not a real man in my opinion. Once I turned 18, I went to my mother and demanded she give me my father’s phone number. I planned on reaching out to him and hopefully at some point moving in with him back in NY. The next day after my phone call with my father I came home from work to find the house full of people. When I walked in, I quickly ushered into a room with my mother and my closest aunt. I thought someone died. I was then told that the man I spoke to wasn’t my biological father and that she wasn’t my biological mother. She told me my biological mother sold me to her and that my father died a few years ago. She knew he was sick but chose not say anything and let him die. After dropping this bomb on me, my step told me to pack my things and that I was no longer welcome in his house. I was only allowed to take a garbage bag of clothes and nothing else. The last thing my mother said to me as I was leaving was “you’re a stupid failure and you’re not welcome in my home”. So I left and dedicated the rest of my life to proving them wrong. My whole entire family has now turned their backs on me cause I refuse to have any communication with my “mother”. Years later she was in a car accident and was seriously injured and also tried to un-alive herself. A family member reached out for me to go see her and I politely declined. I told my “mother” that until she comes clean about all of the lies she told over the years about me, we couldn’t have a relationship. Not to mention I could never forgive her for robbing me of a relationship with my father before his death. AITA? Keep in mind, there was a lot of abuse and things I left out of here.

So I recently lost my “bestfriend” of almost 30 years for petty reasons and still confused about the situation, she’s a narcissist. I posted about it on here. I called my guy friend to vent out about it. Before calling him I texted him to see if it was okay with me calling him and venting out due to the fact that he has his own issues and I didn’t want to add more to his plate… he texted back and said it was fine to call him. When he answered I told him my bestfriend had cut ties with me and that I was hurt. I was holding in tears and just needed a friend to vent out to. He started yelling at me saying that I called him to “gossip” about the situation (no he’s not friends with my ex bestfriend) he said he had a lot on his plate to be listening to my problems and that I create issues and continues flipping out.. I kindly said “you know what I’m sorry to have called you with my issues… it’s not a good day I’ll talk to you next time” He flipped again and said “Why are you shutting me out “ “you have a problem with people telling you the truth” I said “I gotta go bye” hung up.. he texts me saying how rude I am etc… from there i reply with “it’s one thing to tell the truth and another to be yelled at. He proceeds in telling me that if he yelled it would be noticeable and that I need reflect on what I’m doing wrong etc.. that he cares about me and all this stuff. I did not respond because at that point I felt like I wasn’t getting anywhere I left it as that.. not to mention I was getting bad anxiety and recently had to get checked from all the stress.
So 2 weeks pass he sent me a long message how hurt he was I didn’t respond and basically saying his goodbyes he wished me well etc.. I replied in hopes he would be an Adult about it since weeks went by and he always says true friends tell the truth even if it hurts. Well I was wrong.. I replied in the kindest way possible that I didn’t appreciate the way he was yelling at me and that I had just lost my bestfriend .. I told him I felt like my friends were turning their backs on me and gave him examples like saying I was calling to “gossip” and saying I’m rude just because I’m not letting him talk to me like that. It’s not the first time he pops off on me he did it on my bday last year because I got to the location 5 mins late apologized profusely and he kept scolding me and he made me cry. I told him that I’ve never disrespected him like that..
His response was “wow that hurts you feel like I turned my back on you. Well I guess you’re going to feel it now, It’s weird that you let other people treat you like shit but you treat good friends bad, it’s odd.. You need to stop blaming me and people and start reflecting etc” like WTF I called to vent… when did I blame you ???” I told him he was projecting alot onto me. And said this was why I didn’t respond because of how defensive he gets.. he told me to stop and blocked my number. Later that night unblocks me and haven’t spoken to him since. After sometime reflecting on all this I realized that both my “friends” have some mental issues. I’m tired of being their punching bag and doormat.. this makes me sad I don’t know how all this happened in one month. Maybe there’s a reason for this happening. Not only I’m I processing the situation with my now ex bestfriend but also this guy.. what the hell.

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Hello, I apologize I’ve never been in a situation like this and genuinely don’t know what to do. Me and my ex broke up about 6 months ago and we have one daughter who is about to be 2 in June. When we broke up we were living in another city and had to return to the city we were from in Arizona. Ever since we moved back I’ve had the baby the majority of the time. My daughter suffers from eczema and has to have ointment put on her daily to prevent her from scratching really bad, whenever I would receive the baby from her mother her skin would be really red from scratching and have little cuts everywhere. She would also usually have a diaper rash as if my ex wasn’t changing her diaper for the few days she had her.
Anyways yesterday was Mothers and she asked if she could take the baby for the day and bring her back that night I said yes because I genuinely wanted the baby to spend some time with her mother, she picked the baby up around 12pm. Around 7:50pm she texted me asking if I was ready for the baby I said yes just bring her over whenever. Before I explain what happened next I need to give a little context on the babies diaper bag. A couple days prior I had taken the baby to my sisters for dinner and my sister was using a lot of spices so my shirt had a smell on it from the cooking so I took that shirt off in her dining room put it in the diaper bag and put a different shirt on. Well I forgot to take my shirt out of the diaper bag because we were home and not going anywhere for a few days so I wasn’t using the diaper bag because I keep her diapers and other necessities outside of the diaper bag. When I was packing the diaper bag I was in a bit of a rush and didn’t see my shirt was still in there.
After I told her to bring the baby whenever, she called me and started screaming that I was disgusting and that I fucked up and lost all rights to my daughter. I was obviously confused so I asked what she was talking about and she sent me a picture of my shirt and a pair of laced women’s underwear that was supposedly in the diaper bag. That underwear was not placed in there by me and I told her that repeatedly and she kept saying she didn’t trust me and that I’m not seeing my daughter ever again. While she was on the phone yelling at me I sent my sister the picture and asked if they were hers and she said they didn’t belong to her or my mom. In a panic not thinking of other possibilities I told my sister to just say they were hers and I screenshot that and sent it to my ex. She hung up on me and we have had no contact since.
After talking to my sister and brother I realized there’s a possibility the underwear was planted by my ex or her mother, my ex had told me multiple times that her mother would ask her when she would take the baby away from me so she could be theirs. Her mother is an all around horrible person who is constantly trying to manipulate her children and is on record saying she wishes my ex wasn’t born.
Me and my ex had a verbal agreement that we would do 50/50 custody but it was never taken to court and we were never married but I did sign my daughters birth certificate. Can she take my daughter away from me for something I didn’t do? Also what do I need to do? I’m just some 24 year old dude. Sorry about all the poor grammar I’ve been fighting this feeling of constant anxiety. If there is any clarification need just ask.

Edited: The title was supposed to say that: I may be a Petty jerk, but at least I got away from a toxic "friend. Auto correct changed it to Jersey, and I couldn't edit the actual title.
Fair Warning, this is going to be a LONG post, but I will try to dilute it as much as possible.
About 12 years ago I left the world of retail (of which I have MANY stories) to begin a career in childcare. Some people prefer different titles, Nanny, Babysitter, Parents' Helper, Childcare Provider, etc. To be honest each of those titles are suitable in different situations.
The first family that I Nannied for went on for about 4 years, and then on again off again for another year. Through this family, I met "Wendy" and her family. Wendy went out of her way to be friendly with me, and would often ask me to babysit her kids (B5 and G1).
At one point, I had moved on to working with another family for a few months. Sadly, that ended due to the parents getting a divorce, and they moved further away.
Wendy found out that I was unemployed and asked that I Nanny for her kids. She was also pregnant with her 3rd at the time. I agreed at a slightly discounted rate because we were "friends". I realized too late that that was a HUGE mistake on my part.
Wendy's live in boyfriend "Cole" also had 3 kids from a previous relationship. B15, G8, and G6 lived with their mother. Yes, am aware of the closeness in age of Wendy and Cole' B5 and his G6. I chose to keep my mouth shut.
Now prepare yourselves for the Rollercoaster of emotions I dealt with with this family.
Initially, both Wendy and Cole were employed. I would come over 5 days a week for 8 to 10 hour days, depending upon whether Wendy got home on time. Here is where my discounted rate bit me in the butt.... $300 a week was still complained about. Wendy asked that I not leave Cole alone with their kids because he basically ignored them and refused to change diapers. I felt pretty icky about that, but agreed. Now I lived 45 minutes away without traffic. I would often leave my house early in anticipation of possible traffic. If I arrived early, I wasn't allowed in until she our alloted time of 7am. I didn't have a key, and would often be left waiting on the porch an extra 15 minutes past our time. If I knew I was too early, I parked around the corner and ate breakfast. Wendy and Cole both got very irritated if I wasn't their door precisely at 7 am. It was a headache that I chose to avoid.
Over the first month, I realized that G2 was emotionally abused by Wendy. She constantly said to or in front of the child how much she hated dealing with the wild child. How she wished G2 was more well behaved like B5. She even wrote unkind things on Facebook, asking someone to take her on the weekend while I was off.
This took a toll on poor G2, obviously. She would get violent with me first thing in the mornings : Hitting, kicking, biting, pulling my hair, throwing things at me, or what ever popped into her mind. Eventually, once Wendy left for work G2 would calm down and become an absolute delight.
When B5 started school, Wendy took a new job that allowed her to work from home at times. Those were not fun days! I asked if I could bring G2 to my house where I have an outdoor play area, a playroom, plenty of kid movies, crafts, books, music, and local playgrounds. At first the car rides were torture with G2 screaming bloody murder for at least half of the 45 minute drive. When she got used to the new routine, those drives became pleasant. Her violent tendencies disappeared when we were spending the days at my home. The drawback was that I also had to drive her home in time to get B5 off the bus.
During school breaks, I also had B5, and if they were visiting G8 and G6. B15 stayed at Wendy's house and just did his own thing. If you thought G2 was torture in toddler form, these two girls would have made Nanny McPhee grow a few more moles, a hunch back, and closed feet.
B5 would get a little bored, being that he was the only boy that was understandable. I purchased an array of boy friendlier toys to entertain him. I already had a lot of girl friendly toys either purchased or gifted from the first family that I had worked with. Of course I had plenty of gender neutral items too.
Wendy and Cole didn't give 2 sh*ts and a shave if the kids watched TV all day, went out to a playground or museum, or were driven 2 hours away, as long as I got them home on time. I easily spent an entire paycheck on activities, gas, food (which they didn't pack), and toys over 2 weeks watching all 4 kids. By the by, when asked for additional money when I did have all 4, Wendy not so politely informed me that the kids are entertain each other, so my job should be easier with all 4.
My husband and I discussed a few times whether I should look for something else. Inevitably the people pleaser in me actually felt guilty even considering it. Yup, I was apparently a glutton for punishment. Gratefully, my income was just extra, for an nice meal out occasionally, gifts for birthdays and holiday, extra hobbies, and basic groceries.
Just before Wendy gave birth to their new baby, she became unemployed. Logically, one would think this was my easy out. NOPE!! I became more of a Mother's Helper / Nanny. At this point Wendy and Cole were beginning to look for a larger house to rent. I did more walk through than I can count. She even asked me to tour a couple without her, and to bring G2 and B5 so she could get her nails done and take a nap. (Seriously, I toured houses on her list without her!)
As we spent more and more time together, I began to learn FAR FAR more about her bedroom life than I could ever desire. G2 and I spent much less time in the peace of my home, and way too much in Wendy's company. G2's behavior began to deteriorate slowly, causing Wendy to lose her temper with her far too easily. This completely broke my heart. I TRIED to redirect them both, and expressed my concern to Wendy. Of course, she then turned her anger towards me.
Wendy would openly discuss her theories about Cole in front of her kids. She claimed that he was cheating on her with his ex because he would shower immediately after seeing her to pick up or drop off the kids. He often made those drives directly after work though. Maybe he was cheating, maybe not. I honestly don't know.
Wendy also enjoyed gossiping about absolutely anybody. The parents of the first family that worked with were having marital issues. This was a favorite topic of hers. Wendy told me about every unkind word her mother uttered in her direction. The apple obviously didn't fall far from the tree here. I was told lots of personal information about people I didn't know. The gossip made me very uncomfortable. I told her that I would prefer we not discuss the lives of people who weren't around to speak on their own behalf. This fell on deaf ears.
I became quite used to her disapproval of my loose fitting jeans and T-shirts. Working with kids, I found my favorite cartoon prints were just as possible with my tiny charges. I NEVER wear makeup or heels because I simply don't want to. My dresses always have leggings under them because it make me feel less vulnerable. I never wear shorts or above the knee skirts/dresses. That's a ME thing, not religious or cultural. I find my "uniform" of choice is ideal for working with kids. Wendy informed me more than once that it embarrassed her to be seen in public with me. She often insisted that I wear something of hers if we had to go anywhere.
My husband enjoys photography, particularly long exposure which is done at night. He has a lot of photography friends of both genders, but his best friend is a female. He also enjoys concerts and kayaking, often with an ex from high school. (He graduated in 1997). I trust my husband and have no problem with him spending time with his friends. Enter Wendy's whispers of accusations. She often "jokingly" accused him of cheating on me with these female friends. I don't enjoy concerts, crowds, or being out late; so I support his doing with people who do. At least I know he with someone if something happens. I have bad knees, which make getting in and out of a kayak difficult. Why should that stop him? Again, I told her that I trust him and that I don't appreciate her accusations joke or not. This annoyed her because she doesn't trust Cole.
I know these are major red flag issues. I know how toxic being subjected to these comments is. I also know how difficult it would be on their kids if I left too soon. I knew they needed someone who wasn't emotionally cruel. I stayed for them.
My husband and I spent 2 of our weekends helping them pack and move to house that ended up 15 minutes from us. We were thanked by words, but that was the extent of the gratitude. Wendy's mother looked after the kids while we helped them move. This was complained about because I was already paid to watch the kids during the week. Insert eye roll here!! Her mom felt my husband should be willing to help them move while I watched the kids on the weekend for no extra pay. Either way, we were doing them a HUGE favor to begin with.
A family that I had briefly Nannied for prior to working for Wendy asked if I could help out every other Saturday. The dad (Nice Guy) traveled a lot for work leaving the Mom (Angelface) home alone with the kids. She just needed a day to run errands, work out, and just have time to herself. Angelface is one of the kindest women on this planet. When I did Nanny for them (2 days a week), she was in tears when she had to let me go. They couldn't justify the outgoing money at the time. She referred me to several friends. I am legitimately friend with this family, and still babysit sporadically.
Through a random discussion, I told Wendy about working with Angelface on every other Saturday. She began to tell me what to charge, how many hours to work, and what days to leave open for her just in case. Insert headache inducing eyerolls!
One Friday, Wendy's cousin arrived for a weekend visit with her baby. Wendy told me that because it was a holiday weekend I would not be needed until Tuesday. I double checked via text, and she confirmed that she and Cole were taking the kids to the beach with her cousin. Monday morning I got a call from a passed off Wendy asking where I am. I reminded her that she had told me that they would not need me. I even took a screen shot of our text. She said that Cole had decided to work Monday anyway so she was alone with HER kids. This pissed me off, so I lied. I told her that I was out of town with my mom and wouldn't be home until 5 or 6 pm. She went on about how much of an inconvenience it was to her, and I should have checked before going out of town. For the second time, I sent her a screenshot of my text verifying that I wasn't needed Monday. She abruptly ended the call saying to just be sure to be on time Tuesday. I had NEVER been late, but opted to mention that as we hung up.
Over time we worked out a new arrangement where I brought now G3 to my house 2 days a week, and we stayed there 3 days a week. I helped with cleaning, errands, helped with the new baby (NB), etc. Mostly, I was Wendy's sounding board. She continued to accuse Cole of cheating, wasting money, and even beating her.
My husband and I offered to let her and the kids stay with us, but she declined. Wendy even told me that since she was so sure Cole was cheating, she was going to find herself a side boyfriend to cheat with. I tried to talk her out of it, to no avail. Sadly, she spoke openly about her new boyfriend in fron of G3. During one of her rants I learned that my pay came from him selling drugs. GULP!!
While cleaning out the couch one day, I came across a loaded gun kept in the couch console thing, along with baggies of pills, "dried plants", and white powder. This completely freaked me out. 2 small children and a soon to be crawling baby sat and played on and around that couch. I STRONGLY considered calling Child Pretective Services and the police. I quickly realized that if I did, they would know it was me. I regret it, but I feared their possible retaliation towards us.
Shortly after finding these thing Cole quit his job. For several months while I worked for them, they were both unemployed. Again, I thought it was an easy out. NOPE AGAIN! For another 3 months, they insisted that they couldn't take care of the house and kids without my help. Very often, I arrived to find now B6 fending for himself for breakfast and getting ready for school. He was told to wake up and unlock the door for me, but they went back to sleep. I was expected to keep the baby from crying, and to keep G3 quiet and entertained until they came downstairs. I often chose to simply take both to my house so we could play naturally. We had a crib, so this wasn't a problem for NB. G3 would just nap on the couch or my bed. When out of school B6 preferred this too. This really should have told Wendy and Cole something about their kids, but of course not.
FINALLY, I was informed after about a year of working for them, they could no longer justify paying me. At this point, I had often considered quitting anyway. I mainly stayed because my heart broke for the kids. However, based on her gossipy and judgmental nature ... not to mention my little 3 day weekend fail; I was concerned about what kind of reference Wendy would provide if I chose to quit.
So in 2019, I found myself happily unemployed. The timing here worked out beautifully because Angelface knew neighbors due to have their first baby in 2020. I ended up working for this lovely family until August of 2023. The mom (Joy) and the Dad (Mr. Cool) were such a relief to my entire mental and physical health. We became friends as well, and over time I told them about Wendy. Between Joy, Angelface, Mr. Cool, Nice Guy, my husband, and family I began to realize just hoe toxic Wendy really was to my mental health. My husband never liked her but understood my feelings towards the kids.
For almost a year Wendy would randomly call or FaceTime me .... more often than not while drunk. She would rave about how much she and the kids missed me. We would get together for a meal, and she had me over for a couple birthday parties for the kids. I found myself almost always being the only sober adult watching the kids as the adults partied. Wendy often went back to her gossiping, trash talking, and "jokes" about my husband spending time with women. She would offer underhanded compliments. "It's so nice to see you wearing a dress instead of those tacky T-shirts." You get the drift. She even INFORMED me that since her neighbor was pregnant I could quit my job with Joy and Mr. Cool. She had told her neighbor that I would work for her now, and since they were next door, I would watch her own kids too. I shut that down saying that I was quite happy working with Joy and Mr. Cool. I even lied about what they paid thinking it would detur her further. NOPE yet again. She said that I should quit anyway so her life would be easier with me around. Once more, I told her that wasn't going to happen.
AT LONG LAST, I am coming to the end of my tortuous endurment with Wendy.
A week later, she called and asked if I had quit yet. I said that I had no intention of leaving an "$800" a week job. (Not even close to that with my 3 day a week job, but she didn't need to know the truth.) She told me to let her know when I quit, then changed the subject towards gossiping about that first family and their problems. I told her that I don't feel comfortable gossiping about people who can't speak for themselves. That pissed her off, so she turned it on me again. She said of course I don't want to talk about them since my husband was cheating on me with 2 different women. I angrily corrected her. She has no reason to think my husband is cheating, and I trust him and our friends. Just because she thinks her boyfriend cheats, and she cheats, that doesn't mean everybody does. She then said we could talk when I calmed down and after I quit my job.
After hanging up, I proceeded to block Wendy on everything! Facebook, phone calls, texting, face timing, Instagram, and even Snapchat (which I hadn't used in over a year). I also blocked her mom, and any body that had been friendly simply because Wendy knew them and wanted me to have their information too. I gave her no warning at all. I was beyond passed off, and refused to be talked out of my very gratifying decision.
I told my husband, family, and friends that was now free of Wendy. Not a single person tried to tell me to make ammends. The only guilt that I feel is towards those poor kids. For once though, I put myself first. Joy and Angelface were both extremely supportive when I told them that I had Ghosted Wendy. Both even mentioned how proud they were of me for FINALLY truly stand-up for myself. They were NOT fans of Wendy!!!
I never ended up quitting my job with Joy and Mr. Cool inorder to babysit Wendy's neighbor. I also continued to babysit for Angelface and Nice Guy.
About 7 or 8 months ago, I ran into Wendy at a playground between our two homes. She was with now G5 and B2. I had Joy and Mr. Cool's daughter with me. I was polite, almost obscenely so. I was friendly towards the kids, who were stand off-ish. I offered to let Little Miss play with them, but they weren't interested. Little Miss wanted to do her own thing, so off we went to play. We left after only 15 minutes because Little Miss said "that lady" is scaring her.
That night, my husband got a Facebook message from Wendy. She described my cruelty towards her kids by ignoring them. She said that it was so hateful that I blocked her on everything after all she had done for us. This message went on and on. My husband left it unread for months before my morbid curiosity caused me to open the silly thing. We never responded, but instead he finally bl9cked her too.
Ok, if you read that bloody novel of a post, you are a ROCK STAR!! I don't have any regrets towards my eventual choice, except towards the kids. It breaks my heart knowing what kind of parents they are enduring. I often regret not calling CPS, but there isn't a shadow of doubt that would have retaliated .... most likely violently.
I did eventually get back in contact with that very first Nanny family. They had indeed broken up, but both are happier and healthier now. I warned them that Wendy enjoyed gossiping and spreading rumors about them. Neither were surprised, and both had broken contact with Wendy long ago. They supported my choice to break ties with her as well. Shocking, right!?!
I no longer work full time for Joy and Mr. Cool, as they wanted Little Miss to get used to being around more kids before starting school. I do still sporadically babysit for them and Angelface and Nice Guy though. The two couples have referred me to several other families in the neighborhood, so I stay pretty busy with much more sane individuals.
Maybe I was a jerk, and petty. I'm cool with being thought of that way towards Wendy. At least now, I have much kinder people in my life.
EDITED/UPDATE: It has come to my attention that some may feel unfulfilled on the petty revenge side. For this former doormat, removing myself as her very cheap childcare was my revenge. I realize that many may not feel it was enough, but at the time, it was a MAJOR achievement for me. I had worked 8 to 10 hours a day for 5 days a week to receive $300.
When "invited" to parties, I ended up providing free childcare while the other adults got drunk. I don't like the taste of alcohol or the feeling of being buzzed or drunk, so I don't partake. I feared what would happen to the ignored kids, so I found myself watching them.
I never had a lot of friends, so for a long time, I truly thought Wendy was my friend. It took conversations with my husband, my mom, Angelface, Joy, and others for me to see the reality of my situation.
Some may say this post is in fact gossiping about her. To a point, yes I will agree. I did change everybody's names though.
Ultimately, I have always questioned whether or not I was fair or did the right thing by Ghosting and blocking Wendy. I often second guess my choice; especially when thinking about those kids.
I have tried to be more alert about the people around me since this experience. I do still find myself being too nice and accepting of some ways in which I am treated. I have tried to build more boundaries though.

I may be the A-H and a bit Petty, but at least I got away from a toxic "friend".
Fair Warning, this is going to be a LONG post, but I will try to dilute it as much as possible.
About 12 years ago I left the world of retail (of which I have MANY stories) to begin a career in childcare. Some people prefer different titles, Nanny, Babysitter, Parents' Helper, Childcare Provider, etc. To be honest each of those titles are suitable in different situations.
The first family that I Nannied for went on for about 4 years, and then on again off again for another year. Through this family, I met "Wendy" and her family. Wendy went out of her way to be friendly with me, and would often ask me to babysit her kids (B5 and G1).
At one point, I had moved on to working with another family for a few months. Sadly, that ended due to the parents getting a divorce, and they moved further away.
Wendy found out that I was unemployed and asked that I Nanny for her kids. She was also pregnant with her 3rd at the time. I agreed at a slightly discounted rate because we were "friends". I realized too late that that was a HUGE mistake on my part.
Wendy's live in boyfriend "Cole" also had 3 kids from a previous relationship. B15, G8, and G6 lived with their mother. Yes, am aware of the closeness in age of Wendy and Cole' B5 and his G6. I chose to keep my mouth shut.
Now prepare yourselves for the Rollercoaster of emotions I dealt with with this family.
Initially, both Wendy and Cole were employed. I would come over 5 days a week for 8 to 10 hour days, depending upon whether Wendy got home on time. Here is where my discounted rate bit me in the butt.... $300 a week was still complained about. Wendy asked that I not leave Cole alone with their kids because he basically ignored them and refused to change diapers. I felt pretty icky about that, but agreed. Now I lived 45 minutes away without traffic. I would often leave my house early in anticipation of possible traffic. If I arrived early, I wasn't allowed in until she our alloted time of 7am. I didn't have a key, and would often be left waiting on the porch an extra 15 minutes past our time. If I knew I was too early, I parked around the corner and ate breakfast. Wendy and Cole both got very irritated if I wasn't their door precisely at 7 am. It was a headache that I chose to avoid.
Over the first month, I realized that G2 was emotionally abused by Wendy. She constantly said to or in front of the child how much she hated dealing with the wild child. How she wished G2 was more well behaved like B5. She even wrote unkind things on Facebook, asking someone to take her on the weekend while I was off.
This took a toll on poor G2, obviously. She would get violent with me first thing in the mornings : Hitting, kicking, biting, pulling my hair, throwing things at me, or what ever popped into her mind. Eventually, once Wendy left for work G2 would calm down and become an absolute delight.
When B5 started school, Wendy took a new job that allowed her to work from home at times. Those were not fun days! I asked if I could bring G2 to my house where I have an outdoor play area, a playroom, plenty of kid movies, crafts, books, music, and local playgrounds. At first the car rides were torture with G2 screaming bloody murder for at least half of the 45 minute drive. When she got used to the new routine, those drives became pleasant. Her violent tendencies disappeared when we were spending the days at my home. The drawback was that I also had to drive her home in time to get B5 off the bus.
During school breaks, I also had B5, and if they were visiting G8 and G6. B15 stayed at Wendy's house and just did his own thing. If you thought G2 was torture in toddler form, these two girls would have made Nanny McPhee grow a few more moles, a hunch back, and closed feet.
B5 would get a little bored, being that he was the only boy that was understandable. I purchased an array of boy friendlier toys to entertain him. I already had a lot of girl friendly toys either purchased or gifted from the first family that I had worked with. Of course I had plenty of gender neutral items too.
Wendy and Cole didn't give 2 sh*ts and a shave if the kids watched TV all day, went out to a playground or museum, or were driven 2 hours away, as long as I got them home on time. I easily spent an entire paycheck on activities, gas, food (which they didn't pack), and toys over 2 weeks watching all 4 kids. By the by, when asked for additional money when I did have all 4, Wendy not so politely informed me that the kids are entertain each other, so my job should be easier with all 4.
My husband and I discussed a few times whether I should look for something else. Inevitably the people pleaser in me actually felt guilty even considering it. Yup, I was apparently a glutton for punishment. Gratefully, my income was just extra, for an nice meal out occasionally, gifts for birthdays and holiday, extra hobbies, and basic groceries.
Just before Wendy gave birth to their new baby, she became unemployed. Logically, one would think this was my easy out. NOPE!! I became more of a Mother's Helper / Nanny. At this point Wendy and Cole were beginning to look for a larger house to rent. I did more walk through than I can count. She even asked me to tour a couple without her, and to bring G2 and B5 so she could get her nails done and take a nap. (Seriously, I toured houses on her list without her!)
As we spent more and more time together, I began to learn FAR FAR more about her bedroom life than I could ever desire. G2 and I spent much less time in the peace of my home, and way too much in Wendy's company. G2's behavior began to deteriorate slowly, causing Wendy to lose her temper with her far too easily. This completely broke my heart. I TRIED to redirect them both, and expressed my concern to Wendy. Of course, she then turned her anger towards me.
Wendy would openly discuss her theories about Cole in front of her kids. She claimed that he was cheating on her with his ex because he would shower immediately after seeing her to pick up or drop off the kids. He often made those drives directly after work though. Maybe he was cheating, maybe not. I honestly don't know.
Wendy also enjoyed gossiping about absolutely anybody. The parents of the first family that worked with were having marital issues. This was a favorite topic of hers. Wendy told me about every unkind word her mother uttered in her direction. The apple obviously didn't fall far from the tree here. I was told lots of personal information about people I didn't know. The gossip made me very uncomfortable. I told her that I would prefer we not discuss the lives of people who weren't around to speak on their own behalf. This fell on deaf ears.
I became quite used to her disapproval of my loose fitting jeans and T-shirts. Working with kids, I found my favorite cartoon prints were just as possible with my tiny charges. I NEVER wear makeup or heels because I simply don't want to. My dresses always have leggings under them because it make me feel less vulnerable. I never wear shorts or above the knee skirts/dresses. That's a ME thing, not religious or cultural. I find my "uniform" of choice is ideal for working with kids. Wendy informed me more than once that it embarrassed her to be seen in public with me. She often insisted that I wear something of hers if we had to go anywhere.
My husband enjoys photography, particularly long exposure which is done at night. He has a lot of photography friends of both genders, but his best friend is a female. He also enjoys concerts and kayaking, often with an ex from high school. (He graduated in 1997). I trust my husband and have no problem with him spending time with his friends. Enter Wendy's whispers of accusations. She often "jokingly" accused him of cheating on me with these female friends. I don't enjoy concerts, crowds, or being out late; so I support his doing with people who do. At least I know he with someone if something happens. I have bad knees, which make getting in and out of a kayak difficult. Why should that stop him? Again, I told her that I trust him and that I don't appreciate her accusations joke or not. This annoyed her because she doesn't trust Cole.
I know these are major red flag issues. I know how toxic being subjected to these comments is. I also know how difficult it would be on their kids if I left too soon. I knew they needed someone who wasn't emotionally cruel. I stayed for them.
My husband and I spent 2 of our weekends helping them pack and move to house that ended up 15 minutes from us. We were thanked by words, but that was the extent of the gratitude. Wendy's mother looked after the kids while we helped them move. This was complained about because I was already paid to watch the kids during the week. Insert eye roll here!! Her mom felt my husband should be willing to help them move while I watched the kids on the weekend for no extra pay. Either way, we were doing them a HUGE favor to begin with.
A family that I had briefly Nannied for prior to working for Wendy asked if I could help out every other Saturday. The dad (Nice Guy) traveled a lot for work leaving the Mom (Angelface) home alone with the kids. She just needed a day to run errands, work out, and just have time to herself. Angelface is one of the kindest women on this planet. When I did Nanny for them (2 days a week), she was in tears when she had to let me go. They couldn't justify the outgoing money at the time. She referred me to several friends. I am legitimately friend with this family, and still babysit sporadically.
Through a random discussion, I told Wendy about working with Angelface on every other Saturday. She began to tell me what to charge, how many hours to work, and what days to leave open for her just in case. Insert headache inducing eyerolls!
One Friday, Wendy's cousin arrived for a weekend visit with her baby. Wendy told me that because it was a holiday weekend I would not be needed until Tuesday. I double checked via text, and she confirmed that she and Cole were taking the kids to the beach with her cousin. Monday morning I got a call from a passed off Wendy asking where I am. I reminded her that she had told me that they would not need me. I even took a screen shot of our text. She said that Cole had decided to work Monday anyway so she was alone with HER kids. This pissed me off, so I lied. I told her that I was out of town with my mom and wouldn't be home until 5 or 6 pm. She went on about how much of an inconvenience it was to her, and I should have checked before going out of town. For the second time, I sent her a screenshot of my text verifying that I wasn't needed Monday. She abruptly ended the call saying to just be sure to be on time Tuesday. I had NEVER been late, but opted to mention that as we hung up.
Over time we worked out a new arrangement where I brought now G3 to my house 2 days a week, and we stayed there 3 days a week. I helped with cleaning, errands, helped with the new baby (NB), etc. Mostly, I was Wendy's sounding board. She continued to accuse Cole of cheating, wasting money, and even beating her.
My husband and I offered to let her and the kids stay with us, but she declined. Wendy even told me that since she was so sure Cole was cheating, she was going to find herself a side boyfriend to cheat with. I tried to talk her out of it, to no avail. Sadly, she spoke openly about her new boyfriend in fron of G3. During one of her rants I learned that my pay came from him selling drugs. GULP!!
While cleaning out the couch one day, I came across a loaded gun kept in the couch console thing, along with baggies of pills, "dried plants", and white powder. This completely freaked me out. 2 small children and a soon to be crawling baby sat and played on and around that couch. I STRONGLY considered calling Child Pretective Services and the police. I quickly realized that if I did, they would know it was me. I regret it, but I feared their possible retaliation towards us.
Shortly after finding these thing Cole quit his job. For several months while I worked for them, they were both unemployed. Again, I thought it was an easy out. NOPE AGAIN! For another 3 months, they insisted that they couldn't take care of the house and kids without my help. Very often, I arrived to find now B6 fending for himself for breakfast and getting ready for school. He was told to wake up and unlock the door for me, but they went back to sleep. I was expected to keep the baby from crying, and to keep G3 quiet and entertained until they came downstairs. I often chose to simply take both to my house so we could play naturally. We had a crib, so this wasn't a problem for NB. G3 would just nap on the couch or my bed. When out of school B6 preferred this too. This really should have told Wendy and Cole something about their kids, but of course not.
FINALLY, I was informed after about a year of working for them, they could no longer justify paying me. At this point, I had often considered quitting anyway. I mainly stayed because my heart broke for the kids. However, based on her gossipy and judgmental nature ... not to mention my little 3 day weekend fail; I was concerned about what kind of reference Wendy would provide if I chose to quit.
So in 2019, I found myself happily unemployed. The timing here worked out beautifully because Angelface knew neighbors due to have their first baby in 2020. I ended up working for this lovely family until August of 2023. The mom (Joy) and the Dad (Mr. Cool) were such a relief to my entire mental and physical health. We became friends as well, and over time I told them about Wendy. Between Joy, Angelface, Mr. Cool, Nice Guy, my husband, and family I began to realize just hoe toxic Wendy really was to my mental health. My husband never liked her but understood my feelings towards the kids.
For almost a year Wendy would randomly call or FaceTime me .... more often than not while drunk. She would rave about how much she and the kids missed me. We would get together for a meal, and she had me over for a couple birthday parties for the kids. I found myself almost always being the only sober adult watching the kids as the adults partied. Wendy often went back to her gossiping, trash talking, and "jokes" about my husband spending time with women. She would offer underhanded compliments. "It's so nice to see you wearing a dress instead of those tacky T-shirts." You get the drift. She even INFORMED me that since her neighbor was pregnant I could quit my job with Joy and Mr. Cool. She had told her neighbor that I would work for her now, and since they were next door, I would watch her own kids too. I shut that down saying that I was quite happy working with Joy and Mr. Cool. I even lied about what they paid thinking it would detur her further. NOPE yet again. She said that I should quit anyway so her life would be easier with me around. Once more, I told her that wasn't going to happen.
AT LONG LAST, I am coming to the end of my tortuous endurment with Wendy.
A week later, she called and asked if I had quit yet. I said that I had no intention of leaving an "$800" a week job. (Not even close to that with my 3 day a week job, but she didn't need to know the truth.) She told me to let her know when I quit, then changed the subject towards gossiping about that first family and their problems. I told her that I don't feel comfortable gossiping about people who can't speak for themselves. That pissed her off, so she turned it on me again. She said of course I don't want to talk about them since my husband was cheating on me with 2 different women. I angrily corrected her. She has no reason to think my husband is cheating, and I trust him and our friends. Just because she thinks her boyfriend cheats, and she cheats, that doesn't mean everybody does. She then said we could talk when I calmed down and after I quit my job.
After hanging up, I proceeded to block Wendy on everything! Facebook, phone calls, texting, face timing, Instagram, and even Snapchat (which I hadn't used in over a year). I also blocked her mom, and any body that had been friendly simply because Wendy knew them and wanted me to have their information too. I gave her no warning at all. I was beyond passed off, and refused to be talked out of my very gratifying decision.
I told my husband, family, and friends that was now free of Wendy. Not a single person tried to tell me to make ammends. The only guilt that I feel is towards those poor kids. For once though, I put myself first. Joy and Angelface were both extremely supportive when I told them that I had Ghosted Wendy. Both even mentioned how proud they were of me for FINALLY truly stand-up for myself. They were NOT fans of Wendy!!!
I never ended up quitting my job with Joy and Mr. Cool inorder to babysit Wendy's neighbor. I also continued to babysit for Angelface and Nice Guy.
About 7 or 8 months ago, I ran into Wendy at a playground between our two homes. She was with now G5 and B2. I had Joy and Mr. Cool's daughter with me. I was polite, almost obscenely so. I was friendly towards the kids, who were stand off-ish. I offered to let Little Miss play with them, but they weren't interested. Little Miss wanted to do her own thing, so off we went to play. We left after only 15 minutes because Little Miss said "that lady" is scaring her.
That night, my husband got a Facebook message from Wendy. She described my cruelty towards her kids by ignoring them. She said that it was so hateful that I blocked her on everything after all she had done for us. This message went on and on. My husband left it unread for months before my morbid curiosity caused me to open the silly thing. We never responded, but instead he finally bl9cked her too.
Ok, if you read that bloody novel of a post, you are a ROCK STAR!! I don't have any regrets towards my eventual choice, except towards the kids. It breaks my heart knowing what kind of parents they are enduring. I often regret not calling CPS, but there isn't a shadow of doubt that would have retaliated .... most likely violently.
I did eventually get back in contact with that very first Nanny family. They had indeed broken up, but both are happier and healthier now. I warned them that Wendy enjoyed gossiping and spreading rumors about them. Neither were surprised, and both had broken contact with Wendy long ago. They supported my choice to break ties with her as well. Shocking, right!?!
I no longer work full time for Joy and Mr. Cool, as they wanted Little Miss to get used to being around more kids before starting school. I do still sporadically babysit for them and Angelface and Nice Guy though. The two couples have referred me to several other families in the neighborhood, so I stay pretty busy with much more sane individuals.
Maybe I was an A-Hole, and petty. I'm cool with being thought of that way towards Wendy. At least now, I have much kinder people in my life.
EDITED/UPDATE: It has come to my attention that some may feel unfulfilled on the petty revenge side. For this former doormat, removing myself as her very cheap childcare was my revenge. I realize that many may not feel it was enough, but at the time, it was a MAJOR achievement for me. I had worked 8 to 10 hours a day for 5 days a week to receive $300.
When "invited" to parties, I ended up providing free childcare while the other adults got drunk. I don't like the taste of alcohol or the feeling of being buzzed or drunk, so I don't partake. I feared what would happen to the ignored kids, so I found myself watching them.
I never had a lot of friends, so for a long time, I truly thought Wendy was my friend. It took conversations with my husband, my mom, Angelface, Joy, and others for me to see the reality of my situation.
Some may say this post is in fact gossiping about her. To a point, yes I will agree. I did change everybody's names though.
Ultimately, I have always questioned whether or not I was fair or did the right thing by Ghosting and blocking Wendy. I often second guess my choice; especially when thinking about those kids.
I have tried to be more alert about the people around me since this experience. I do still find myself being too nice and accepting of some ways in which I am treated. I have tried to build more boundaries though.

A bit of information:
Me(30f) stays home with our two toddlers while my husband (35m) works either five 8 hour or four 12 hour shifts of work at a non labour intensive job. I do all the cooking, cleaning, errands, grocery shopping, and appointments and most of the child rearing. I don’t ask him to do laundry, dishes, floors etc. Our oldest child is challenging as she is autistic. I had a job but he found it difficult to do what I do, his words, so I had to quit.
And now to the problem. I have to ask to spend any amount of money. Doesn’t matter if it’s for diapers, groceries or a coffee. I have to ask if it’s $2 or $200. I also have to say exactly what I spend it on. So if I go to Tim Hortons and get a coffee and donut but only say hey I’m going to Tim Hortons for a coffee I get in trouble because I lied since I didn’t mention the donut. He gets notified on his phone of how much and where I spend any money so I don’t think I should have to tell him exactly what I buy. I don’t buy clothes for myself or anything like that. He also times how long I’m gone. If I say I’m going to get groceries at Walmart but also stop at the dollar store next to Walmart, I lied and he can’t trust me. If I say I’m going to my drs appointment and stop to grab a coffee or a carton of milk as well, I lied since I didn’t say I was stopping. Then there are the times where I’ll hear a child cry so I’ll send him to check on them and he will say they aren’t crying and I need to quit lying. Or I’ll say there is dishes everywhere and he will say I’m lying because they are only on the counter and the table.
At this point I don’t know if I’m actually lying or subconsciously doing it because I’m scared of how he will react. I don’t think it’s lying if I grab two things instead of one…
I’m miserable and I tell him that but he says he’s happy and if I leave he will make sure I don’t get the kids. I do love him but I hate feeling like I’ll get in trouble for every little thing I do. I feel like a child when I’m an adult….

wishlist link: https://www.amazon.com/hz/wishlist/ls/370NAGIQ3G8T0?ref_=wl_share
UPDATE: breastpump has been bought
I know the biggest ask on my wishlist is the breast pump but this was the only one that worked for me with my previous children, and it would be the biggest blessing of them all but I am grateful for absolutely anything. Even if someone has this pump that they no longer use and would be willing to donate I'd be more than happy. I gave mine away after I weaned my last baby.
I’m currently 37 weeks pregnant and have been absolutely struggling to come up with the funds to get everything I need for this baby. I found out I was (accidentally) pregnant the same week I found out my husband had been having another affair. I live in a state where abortion is banned and I cannot file for divorce while pregnant. I got rid of everything after having my last baby because I truly believed he would be my last baby. I’m in the process of applying for disability because of my chronic health issues but in the meantime my only income has been cleaning my family and friend’s houses to try and stockpile for this new addition. My soon to be ex husband came back into our lives for 2 months to “work things out” and left again, has decided he wants nothing to do with this child, has offered no financial help, I’ve reached out to multiple churches and local resources. So far I have a couple packs of diapers, a bassinet, a hand me down carseat and a few breastmilk storage bags. I was hoping by this point I’d be able to have more but it seems this is my last resort. Thank you if you took the time to read this and I appreciate any and all help given!

To start off with I live in a house share of 3 individuals and a dog. One flatmate is extremely antisocial and I am trying to figure out if I have been gaslit.
To give some context I’ve been living with my flatmates partner against my will since September 2023. Both me and my other flatmate tried to make clear we were uncomfortable about this months ago. He is extremely messy and had previously punched other men whilst drunk on more than one occasion. We gave these as reasons for us not wanting to be left alone with him in the house. Instead he was given a house key and it took months for this to be readdressed, any discussions we had were forgotten and messages we would send were ignored. In April 2024 we have been told his housing situation was “tricky” and that the flatmate in question needed him here as he was her only support system. She did not give the option of him moving out but instead told us he might be moving out in May 2024. In those 6 months we have been forced to pay his food bill for weeks (we previously had a communal food supply and had to separate and label our food because she kept feeding him without any contribution ) We have had to clean up continually for them both (both of them are very messy and often left spaces needing to be cleaned before being used.) We are told that because food is now separate bringing this up as an example of her disrespect is unacceptable. I have brought up that it is still extra labor in having to clean more often, and spend more money for cleaning products and was told that isn’t true and that they contribute fairly ( Since discussions of us feeling extremely used he has occasionally replaced coffee and toilet paper, paid bills once as of April 2024, does the dishes and occasionally does the bins) we are the ones doing most of the cleaning and always have done so this is an unfair split of labour in my opinion (the dog is also hers so we are cleaning up after 2 adults and a dog)
Neither of them have attempted to communicate over anything, my flatmates partner turned up one day with his dad and moved his things, when I told my flatmate this was not cool they laughed in my face and made a dismissive joke. Neither of them communicated to us that he had been thrown out of his previous house and would be living here. We would just find him in the house when we were under the impression we were home alone.
I realise I could have spoken to him directly, but for some reason was convinced that it would be snakey towards my flatmate to confront him and ask him why he felt so comfortable to dump his labour onto myself and my other flatmate as a 28yr old grown man, so instead everybody in the house just avoided each other with a very passive aggressive environment, in which we all participated in silent treatment. At its peak myself and the flatmate in question would be shoulder barging each other, which is very toxic and sad.
So far the reason given for him not ever cleaning up after himself was that he did not think it would be appropriate and we created a passive aggressive environment. ( We were very angry in this period, I myself even snapped on occasions where I raised my voice at my flatmate saying cruel things which I am ashamed of. This was in response to me feeling as though I was being used as a personal maid)
To give some more context to my own shitty behaviour spaces in the house were regularly left to a point of being unusable, unless we did it ourselves. This involved a months long flea infestation that was so severe you could not be in the house without being jumped on, we repeatedly tried to address this until the point we just dealt with it ourselves. I have had my TV broken when my flatmate was partying with friends which took months to even be acknowledged and not be told that it was not the right time to ask about it. Myself and my other flatmate have had to buy a separate fridge as we literally could not get our food into the houses shared fridge because we were left little space and were still having to regularly clean out others mouldy food. The dog is extremely reactive, he has anxiety and is often only given 2 or 3 short walks a week and spends the majority of his time in one bedroom, so being in the house with him means constant barking and he has been quite destructive. For months she would leave her dog whilst out partying and ignored all messages trying to bring up this forced labour.
Around this time something in me just broke, I actively tried to be petty and use a tit for tat mentality in how I treated her. This involved a lack of care for her items, refusing to do any labour for her, separating every single little thing, giving each other silent treatment. My OCD had been badly triggered after living in a flea infested house, this caused me to go into overdrive with cleaning where I would snap at any little mess. This was too much from me and it was a little controlling, but the situation was then reframed as me being “controlling” and not allowing my flatmate to ever relax in their house, rather than ever returning to the original upset of forced labour.
(I am going to give an example of a game she enjoyed playing with me here to try and explain what I feel has been done to me. She used to come over and start playfully hitting me, she would then ignore me saying no or stop, then when I blew up she would say don’t talk to me like that and frame it as me being angry and shouting at her inappropriately. I have had to address this with her and she has not played this game with me again, but I’ve seen her do it to someone else since and laugh in their face whilst visibly upsetting them, so I know they still enjoy doing it to others. Though just a silly game, this comfortability with ignoring a no and their ability to genuinely convince herself she hasn’t been given a boundary is one that bleeds into real life. )
On one occasion during an argument regarding labour I shouted at her to ‘fuck off back to neglecting your dog’ and I’m sure there were other things I probably said in an attempt to hurt her as much as I was hurting. I take zero pride in this and am deeply ashamed that I lowered myself to that behaviour. She herself belittled me in front of shared friends telling me “you never do anything for me you only do things for others you do nothing for me” over and over until I left the room. We had a huge row where she came down mid shower (as the hot water goes if multiple taps are on) whilst I was doing her dishes as the kitchen was a complete shit hole. I then told her no I’m not going to stop because i need to use my kitchen, and she told me i was disgusting for banning her from showering I told her she was disgusting for leaving the house as she did (I’m not exactly sure my exact words) she then told me “‘theres no room talking to you when ur like this”. Neither of us were right in this but I am giving it as an example of how toxic it is in the house.
A few days following this I said that if she refuses to discuss anything when she is leaving the house unusable for others and her partner is freeloading that I would report her to the landlord (I am not working on logic at this time but because I have been in fight or flight for months) she then told me it was disgusting to threaten her with homelessness and that she would never do something like that to me. I did not mean it as an intimidation tactic or maybe I did I’m not sure, it’s hard to think logically after being ignored over months.
After the threat I made to contact the landlord we discussed all of this, some of which she acknowledged, we both made an effort to apologise. However she tried to diminish the labour her and her partner purposefully used us for, would not give specifics about him moving out, and refused to apologise for belittling telling me she did not remember and it is not something she would ever say so she doesn’t know what I expect her to do. They told me I was not paying extra or doing more labour with an additional person living here. They have since cleaned the garden of bags of shit and dirty underwear that were left out for months, and made small efforts to be cleaner. However most of the house labour still falls onto us. (Some more context they very recently were injured and no longer can clean right now. This I understand completely however I would be lying if I didn’t feel burdened and obligated to now have to do that labour, or to help them with basic tasks when I can barely look at them without feeling sick, also I am still doing labour for her partner).
We have tried to meet her on every level for a very long time, previously we have had discussions about asking her when she is free rather than just dropping things on her, using a house chat, using a cleaning chart. We have tried to compromise and she has ignored all of these after agreeing to them. When I have gone to ask if she is free I have had her snap ‘what now’ I have seen her roll her eyes to others regarding a cleaning chart she agreed to because others were tired of cleaning for her, ignore all messages in the house chat.
My property has been repeatedly damaged or not taken care of as has others. I’ve had to spend over £100 easily. I am so tired of being ignored, laughed at or given no response at all to continual lack of consideration for others and their boundaries. My reactivity does need to be worked on, yes. However theres only so far people can be pushed before they snap, and I’m terrified that I’m going to break again.
When I’ve discussed this with others who have lived with her to see if they noticed this pattern of behaviour they knew exactly what I was talking about, which worries me.
To sum up I do not feel safe in this house, my back is permanently against the wall as I am just waiting for the next boundary violation at this point. This has already happened in truth as we recently received a letter saying we were overdue for council tax which threatened court if not paid off, I paid off mine and I didn’t bother to ask my flatmate to send over the remaining owed money as I am fed up of having all communication ignored and did not want to wait for her to be bothered to send me the money. If there is something that needs her attention you often need to ask for it to be done over and over which again is labour in the first place. As far as I’m aware this bill is still overdue as I have been completely ignored regarding it.
I do not think she truly realises that she has deeply traumatised myself and my flatmate through giving us no autonomy over who lives in this house or leaving us to care for her dog. My OCD is still pretty bad and being in this house or around her makes my skin crawl. So I guess I am wondering if I have been gaslit? Taking my own toxic behaviour into account I do not know whether I can criticise her or if I am being hypocritical in labelling her as toxic. My memory is too foggy to remember a lot of what has actually happened, but I have this of strong feeling of disillusionment that will not leave. I am stuck in this house until October 2024, and I am trying to just get on with it, but I can’t stop obsessing over what has happened, sometimes it’s all I can think about. I feel too guilty or snakey to contact the landlord as she is a longtime friend and I am afraid she will badmouth me to others if I do so. Is she right that it would be controlling to contact the landlord? I guess I just need to know from someone unaffiliated if reporting her (whilst she is injured and also experiencing a bereavement) after we’ve tried to make amends makes me a cunt? Or if it means I’m just trying to survive?
Thanks to anyone who took the time to read ( I know its a long one 🙄)

Yesterday I had a fight with my boyfriend about washing laundry. He kindly loaded the coloured and some socks went missing, I reminded him to use the laundry bag next time. He then said he can never do anything right when he's helping me. I was very bothered how he frased this sentence and used "help me" in it. I confronted him and stated he is not helping me but doing a chore that is the responsibility of every grown up adult. At the end of the argument he said he thinks all I ever do is just laudry during the weekend. Everything else is taken care by him.
I was completely shocked by this statement. It was also the first time I noticed how people quickly dismiss or ignore little chores women do. I clean the appartment, feed the cat, change her water, clean her toilet, clean the bathroom so water doesn't stain everything, put the laundry away, sweep the floor, make a shopping list, pay the fucking bills, remind him about HIS doctor appointments, keep appliance warranties and instructions in binders, organize the bills in the binder...
I have never been so sad and disappointed. I know he can't reach my cleaning standards and we compromised, but not seeing everything I do? Why do man not see the mental load of women.

If you're interested in baby registry boxes but don't know which one to try or how to even sign up for them I have some info for you here! I got boxes/bags from Target, Walmart, Amazon, Hey Milestone, Babylist, and Similac and I'm still waiting for a box from Enfamil. I'm not an influencer or someone paid by these companies I just really like surprise boxes of stuff. I have pictures but I don't know how to add them. Anyway onto the lists.
Target:
How to get: This appears to have changed recently. According to target.com you join the Target Circle rewards, create a baby registry, add 10 items, and spend $10 from registry (either yourself of someone else). You have to pick up the bag in store with a barcode they give to you and it can be somewhat difficult to get since supplies are limited. When I did this in March all I had to do was create a registry and then go to the store to pick up the bag.
Items:
1 Philips Avent Natural Bottle
1 Dr Browns Anti-Colic Bottle
3 pack sample of Huggies Special Delivery Diapers
2 pack sample of Millie Moon Diapers
16 count sample of Huggies Natural Care wipes
10 count sample of Honest plant based wipes
10 count sample of Water Wipes
2 count sample of Lansinho breastmilk storage bags
2 count sample of Lansinho disposable nursing pads
1 count sample if Boogie Wipes
1 sample of Dreft scent booster for laundry
1 sample of Palmers stretch mark lotion
1 sample of Dapple bottle and dish soap
1 sample of Pedialyte
1 sample of Auqaphor baby ointment
1 sample bottle of Aveno baby wash and shampoo
1 sample tube of Triple Paste diaper rash cream
All coupons are through Target Circle rewards
Walmart:
How to Get: Sign up for a registry at Walmart. Click this link https://walmart.cesampling.com/babybox/soldout and fill out the form and it would be shipped to you for free. Unfortunately these boxes have been sold out since last year but maybe they will restock. I only got one because my OB’s office gave it to me at my first appointment. You’re not missing much by not getting one.
Items:
1 Dr Browns Anti-Colic Bottle
3 pack sample of Huggies Special Delivery Diapers
16 count sample pack of Huggies Natural Care Wipes
1 sample of Arm & Hammer baby laundry detergent
1 sample bottle of Johnson’s head to toe wash and shampoo
1 sample bottle of Aveno baby wash and shampoo
1 pack of milestone month cards
Insert cards (not coupons) for Gerber, WaterWipes, Liquid IV, Aquaphor, and Arm & Hammer
Amazon:
How to Get: Have an Amazon prime account. Create a baby registry. Add 10 items to your baby registry. Purchase $10 worth of items from registry (either yourself or someone else). Wait for the items to ship and then add the baby welcome box to your shopping cart. There should be a $35 coupon applied when you go to checkout.
1 Newborn Swaddle size 36in x 36in
1 Amazon Essentials 3-6 month onesie
1 Mam Anti-Colic Bottle and Pacifier set
1 Bessie's Best lactation cookie
2 count sample of Lansinho breastmilk storage bags
2 count sample of Lansinho disposable nursing pads
1 sample of Aquaphor baby ointment
1 sample of Palmers skin therapy oil
1 sample of Palmers stretch mark lotion
50% off coupon for Shutterfly
10% off coupon for Amazon Essentials (items must be from a list compiled by Amazon)
$20 off coupon for Tylenol Smart check digital ear scope
$200 off Factor meal delivery service
Inserts (not coupons) for Palmers, Aquaphor, Baby Breeza, Mam bottles/pacifers
A card booklet with ideas for the registry
Hey Milestone:
How to Get: Hey Milestone is not a registry. They make three different baby boxes you can choose from and you just pay shipping. If you’re considering multiple boxes it’s best to get them all at once because the shipping will be cheaper. Shipping for one was $12.99. I only got one, the pregnancy box, so I can't tell you what you may expect from the other two. Check them out here: https://www.heymilestone.com/
Items:
1 full size Boudreaux’s Butt Paste butt barrier
1 Herobility 5 oz bottle
1 sample pack of Bamba peanut butter puffs
1 Kudos diaper with 10% off coupon
1 Dr Browns pacifier
1 Nanobebe hospital go-bag kit (includes pacifier, 2 breastmilk bags, 2 nursing pads, 20% off coupon)
2 count sample of Lansinho breastmilk storage bags
2 count sample of Lansinho disposable nursing pads
1 Preggie Pop
1 Bessie’s Best lactation cookie
10 count sample pack of Zahler prenatal vitamins
1 sample of Bella B nipple butter
1 sample of Bella B cradle cap be gone shampoo
1 sample tube of Eucerin baby sunscreen
1 count sample of Jack n Jill baby gum and tooth wipes
1 nail file with info for Mother’s Milk Bank
10% off coupon for Boudreaux’s Butt Paste butt barrier from Amazon
$130 off good chop meat delivery
16 free meals from Hello Fresh
$1 Bamba snacks
1 insert for Forsite 350 genetic testing
Babylist:
How to Get: This one is by far the most involved process. Create a registry on Babylist. Enter in your baby’s due date, you address, and first and last name. Add three items from the Babylist shop. Add three items from other stores (you can do this by putting a plug-in from the website on Chrome or Firefox. More detailed instructions on the website). Complete 40% of your registry checklist (you can do this by just checking items off yourself). Spend $30 from your registry at the babylist store (either yourself of someone else). The $30 must be spent on items from the babylist store! Once these things are done you can pay $8.95 for shipping or you can chose simple shipping and it’s free.
Items:
1 Herobility 5oz bottle
1 Philips Avent Naturel bottle
1 Monica and Andy baby hat
1 Small Story 0-3 month onesie and 20% off coupon
1 Parker bib with 15% off coupon and a chance to win $200 giveaway
1 Nanobebe first pacifier
2 pack sample of Kudos diapers with 10% off coupon
2 pack sample of Healthy Baby diapers
2 pack sample of Parasol diapers
10 count sample of Honest plant based wipes
10 count sample of Water Wipes
10 count pack of motif medial breastmilk bags and 15% off coupon
1 sample tube of Noodle & Boo body wash and shampoo
1 sample tube of Noodle and Boo lotion
1 Bessie’s Best lactation cookie
2 count sample of Lansinho breastmilk storage bags
2 count sample of Lansinho disposable nursing pads
1 sample of Wellements probiotic and $15 off coupon
1 sample tube of Aquaphor baby ointment
1 sample of Desitin
1 sample of Palmers skin therapy oil
1 sample of Palmers stretch mark lotion
1 sample of Bird&Be vitamins and 15% off coupon
1 sample bottle of Vivi & Bloom body wash and shampoo
2 samples of Triple Paste diaper rash ointment and $2 off coupon
Coupon for a free onesie from Oso and Me ($32 value)
Coupon for free 8x8 photo book from Shutterfly
Coupon for a free will from Trust & Will
Coupon for free Swaddle from Little Unicorn
1 insert for babylist health for information on free breast pumps
Similac
How to Get: Sign up to my Similac rewards at https://www.similac.com/rewards.html . It’s completely free. I do recommend using an email you rarely use though and don't put in your phone number.
Items:
1 7 oz can of Similac 360 Total Care formula
1 7 oz can of Similac 360 Total Care Sensitive formula
1 sample of Pedialyte
Coupon for 1 free session at JC Penny portraits and 1 free 8 x 10 print
Coupons for $50 off Similac formula (They will send more in the mail once you use these)
16 free meals from Hello Fresh
Coupon for 50% off Shutterly
Coupon for $20 off Lovevery play kits
Coupon for $3 off Pedialyte
A collection of 12 gift cards to places I’ve never heard of ranging from $60-$30
Enfamil:
How to get:
Sign up for Enfamil Beginnings at https://www.enfamil.com/baby-formula-coupons-samples/ . It’s completely free. I do recommend using an email you rarely use and don’t put in your phone number. I’m still waiting on my Wonder Box to come. They tend to ship close to your due date so I may get it soon.
Overall thoughts: I enjoyed the fun of going through the boxes to see what I got. The Walmart one is no great loss to anyone not able to get one. I was disappointed with the Amazon one because I expected it to be a bit better based on what others had gotten. Plus I didn’t get the Dude Wipes people were getting and I was looking forward to them lol. The Babylist box was the best of the bunch, which is good considering the hoops you have to jump through to get it. Hey Milestone was great for the butt paste and bottle alone. I was also really pleased with the Target bag. These are just the things I got and each box/bag may be different.

While I really want a fancy structured bag, it might get worn once a month to church. I have Goyard totes and an MZ Wallace backpack and I'm just really in the mood for something more purse-like. My son is 4 now so I don't have to carry around diapers and wipes 🙌 What is a favorite mom bag that looks a little more sharp? I rarely dress up but just want something a little more special that can still hold all the snacks 😆