Quotes for my husband s birthday

I think I’ve been asking the wrong questions and not doing the right thing with my LO
He is 5 weeks old atm and I’m just realizing we don’t really have a schedule. We moved into a new home two weeks ago and it messed everything up schedule wise.
He wakes between 4am-5am and it’s impossible to put him back down in his bassinet so he sleeps with me until 7am-8am when I take my daughter to the bus stop for school.
Then during the day I’ve never really put him down for naps. I just hope that he falls asleep at some point but I’m realizing this is likely a mistake.
Then my husband takes him from 8:30pm and lets him sleep in his lap until 11pm ish so that I can get some sleep. I feed him at 11pm and put him in his bassinet but it’s a struggle to get him to sleep and I’d be been trying for an hour ish I just end up letting him sleep with me. Once he falls asleep he will stay asleep until 2am ish. He then goes back down with lots of struggles until 4am ish and then it starts all over again.
The internet says his wake window at this age should be 30-120 min. So should I be putting him down for naps at the 120 min mark if he’s not showing signs? Should his naps also be in his bassinet with his swaddle? Maybe he’s not sleep well at night because he’s over tired from lack of naps. I dunno. I just need help and feel like I’m doing this all wrong.

My husband and I are expecting a baby boy and are trying to decide on a baby name. I’ve always loved the name Avery (fake name) and before my husband and I were even married we talked about baby names and I said I loved that name for a kid. He said he did too and it happened to be a family name so it was a win win. The real name has a lot of positive associations for both of us. We both agreed and said if we ever had a boy we’d name him Avery.
A few years later when his sister was pregnant and we were visiting, she asked us if we’d ever thought of any baby names and we mentioned Avery. My MIL overheard and gasped. Apparently, her father (who has passed) named Avery, had gone by Abe because he had a negative association with the name since his own father was named Avery and was abusive in some way. We had no idea about this until my MIL mentioned it and it seems most others in the family didn’t know either. Both my husbands grandpa Abe and great grandpa Avery passed before my husband was born.
Well I’m pregnant now and my husband and I both can’t get the name out of our heads. Maybe our bad for thinking it could be our future kid’s name for so long. But while there’s a million other names out there we really love that name and are really struggling to separate from it.
We might be the assholes for wanting to keep the name when it clearly has a negative association, at least to my mother in law, and we don’t want our kids name to have a stigma. But on the other hand we only see my husbands side of the family like twice a year and both love the name.

Hello Reddit! I’m six months along with boy and girl twins. My husband and I have quite liked the name Nathaniel for a boy for quite some time now, and we’ve settled on the name Nathaniel Roger for him. However! We never discussed girl names before we got pregnant, but since we’re having twins I wanted to give them names that are similar in some sort of way so I wanted it to start with the same letter.
I like the name Nirviane for a girl. Pronounced ner-veen. I think it sounds very lovely and like a cool girl’s name. However! The times I’ve brought this up to my friends, they haven’t reacted positively. I do know it’s a somewhat unusual name. My husband suggested the name Norma which I don’t like as much, but he said Nirviane would be alright with him because it isn’t too common and sounds proper to him. If it helps, our last name is Khlat (my husband is Cambodian, I’m white) and we live in Arizona. I plan to name her Nirviane Janet. Although nobody I know seems to agree with this, so what are your thoughts on it? I feel everyone in my circle is exaggerating about it being a bad name because one of my friends who vetoed it has a daughter named Priscilla (which I don’t like, it sounds like prissy), and another has a daughter named Marigold who goes by Golda.
What are your thoughts on it?

“I was making lunch for my 5 year old when my 13 year old started playing with knives in the knife drawer. I asked him to stop, and he slapped me on my hand and I was shocked.
I said “what are you doing?!”, he then retreated to his room and got a TENNIS RACKET and started wailing on me to the point of bruising my wrist and elbow.
My husband (his step dad) had to come out and grab him and put him in his room. The entire time my son was yelling “come do something about it b****!” to my husband..
This morning he went to his school counselor and said me and my husband hit him (not true), didn’t say anything about hitting me with the racket, and then said to the counselor he has anger issues and needs help.
He has threatened me multiple times with “lying so cps takes his sister and him”. Then he’ll act so sweet and hug me and say I love you not even 5 minutes after..
I’m at my end, I don’t know what to do. Obviously therapy but we have been doing that and he DOES NOT open up or talk.
We’ve tried family therapy and individual. I’m so confused as to what’s is causing this. “
Posting for my sister who doesn’t Reddit. she needs advice/recommendations on what to do.

My 20 year old sister passed away in March of last year. She was buried directly behind our paternal grandfather (and when she passes our grandmother). My paternal aunts will be buried in the plots side by side to their parents. My parents bought the two plots on either side of my sister.
The plan right now is my dad will be on one side and my mom on the other. My maternal grandmother will be buried with my mom (one casket + two things of ashes can be buried in one grave in our cemetery).
Our older sister will be buried with little sister.
So basically my parents, both sisters and 3/4 grandparents and two aunts will be buried in the same place. I want to too when the day comes. I’m only 22 but I don’t care if it takes 70 years.
My dad is against adding me directly to my little sister’s stone as of right now, which I agree with. We are finally able to look into grave stones after her funeral costs so we have been discussing it more lately.
But I said “we can always do it later” and he kept on insisting I can only do it after I get married because my future husband might not want to be buried there and want to share a grave with me in a different plot or cemetery all together.
I get what he is saying. I do. And I would not make the final decision for a few years at least. But here’s the thing I’m single right now, and I wouldn’t mind being buried in the plot directly behind my sister(s) grave if my future husband wanted to be buried there as well (which I can purchase it if it want to). But if he doesn’t want to be buried there then I’ll insist to be cremated and some ashes go into the grave my sisters are/ will be one day. And some with my future spouse or for my future children to have.
My dad will end up being buried with 2 of his children (all 3 if I’m buried there) his wife, parents, MIL and sisters, he also has a brother but I’m not sure about him as he lives in Europe. I want to be buried with my family. My mom’s two sisters are divorced and so are my maternal grandparents. There is always a chance I get divorced or something. If I’m buried with my family I’ll always know I’m with people who love me I am not sure about the future and who I will end up marrying.
My dad says i shouldn’t do anything until I’m married.
AITA if I end up choosing this before I get married like according to my dad?

My brother and I both have a bad relationship and I personally can’t stand to even be around him. Unfortunately, we’re both living together with my other siblings at my parents house. The other day he got in my face and wanted to fight me, and I saw this look in his face that made me feel like he wanted to hurt me badly. Today I tried to ignore him and he started commenting on how I always have this dramatic angry face, and that led to him threatening to fight me again. I won’t lie, I have a sharp tongue and can say some hurtful stuff but doesn’t warrant him coming up to my face and looking at me like he wants to kill me. Since then I haven’t felt safe around him but I’m also not gonna let him hurt me if it were to reach that point.
My brother has a history of being a terrible person and being aggressive towards everyone. I’ve seen him get aggressive with my mom, dad, his ex, his own son, my siblings, and nothing is ever done about it. Everyone seems to be terrified of him but somehow we’re all supposed to accept his behavior. He’s even caused my poor mom health issues and trauma. She’s developed this trembling whenever she gets a little upset.
He also recently stole my dad’s truck for a day and threatened to kill himself. I do want to mention that he’s been threatening to kill himself for the last 3 years whenever he’s held accountable for something or whenever he does something shitty. Like recently he showed up with both my nephew and his ex to his own sons birthday party 2 hours late and that’s what led him to disappearing with my dad’s truck for a day.
I personally don’t care what happens to him at this point, and all I want is for all of this to stop, but he continues to terrorize our lives and my family doesn’t know what to do about it anymore

TW: seeking advice on potential loss I am currently 21.5 weeks pregnant. Our baby boy has skeletal dysplasia, bilateral clubbed feet, and hydrops. There is fluid all under our boys skin surrounding his entire body and it is now surrounding his lungs. From last weeks scan to this weeks scan the hydrops is progressing. As of right now all testing has come back negative/normal. We have been told that our baby boy will not survive even if he made it to term. We were given the option to wait it out or we have time left still to terminate. I don’t know what to do. My very supportive husband wants me to make the final choice as he is worried about my mental health. Day to day is torture, and waiting until he passes away will be torture. But I don’t know if I can live with the “what if” and live with myself for wanting to end it now when he is moving around in there and doing all the things he should be doing. On the other hand, we know what the outcome will be, so why prolong it? We don’t know how many weeks we have left with him. My other concern is our son is turning 3 in one month. I can’t phantom losing our baby boy on or very close to our other other son’s birthday. My husbands birthday is beginning of July, his birthday is already a bad day for him due to his father passing away when he was 12 a few days before his birthday. His father’s funeral was on his birthday. I can’t phantom my husband having to deal with another loss so close to his birthday. These all seem like selfish reasons but they’re in the back of my head. I just don’t know what to think or what to decide. What has everyone’s experience been? Has there been any regrets either with waiting it out or deciding to terminate? How do I make this decision? Help.

One of my host family doesnt wish me a happy birthday on my birthday. I don’t get any gifts or cake for my birthday at all but they constantly talk about buying a birthday cake for one of their pets like im lowk upset, but I didn’t say anything. Maybe it’s just normal here?😭

Hello Reddit! I’m six months along with boy and girl twins. My husband and I have quite liked the name Nathaniel for a boy for quite some time now, and we’ve settled on the name Nathaniel Roger for him. However! We never discussed girl names before we got pregnant, but since we’re having twins I wanted to give them names that are similar in some sort of way so I wanted it to start with the same letter.
I like the name Nirviane for a girl. Pronounced ner-veen. I think it sounds very lovely and like a cool girl’s name. However! The times I’ve brought this up to my friends, they haven’t reacted positively. I do know it’s a somewhat unusual name. My husband suggested the name Norma which I don’t like as much, but he said Nirviane would be alright with him because it isn’t too common and sounds proper to him. If it helps, our last name is Khlat (my husband is Cambodian, I’m white) and we live in Arizona. I plan to name her Nirviane Janet. Although nobody I know seems to agree with this, so what are your thoughts on it? I feel everyone in my circle is exaggerating about it being a bad name because one of my friends who vetoed it has a daughter named Priscilla (which I don’t like, it sounds like prissy), and another has a daughter named Marigold who goes by Golda.
What are your thoughts on it?

This is the first time I have written something of this length, and is more of an exercise in self-therapy than anything else. Disclaimer: This story contains conversations about child abuse. Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoy it.
Nathan’s number appeared on my phone screen. I debated whether or not to answer it. We hadn’t been on speaking terms for a while, and while we did keep in touch sporadically, it was usually because of important family issues. I didn’t know of anything happening with mom or dad, nor with Talia or Rio, so I let it go to voicemail. I could always call him back later. I placed the phone back in my pocket, and returned to cleaning my camera. The phone buzzed again. A text message came through. I read the preview line from the home screen. “The city declared eminent domain on the house” I unlocked my phone, read the full text message, and dialed my brother.
I wasn't able to get any closer to the house than a few blocks. Most of the area was blocked off with chain link fencing and construction equipment in preparation for the demolition that was supposed to take place within the coming days. The barriers didn’t prevent people from walking in to the neighborhood, but it hindered scrappers from coming in and stripping the houses of copper wiring and plumbing.
I grabbed my camera bag out of the trunk of my car along with my tripod. I shouldered it and hooked the tripod to my bag. I pulled my water bottle out of the center console and shut the door. I stood next to my car surveying the neighborhood. 12 city blocks of old single family homes comprised the neighborhood where I grew up. Some of the houses had been empty for months, others for years. There was an eerie silence that permeated the still air. I could not hear the familiar sounds of people, pets, or cars. I locked the car and put my keys in my pocket. I patted my jacket down to ensure I had what I needed. After a quick check, I started my walk.
The sidewalk of the old neighborhood streets still bore the familiar cracks and grind marks from years of buckling and remedy. Leaves dropped by the trees still lay scattered all along the pathways and sidewalk. Korina’s house was the first house I encountered as I made my way through a gap in the fence. The yard was overgrown with tall grass and thistle. I could see the faded blue paint of the old house contrasting the green and browns of the lawn. The chain link fence that marked off the corner property was nearly invisible through the thick brush. As I continued walking west towards 110th, I started to feel something was off. The streets seemed wider than I remembered. It took me longer than I’d like to admit, but eventually I realized what was different. There were no cars.
The streets here typically had cars lined bumper to bumper in any spot available, and were visible from block to block. The absence of all these vehicles made me realize just how deserted the neighborhood really was. House after house, yard after yard, the telltale signs of desertion reinforced what I could see from the moment I passed the construction fence: This was no longer my neighborhood. There were no signs of life, and no one I could expect to find still here. Abandonment was the new normal here. I continued on, glancing at houses and recalling memories of summer bike rides, and daily walks with dogs I used to have. I remembered walks home from school, and chasing after ice cream trucks when they passed our houses. I smiled a bit as I remembered more and more of my years spent here. I don’t quite know just why I was smiling. There were plenty of bad memories here too. Fights, yelling, being beat up, being robbed. I could remember failed friendships, lost loves, and bitter feelings of failures too.
Still, I felt a certain amount of nostalgia despite the weight of these negative feelings. I almost wanted to experience everything again, although I wasn't sure why I was feeling this way. Concrete, asphalt, billboards and liquor stores were the normal vistas of everyday life. Occasionally, after a good rainstorm, the grey haze of smog would lift, and the mountains would be visible to the north. At least, they would be visible until mid-morning when the exhaust from a million cars covered them behind a veil of pollution.
It wasn’t until the first time I travelled out of the city that I realized there was more to see. Traveling up the coast north along the Pacific Coast Highway introduced me to scenes of deep blue ocean water spanning the width of my vision. Driving up Highway 3 introduced me to the permeating scent of Pine and Fir trees. The two-lane stretch of highway from Portland to Tillamook introduced me to lush green forests that I had only ever read about. When I came home to the same old dirty, dusty concrete and boiling summer asphalt, I had made up my mind. I would do everything it took to leave this place. I would not spend another day longer than was necessary living in cramped quarters and fighting for parking space.
I arrived to the house, and paused at the gate. The house sat in contrast of what the rest of the neighborhood looked like. Instead of overgrown grass and tall weeds all over the place, the landscaping showed signs of relatively recent work. The guava tree in the front lawn still had some fruit ready to be picked, and the avocado tree on the other side of the pathway was still weighed down by its own fruit. Flowers still bloomed in the raised bed in front of the house. My brother had clearly tried to keep up on things until the last possible moment. The house, too, looked better than what I expected after walking up 4 blocks and seeing nothing but dilapidated houses and unkempt yards. I opened the gate and walked up to the small porch. The metal gate that enclosed it was gone having been removed by my brother when he took over the property. It looked nice to see it open instead of the cage it once felt like.
I turned the knob on the door, but it didn't give. Ever a creature of habit, my brother had locked the door when he left. Of course, he did. I sighed and prepared to find another way in when I remembered my parents hiding a spare key. I wasn’t sure if it would still be there, but after running my hands along the back side of the gutter downspout, I was rewarded for my efforts. I unlocked the front door and stepped into the front living room, the sounds of my footsteps and the closing door echoing in the empty space. The room felt both larger and smaller than I remembered it. I suppose it was lack of furniture that made it feel larger, but it still felt smaller than I remember. The result of growing taller throughout the years I suppose. I slowly walked along the slate tile floor towards the central hallway that connected the front of the house to the back bedrooms. I wasn't entirely sure that just because the front door was locked, that there wasn't some squatter looking for a little temporary shelter within the back rooms. I carefully and silently crept step by step towards what used to be the bedroom shared by my sister and me. I stuck my head in and gave the room a cursory glance. It was empty, thankfully. I moved back into the hallway and peered into the bedroom across the hall. This is where both of my brothers had shared a room. It too, was empty save for a few boxes holding hardware and doorknobs from the closet doors of the bedroom. I walked back towards the back of the house where my parent's bedroom was. The walls in the hallway bore the dusty signs where picture once hung. The bedroom door was open. I stepped inside, and looked around. The old avocado paint that my mom had picked out years ago still adorned the walls. Walking further towards the addition that was the small room my grandma and grandpa lived in showed that there was no one here. I breathed a sigh of relief as I set my bag down and set up my tripod. I reached into my bag a pulled out an envelope of old photos. These were old snapshots that we had all taken at some point in time in the house. There were pictures of all of us sitting at the dining room table playing a game of Monopoly. There was a picture of my brother and sister sitting on a couch in the front living room. There was a picture of me hanging on the bars of the front porch. I looked through them all and held them in place in front of me as if I were holding a window to the past.
Each picture made the lump in my throat grow as I started to struggle to control my emotions. There was history here, and soon it would all be gone. This is the place where my parents had raised four kids. They had taken care of my grandparents in their twilight years here. My Aunt and my grandmother had both died in this house. Birthdays, graduation parties, and anniversaries had been celebrated here. The echoes of life had reverberated within the walls of this place. Now, the house sat silent. It would never again know happy screams of kids having a water-balloon war out in the front yard, nor would it hear the cries of anguish as the matriarch of the family passed away surrounded by her family. What once was a home full of life was now just an empty house made of drywall and paint. I sat there for a moment contemplating just how much family history was actually made here. As I thought hard about my siblings and my parents, I felt pained at the thought of our strained relationships. We had all scattered once we had the opportunity to be free of each other. My oldest brother had married and moved away as soon as possible. My sister now lived in northern California. My parents too had moved away. I was now living in Utah. Only my older brother had remained behind. The lump grew larger in my throat as tears welled up in my eyes. I held back sobs of anger and pain. Why was I hurting? Hadn’t I dealt with these issues already? I walked back to my old bedroom and sat down under the window. I pulled my head down into my knees and cried. I could hear yelling and screaming in my head. Shouting matches between siblings and parents, brothers and sister, rattled inside my brain, making the pain grow. I sat there and cried. I hadn’t cried like this in a long time. Eventually I ran out of tears and tired gasps of sorrow and regret washed over me as a blanket of drowsiness enveloped me. I leaned my head back and fell asleep.
I woke up to the sound of footsteps. It took me a moment to realize what I was hearing and hurriedly stood up. Had someone followed me? I knew the police were patrolling the area sporadically. Had they seen me enter the house? I knew there would be a possibility of getting a trespassing citation, but I figured I could either talk my way out of it seeing as to how I was a former resident, or I could probably fight the citation in court if the judge knew why I was there in the first place. Ultimately, passing through the gate had been a calculated risk that I was willing to take for the sake of my art. I got up from my corner of the room and moved towards the door. If there was someone in the house, I needed to know. I didn’t want my gear to stolen, and if there was a cop in the house, I wanted to ensure I didn’t get shot.
I was greeted by the sight of a startled chubby boy standing on the other side of the door. His round cherubic face was crowned by a head of short curly hair. His hazel green eyes stared widely back at me. He clearly didn’t expect someone to be here in the house. His body recoiled in fear as he cowered back towards the hallway. “Wait, what are you doing here?” I asked as non-threateningly as I could. The boy muttered something that I couldn’t quite make out. “What did you say? I couldn’t hear you” I replied. “Are you here to rob us?” he timidly responded. “Rob you? What are you talking about?” I asked as confusion set in. “What are you doing here?” It was his turn to be confused. “Uh…I….live here?” he replied. “What do you mean you live here? No one lives-“I stopped midsentence. I hadn’t noticed in my initial shock but the room wasn’t the same. A familiar blue couch caught the corner of my eye. In front of that was an old console TV with a partially broken antenna hanging on the wall behind it. I walked further in to the living room to notice wood paneling on the walls. A large mirror hung on the wall to my left. Familiar yellow lamps sat on round drop-leaf tables on either side of the couch. A large hutch sat in one corner, a collection of letters and bills, mail advertisements, and a phone book covered scattered over it. “What just happened?” I asked out loud to no one in particular. I was thoroughly mystified by what my eyes were seeing. I had walked into the house from the front door and had stepped into an empty white room with slate floor tiles, but somehow now found myself in a furnished room with brown carpet that was all so familiar to me, yet was nothing but a distant faded memory. I turned to look at the boy still startled by the intrusion of a strange man looking wildly around the room in total shock.
“You can take what you want, just please let me go. I don’t want problems.” He stated his voice still shrill with anxiety. I blinked a few times as I tried to process just what the heck was going on. I gathered my thoughts as best I could and tried to reassure him. “Kid, I’m not here to rob anyone. I was just-“I shook my head “Where the hell am I? Am I having a dream?” I asked myself. “I must be dreaming. I’m just tired and still sleeping. This is all a dream. Yeah, that’s it.” I needed to sit down. Being back in the old house must have overtaxed my senses, I told myself. I’d having a dream about an old memory. I walked over to the chair next to the couch and sat down. I sunk into it and rested my head back towards the wall.
The boy kept his distance, but sensed I wasn’t there to hurt him. He looked me over with anxious curiosity. He stood at the far end of the couch, examining me while he played out scenarios in his head in preparation for a quick exit. “Why are you in my house?” he asked me. “Dude, this is all just a dream I’m having. I’m not really here.” He reached over to the couch and picked up a pillow. He reared his arm and threw it at me. It landed in my lap. “I don’t know, man. You sure seem to be here.” He said to me. I opened my eyes, startled. I looked down at the pillow he tossed and examined it. I ran my hand over the fabric and felt its texture. I remember this pillow. This was the pillow I would roll under my head as I lay on the couch and watched TV as a kid. A sudden realization hit me as I looked around the room with fresh eyes. No longer was I blinded by the fog of confusion. I knew exactly where I was.
I was home.
I looked at the boy still standing at the edge of the couch. I looked him over and realized who he actually was. I stared in disbelief as I smiled and tried to put him at ease. “It’s ok Johnny. I’m not here to hurt you. No one is going to hurt you. Please, sit down” I told him. I motioned to his end of the couch. “Who are you, and why are you here?” he asked me.
“This will be hard to believe, but I’m you” I said with an incredulous tone, “I’m not sure how I ended up here, but I’m here.” He looked at me as I had grown a second head. “That doesn’t make any sense. How could you be me? Did we invent time travel? Oh! Are we secret government agents with the CIA?”
I chuckled. “Wait, wait, wait. Let’s start at the beginning. I’m you at 38 years old. You’re…what, 11… 12 years old? It makes sense. I fell asleep under the window in my- our old bedroom. I didn’t come here on purpose or in a machine. And no, I’m not a government agent.” His face contorted to display understanding, disappointment and finally suspicion. His eyes narrowed as he leaned in towards me. “How do I know you’re really me?” he asked. I thought about it for a moment. How could I prove to him that I was who I said I was? A few seconds of silence settled between us. I stroked my chin, thinking of a solution.
“I have a better idea. Ask me questions that only you know the answers to.” “Okay” he responded. He glanced around the room trying to come up with something. His eyes fixated on the Nintendo sitting under the TV cabinet. “What game do me and Nathan have a map of?” I looked over at the NES. I hadn’t thought about this for years, but I knew instantly what he was asking. “YOU don’t have anything. Nathan is the one that made the map for Section Z” His jaw dropped. He tried to trick me, but his plan failed. He knew well and good that Nathan never let him play. It was always ‘I’ll let you play when I die’ or, ‘you can play when I’m done’. The problem was that he never followed through. Usually by the time Nathan was done, the NES was overheated, and the game would no longer load until it cooled down. By that point, it was time for bed.
“How do you know that?” he asked in astonishment. “I know these things because I’m you. Just like I know that you wear t-shirts to the pool because you’re embarrassed by what others will think of your body. I know that you used to think that people that die off in movies were prisoners that were set to be executed from death row, so they used them for making movies. I know all about you because I’m you”
Johnny sat on the end of the couch in bewilderment, his mouth slightly agape. He had never told anyone any of this. He didn’t have any close friends to talk to about such things, and those friends he did have were more acquaintances than friends. There was only one way he could possibly know these things. He was talking to his future self.
I could see Johnny’s mind completely explode. There lay endless possibility and the answers to a million questions he could ask about his own future. He started to ask a question, only to stop, close his mouth, and try asking another. I knew if he kept this up he would have a stroke or something. “Dude, calm yourself. Let’s talk this out rationally, otherwise you’ll end up stroking out or something.” I told him. He took a deep breath and I could hear him muttering quietly. I knew he was trying to form a coherent sentence before he actually spoke it. I did it all the time. “Ok, first of all, are we rich?” he asked with tempered expectation. I chuckled and grinned back at him. “No, not at all. If I was rich, would I be dressed like this?” I replied as I motioned to my beat up brown Vans and worn out jeans and T-shirt. “We-, I – make enough to get by. I’m not poor, but I earn enough to pay the bills.” His face grew a smirk as he commented “Yeah, I figured. What do I do for work? I mean, what do you do for work?” I thought about it for a second. I wondered how much information I should divulge to a younger me. I still didn’t think this whole situation was really happening, but if it was, I probably should proceed with caution. “Well, it’s complicated. I do a little bit of everything. You know how you’re constantly taking things apart? Let’s just say that it’s good to put them back together in order to keep them working. Take good notes on paper if you need to, and make sure you have a clean work area so you can keep track of all the parts.” He gave me a sheepish look. He knew exactly what I was talking about. I had spent countless hours sneaking dad’s tools to my room so I could figure out how something was built and try to figure out how it worked. I had gotten myself into some pretty bad trouble with dad over a drill, his timing light, and other stuff I had taken from his room. His belt had become quite familiar with my butt cheeks.
I gave him a knowing smile. “What else do you want to know?” He thought about it for a second. “Do we have a girlfriend?” I laughed, probably a little more than I should have because his face contorted into a sour frown. “You don’t need to be a jerk about it” he scowled. I continued to chuckle. “Yeah we have a girlfriend. We have more than a girlfriend” I could tell he was irritated with my vague indirect answers. I knew what he was asking. I remember the crush I had on my neighbor across the street. We had been friends since kindergarten, and had been classmates for 1st, 2nd, and 4th grades. We got along really well, and I knew from around 12 or 13 that I wanted to be her boyfriend. Unfortunately, things never progressed beyond the ‘just friends’ stage of things. It wasn’t from lack of effort on my part. We had just grown up together most of our lives that she didn’t see me as anything more than a brother and friend. “Dude, look. You just started to go through changes and you are starting to notice girls, but that doesn’t mean that you need to love every girl that shows you a little kindness or subtle interest. You need to slow down and let things happen naturally. You can’t force a relationship with someone.” Johnny pondered these words for a moment. I sat back and put my feet up on the coffee table. I looked around the room some more while I waited for another question. There was so much I had forgotten, but being back here had unlocked more and more memories that continued to wash over me. I was trying to hold on to my cool as not all those churned up recollections were pleasant. I stood up and walked over to the front door to peer outside the small central window embedded into the center of it. I could see the old neighborhood as I remembered it all those years ago. The lot across the street that served as a parking area for those that worked at the wheel works at the end of the block was empty of cars. I furrowed my brow as I thought for a moment. An empty lot meant it was afterhours or the weekend.
The gears in my own head started turning. “Wait, where is everyone?” I asked Johnny. Johnny turned to look at me still processing my last response. “Uh..oh, Mom and dad are out of town. They took a trip east this time. I think Rio said they are in Arizona right now. Rio and Nathan went out to get some food and to rent some movies from Video Showcase. Knowing them they’ll eat out first. Talia is staying over at Tia Rosie’s place today with her friends.” I grunted at his response. My mind was wandering as he mentioned Talia and Tia Rosie.
A sudden sharp pain pieced my heart. The pain of a thousand memories now unsealed spilled out from the box I had locked them away in. Tears welled in the corners of my eyes as I turned back to look at Johnny. He felt it too. He stared at the floor with an intensity that made me think it would burst into flames at any moment. I walked back over to him and sat next to him. He didn’t move. I placed my hand on his shoulder, and he threw himself into me. I could feel the tears dripping onto me as he sobbed intensely. “Hey man, its ok. It’s going to be ok.” I said as my own tears started to flow uncontrollably. I pulled him close and draped my other arm around him.
I knew the pain he was feeling. It was such a heavy burden, and I knew there was no one he felt he could talk to. I remembered it all so vividly. We sat there for what seemed to be an eternity. When we finally stopped sobbing, and our noses ran dry, we tried to breathe our way through to calmness. I got up and knelt in front of him. “Johnny, listen to me and remember what it is that I’m about to say to you. You are stronger than you think. You are stronger than you believe. NO ONE should ever have to go through this. Just because it happened to Talia, doesn’t mean you have to put up with it any longer. I know you didn’t think it was wrong, but I’m telling you that what she is doing to you is wrong. Talking to mom and dad isn’t going to make them hate you. You are not doing this to her, she is doing it to you. I’m not making excuses for her, but she is also more damaged than anyone realizes, and she is also dealing with the same level of pain you are. Remember that we do unto others what has been done to us. That doesn’t mean we need to continue the cycle of abuse” The lump in my throat grew immense at my own statement. I swallowed it as best I could and continued “You are going to deal with this pain a little bit at a time, and you’ll slowly get over this. It’s like a broken bone. When it happens, you don’t realize how bad the pain is until the adrenaline wears off, but then the immense pain is there. Just remember that this will pass. Just like a broken bone, you will heal over time, and one day, you will realize that the pain is gone and the bone is no longer broken. You’ll remember the pain, but it won’t hurt anymore.”
Johnny sat there in stunned silence. I knew he didn’t have anyone to help him through this. He couldn’t talk to Rio or Nathan about what was going on. Mom and Dad were constantly working to keep the family fed and sheltered and while they provided materially for their kids, emotional help was less available. Perhaps it was due to their energies being divided into 4 kids, a mortgage and multiple jobs, or perhaps it was also the culture of not talking about problems. Either way, they needed to know what was happening. They wouldn’t be able to fix it otherwise. “They’re going to be mad at me” he finally said after a few moments of silence. “No they won’t be. They love us all. I know you’re not used to hearing it, but they do love you. Everything they do is because of their love for us. This isn’t your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong. Telling them isn’t going to cause them to be angry.” I thought for a moment to find a good analogy. “You love Odie and Lady, right?” He nodded in agreement. “Ok, how would you feel if you knew someone you trusted was coming to the house and beating up our dogs when we weren’t around?” He thought about it for a second before his face changed to anger. “I’d want to kill them!” “Yes, but would you also feel sad that you weren’t there to try to protect them?” I reasoned. His face changed again. He understood what I was saying. Mom and Dad would be angry, but not necessarily at him. They would also feel a great sadness knowing that someone was hurting their child.
I smiled at him. He understood. I nodded. “Dude…You’re going to come to understand that life is not what you think it will be. Life is messy and can change in an instant. The plans you make today may not make it to next week. A lifelong goal can be derailed because of something out of your control. Mom and dad have spent their life protecting us with the goal of keeping us safe, but circumstances out of their control have affected their kids, and now we- you all have to deal with the fallout. Just remember that you are not the culprit. Yes, mom and dad will be hurt and angry, but not at you. Trust them. They don’t do things to hurt us” Johnny hugged me. I- He didn’t have many people he could trust and open up to. He liked to talk a lot about everything going on in his life, no matter how trivial. Everything, except this. This was a shameful topic, and he didn’t feel like anyone would understand why he didn’t go to an adult sooner. The problem was simple. He simply didn’t understand that it was wrong. Now that he had an adult that he could talk to, himself no less, he wanted to lift this burden off his shoulders. He was happy to have found someone and he hugged me tightly. I hugged him back just at tightly. It wasn’t every day that I could meet my younger self and help to comfort them. “Thank you” he said to me.
The world darkened, and everything faded to black.
I lifted my head out of my knees and looked around. I was sitting under the window in my old bedroom again. Had I fallen asleep? I pulled my phone out of my pocket and checked the time. I was emotionally drained and incredibly tired. I hadn’t had sleep like that in years. I got to my feet and looked around the room briefly before walking out to mom and dad’s old room. I grabbed my camera and slowly walked the house, snapping picture after picture. The only sound to be heard was the sound of the camera shutter and my soft footsteps. I thought about my dream as I took pictures.
Upon entering my room, a random memory hit me.
The stash.
I was pretty sure I had taken the hidden box when I moved out all those years ago, but since I was here, I should double check. Heading into the closet, I pushed the panel that led to the attic space out of the way and peered in. I couldn’t see anything, so I reached up there to feel around. The box was indeed gone. I felt around for a few more seconds and was surprised to feel what felt like a thick envelope. I didn’t remember leaving anything up there, but after pulling it down and giving it a cursory glance, I figured it was an old envelope of lost love letters. It wasn’t until I blew off the thick layer of dust that I realized what I was holding. It was a letter. Not just any letter. It was addressed to me.
Under the now semi-cleared layer of dust were the words “To be opened by future me”. I looked at it for a few moments before opening it. I couldn’t remember making this at all, much less storing it up in my secret hiding spot. If ever I hid something, it was in the stash box. My hands shook a bit as I started to open the envelope and pulled out the yellowed pages inside. I started reading.
"Dear Future John. I have spent the last few years remembering a dream I had when I was younger. Life was…difficult at that time, and I spent a lot of time escaping my reality by reading a lot of books and watching a lot of TV. On the off-chance that what I think is a dream really happened. I wanted to write some things down in an effort to give you my thanks. I merely consider myself a conveyer of thanks, although I will pile on my own thanks to you for your words of encouragement. I remember finding a stranger in the house one day while I was home alone. I was afraid he was there to hurt me at first, but after a few moments, I came to realize I was meeting myself. Well, I was meeting me, but from the future. I think he said he was in his 40’s, but I couldn’t tell you with any certainty. Either way, we talked. We talked about life, and what the future held in store for us…
Mostly though, we talked about the abuse. Well, Talked is being generous. We cried, and then we talked. I don’t remember exactly what he told me, but I remember how he made me feel. He made me feel safe. I felt like I could trust him. Trust myself. In the end, he gave me the courage to stand up for myself both at home and at school. He also gave me the courage to talk to mom and dad about what was going on between me and Talia. I do remember being afraid that I would be punished, but he reassured me that they wouldn’t, and that they loved me.
It was a difficult and awkward conversation, but in the end, arrangements were made for me to share a room with Rio and Nathan. I didn’t have much of a relationship with Talia for a long while, but after some years, we managed to patch things up. She apologized to me, and I came to understand the abuse she herself was subjected to by so-called family friends. She didn’t tell me this in an effort to excuse it, but to merely help give me closure to a difficult time from my own childhood. Mom and dad promised to be more attentive to us and we sort of established what I guess you would call an open door policy. We talk more about stuff that’s happening in our lives. Mom is much easier to talk to now. Dad is a little more patient with us too. I apologized to them for not coming to them sooner, and dad gave me a “nugget of wisdom” that I think I’ll live by: We can’t fix what we don’t know is broken. I’ve tried to make sure I talk to them when something is wrong, and I’ve tried to implement that in my life so I don’t have problems with other people.
I’m trying to grow up to be a good guy. I want to have good relationships with people. Nathan says I’m turning into a people pleaser, but I don’t necessarily see that as a terrible thing. I know when to say no to someone. Well, either way, I wanted to make sure I thank you for the help you gave us. I probably won’t remember writing this, but I hope I do find it again someday. Here’s hoping I turn into the man I feel you are. -John Age 16."
I stared at the letter, the words blurring as tears welled up in my eyes. I quickly brushed them away as I quietly spoke to no one in particular. “Thanks guys. I hope I live up to your expectations” I folded the letter, placed it in my pocket, and walked out of the room. After picking up my backpack and tripod, I silently walked towards the front door, my footsteps echoing in the empty house. I turned to look back at the empty living room one last time, and after a moment, I walked out.

Hello Reddit! I’m six months along with boy and girl twins. My husband and I have quite liked the name Nathaniel for a boy for quite some time now, and we’ve settled on the name Nathaniel Roger for him. However! We never discussed girl names before we got pregnant, but since we’re having twins I wanted to give them names that are similar in some sort of way so I wanted it to start with the same letter.
I like the name Nirviane for a girl. Pronounced ner-veen. I think it sounds very lovely and like a cool girl’s name. However! The times I’ve brought this up to my friends, they haven’t reacted positively. I do know it’s a somewhat unusual name. My husband suggested the name Norma which I don’t like as much, but he said Nirviane would be alright with him because it isn’t too common and sounds proper to him. If it helps, our last name is Khlat (my husband is Cambodian, I’m white) and we live in Arizona. I plan to name her Nirviane Janet. Although nobody I know seems to agree with this, so what are your thoughts on it? I feel everyone in my circle is exaggerating about it being a bad name because one of my friends who vetoed it has a daughter named Priscilla (which I don’t like, it sounds like prissy), and another has a daughter named Marigold who goes by Golda.
What are your thoughts on it?

Hi fellow travel enthusiasts,
My husbands birthday is in July and I am planning an international 10 day trip (including travel time) to coincide with the last week of June and early July as a celebration.
We are a childless couple in our mid 30s who enjoy really immersing ourselves in the local culture through cuisine and connecting with locals. We also want to maximize our child free time by traveling to locations that may be challenging to do once we have children. Do you all have any advice and suggestions for destinations that may fit the bill?
For reference, we would be flying out of sfo, budget is not an issue, and love a mix of both adventurous and quiet exploring through our travels. We’d like less crowded destinations but that is not a deal breaker for us.
Places we have traveled together: Japan, Bahamas, Mexico, turkey, Italy, Pakistan, Costa Rica, Canada.
Places up for consideration: - Iceland - Peru (2 day Inca trail hike to macchu pichu) - Portugal (azores)
Would welcome other more adventurous destination suggestions from you all. Thank you!!!

My husband (37M) and I (35F) have a rocky relationship after the birth of my son (4M). I resented him, probably mainly because I was exclusively breastfeeding so I took all the day and night feeds, even after I went back to work full time 6 months later. He also has a temper, is brusque and easy with vulgarities - characteristics I didn’t like but was willing to accept as part of his “package” before we got married. There was a period of time he was overly harsh to my toddler such as force feeding him solids and screaming at him when my son split food - when I tried to intervene then, he said I undermined his disciplinary methods. I wasn’t confident of my own parenting approach so I backed off. I still feel bad and disempowered. He “apologised unreservedly” (in his words) but I think I still haven’t completely forgiven him or moved on.
We have gone for marriage counselling, and somewhat ascertained that I have an avoidant style when it comes to conflict - which is to shut down, disengage, sweep under the rug. He has also accepted that he is critical but he thinks it’s because he “has standards”. We have made a commitment to try to work things out in the marriage. He has also since been kinder and more patient with our toddler. But an incident a couple of weeks ago made me question if I am really prepared to stay.
Our toddler was fussing in the morning about not wanting to go to school and my husband in his anger, decided that fine, no school then and that he will not be driving our toddler to school. Since I was working from home that day, I told my husband that I could drive our kid to school and requested for the car keys. He said I undermined his discipline and that if I wanted to do things my way, I could take the bus to school instead, which I felt was unreasonable. My kid was crying the entire time we were arguing and eventually was ready to go to school. My husband was also prepared to send him to school, and refused for me to tag along because “he didn’t want to see my face”. I was worried for my son because I knew my husband has a temper, so I insisted on going along. My husband screamed at me multiple times to get out of the car or he would drag me out (I don’t recall this part confidently). My son was crying for me to accompany him, but I did not because I didn’t want to make a scene. Beyond the humiliation, I also feel bad that I was weak and couldn’t “protect” my son.
I asked him for an apology subsequently for the screaming and he said he’s not going to give me one because “I started it”. He also suggested we talk about separation which I agreed to.
This week (we haven’t talked about separation yet), he’s suddenly nice(?). We went for a Mother’s Day lunch. He’s also initiating sex and touch which I wasn’t in the mood for because I feel used and I didn’t see the point of it anymore. I’m so confused by his actions.
I think I would have left if it wasn’t for my son. I think divorce would be a logistical and financial nightmare, which may involve moving, changing my son’s school and I don’t want my son to get drenched because of our storm. Is screaming abusive enough?

Ok. I’m a first time mom, currently 35 weeks and my husband and I have been struggling to find a name. We initially loved the name Zayn but we stayed away from it bc my brother has a zayne and my friend (who moved to a diff state btw) also named her son that.
Idk I feel like Im overthinking but I also don’t know what to do. My husband and I love this name and feel like it fits so well with our names and our family. It’s easier for people to say too than the other names we liked.
Should I have a conversation with anyone or should I just do it and live my life?
Edit: my nephew is 8 years old now so theres a age gap too

Just finished another watch through and I just wanted to post about my appreciation for Dan the character. We all know John Goodman is an amazing actor but his portrayal of Dan is just top tier!
Dan was one of the best sitcom dads, he loved his friends, family and wife & kids with all his heart. I just wanna post some highlights that stick out to me.
In the first couple of season Dan worked extra hours and multiple jobs when Roseanne couldn’t keep a consistent job, all while still running the house and helping with the kids—even though he may not have know exactly what to do he knew the right thing to do. His relationship with his dad felt so real and like something everyone has had with a parent at some point.
He went against his wife to support and nourish a relationship with mark, and help mark and Becky getting to see one another again. He went to all of Darlene’s games and took time after dinner to spend time perfecting her sports craft. He went to DJ’s woodchuck meetings, took him camping and played along with his imagination.
He had the upmost respect for his mother and never truly said anything bad about her. Him and his father had such a up and down relationship but in the end Dan knew that he had to settle difference to bring the family together. Even though Dan did not get along with Roseanne’s parents, if they really needed him he was there (ex: grabbing their bags, putting shower pads down (late lol) etc) And the relationship with Jackie was some of the best moments on the show (Jackie trying to bring Dan down by jumping on his back, consoling Jackie when no one was around, he pretty much treated her like another sister.
Dan and his friends were some of the best parts of the show to me. It showed men actually trying to ask questions and understand where each other were coming from, even if they were joking and roasting each other. Dan showed up for crystal in more ways than I could count (bringing her to talk to her first husband, helping with her car, fixing things at her house while she was pregnant.)
For me Dan was the person that had no judgment in his heart (which I found weird when they made him semi racist for not wanting DJ to kiss the girl for the play.) Him and chuckie having the conversation about race was crazy to show on prime time tv and I’m beyond proud they had the conversation. Dan accepted Leon and Nancy after finding out about them being queer, which is a huge feat for someone coming out of a small conservative town. Him going to beat up fisher after finding out about him assaulting Jackie.
Some things I didn’t like what they did with his character: like I stated above making him semi racist. When they would make him just be obviously obtuse about a situation when normally Dan wouldn’t think twice about the situation. Dan cheating of course (even though it wasn’t real lol) Dan loosing his bike shop (I thought this would have been such an interesting job to have him keep)
Sorry for being so long lol I just have been thinking about how much I love this character!

Talked to Husband about how im not Satisfied with our sex life again. How i Want sex every Day. And his reply was I can hardly doit “once a week” yet I’ve caught him in the shower multiple timesssss going at it . In the same week! After watching porn. Of course i was upset. Because how can he do that yet forces himself to be with me only once a week. After that conversation he just agreed to have sex with me twice a week and that he will stop watching porn. Yet i know he hasn’t stopped and most of the time he is not keeping his end of the deal of having sex with me twice a week. He keeps making excuses on how he is tired ,how he’s not feeling it, the weather! etc. I dont like pleasuring my self just feels blahh . I rather have physical contact. Plus our relationship is not on great terms either since my trust for him has been broken. He also “promised” to spend more time with h me to reconnect and he makes the same excuses to avoid it. Like at this point his word means nothing to me. How can i make this relationship work when im unhappy? And he doesn’t seem to put in the effort to fix us. I cant Just leave. There is too much on the line . And I’ve thought about cheating but thats just not me. I feel stuck. Help.

Me (38F) and my husband (39M) have three kids: 11F, 5F, 3M. Long story short, hubs and I had been on and off for many years and were not together when our first daughter was born. He lived and worked abroad and did not see her much, but always put in effort to keep a relationship with her and be an active parent as much as he could with the distance. He moved back home around 6 years ago and we slowly rekindled our relationship. We tried moving slow as to not confuse our daughter, but then I feel pregnant again, so we decided to get married. Since then, he’s been an amazing husband and father, he is very hands-on. However, my eldest daughter still struggles, especially since our youngest was born. There is a bit of a language barrier in the family (I am from Country A, hubs is from Country B, we all live in Country C), my two younger kids are fully trilingual, but between themselves they gravitate towards using husband’s native language, which my eldest daughter struggles with because she wasn’t exposed to and raised in this language for the first 5-6 years of her life. Husband and I do everything we can to make sure we never treat her any differently than the younger kids, that she’s loved and cherished all the same despite our family having looked different than when she was younger. I think she resents my husband for not being around more when she was growing up, as she acts very jealous of her siblings around important events or milestones especially, such as birthdays, first day of school, etc. We have tried offering counselling to her, but she refuses. What can I do to help her through this?

Married going on 4 years now no affection from my husband, no gifts for Christmas, Birthdays or just random (guessing junk food counts to him even though I am trying to stay healthy) I think I am just here to split the bills, clean and take care of our pets. I’m exhausted, therapy didn’t help much he “changes” then when things look okay to him, he’s back to what he used to do. Video games and youtube…no effort to make time for us even if it’s just an hour. I have been isolating myself lately because I don’t have energy for anything. I take on a lot of tasks but he gets to be stressed on his ass because the tasks at work are too much for him to do anything else. I am a project manager so I know all about stress and unrealistic expectations…but my duties don’t stop when I am sick, depressed or tired. I still have to cook, clean and pay bills. He convinces me to stay but I don’t think my feelings are in it anymore I am just on autopilot and stuck. It’s true what they say, domestic abuse will keep you because you’re too chicken to leave. I am experiencing the emotional side of it withholds love if I do something wrong but gets upset when I tell him what hurts my feelings or what is wrong. Its only been 4 years…

Hello!
My wife and I are selling our home. It is a 1935 brick house, 1400sqft, 3bd 1 bath. It’s a cute house! We are in North Carolina.
We have a buyer who offered $15k over asking with $1000 DD, and a $7.5k appraisal gap. We countered the $1000 DD and asked for $2000. She is a contingent buyer and we were looking to make sure she was serious.
She got offended that we asked for more due diligence, so she lowered her offer to 5K over with 5K appraisal gap.
Whatever, no big deal, unless at our house high, knowing we may get less so the fact that we were still above, we were happy .
Our home inspection came back well with only 25 items. Mostly cosmetic. However, there was one or two piers in the crawlspace that was slightly detached from the brick foundation (when I say slightly, I mean slightly, and a few floor joists needed either a pier or joist hanger..
She gave us a repair request for 17 items. We did fix and repair most of the things on the list, and the crawlspace we got a quote for a contractor to remedy of $500. We were goingto credit the amount at closing. Our contractor is unavailable to do the work before close.
Well, that wasn’t good enough and they want us to put $5000 in an escrow account because buyer does not believe it will only be $500.
Buyer is now threatening to terminate if we dont do their demand. Any funds remaining after work completed would be refunded to us. But since our quote is $500, that’s all we’re willing to put towards the repair.
Buyer has also made no effort to get their own quote or own contractor to do an inspection.
We will probably tell them to pound sand, call their bluff of terminating, tell them to take the $500 credit since they have no quote of their own.
I am currently asking our contractor for a favor to squeeze us in before close. If he can, this all may be resolved. But I am worried about nit picking and them claiming the work “wasn’t done right”.
If buyer backs out, there’s a good chance we will back out of the home we are buying.
I wanted to open it up for discussion.

Hi guys, i just kinda want someone to tell me what the hell is wrong with me. i was in a “online relationship” around 2022 right for a couple months and he was like a drug addict and had his own issues so ultimately he ended things bc he had to work on himself or what not. while he went away to rehab, on my birthday i found out he actually had a girlfriend from august, which was way after we ended things however we were still in contact and sending things to eachother and he was telling me he loved me. we ended things obviously and he kinda left me with no explanation. eventually he came back a couple of times and everytime i let him come back into my life and it’s always the same outcome everytime he always screws me over and i don’t know why i love him so much. i feel like carrie from sex and the city omg. help