Do you or will you have seen stored away in a refrigerator somewhere just in case?
I see one of the pros of being childfree is that it's not final. On the off chance you do change your mind it can be waiting there for you.
This is the story all about how my life got twist turned upside down...
I'm just kidding, but hey, if the shoe fits, wear it.
This happened several months ago, and I'm still not over it, so I thought sharing my experience would help me feel better.
About two years ago, I was living in the Midwest and had decided to come back home to the east coast. I packed up all my things, drove the 1300 or so miles, popped my things in storage, and began couch surfing with family and friends.
Being back in my old hometown, I ran into an old female acquaintance. We will call her Cathy. We had gone to school together as kids, and we were friendly, but never friends. Cathy and I hung out a handful of times over the next few months and realized we were in similar positions in life. We were both unhappy with our jobs, we both had gone through a breakup recently, and we were both looking to change our living situations. Eventually we came to the conclusion that we should pool our collective misery, find an apartment together, and be each others cheerleaders. We'd overcome our funks and conquer the world.
Ha.
We were able to find an affordable apartment quickly and so we moved in together. Things were rocky from the get go. It began with little normal issues. Leaving dishes in the sink for weeks, having small parties without giving me a heads up, et cetera. So, after a few months, we had a talk about it. Im not really the confrontational type, and I always do my best to be understanding. I also have enough self awareness to know I can be an annoying person to live with, so I made sure to listen to Cathy and her concerns as well.
After I voiced my complaints, I began to see less and less of Cathy. Almost as if she was avoiding me. If I went out for coffee on a weekend, I'd come back and she'd be gone for the day. If I came home from work early, I'd go to my room and I'd hear her leave her room and go out the front door and be gone for the day. I didn't think anything of it at first, but then weeks turned into months. I basically stopped using the common areas of the apartment and kept to my room when I was there. At this point I was leaving checks on the refrigerator for utilities and bills because I never saw her nor was I able to get in touch with her.
I came to the conclusion that Cathy was an extreme introvert and really didn't like confrontation, and got upset by the airing of grievances, so she decided to avoid me. Despite the awkwardness, we ended up staying in this apartment well past the lease date. Mostly because I was living a very busy lifestyle and would use the apartment just for sleep.
So. Now that you've had some back story, here's the fun part. After our lease ran out, our rental agreement went to a month to month arrangement. Cathy had emailed me asking about my plans for the apartment. Whether I wanted to renegotiate a new lease or find a new place alone. I had just got a new better paying job, so I had been thinking about getting my own place. I told her we should just keep it month to month for now and that I was casually looking for a new apartment.
Well she took that to mean I was moving out for sure, and that meant she could let her new deadbeat boyfriend stay there. Was I thrilled? Nope. But I allowed it because I'm an idiot. Now, I'm not quick to judge people, but Cathy's man was a pain in the ass. Unemployed, but always had money for the cigs he chainsmoked while listening to loud punk rock on our porch. He also would find money for all his brightly colored hair dyes, and ironic t shirts. He wasn't on the lease and wasn't paying rent, so naturally, I got pretty upset. However, I still didn't blow my top, I didn't want to make Cathy upset by kicking her man out.
A few months of this, and they ask me if I had made any progress in finding an apartment. I had really only done a few cursory searches which upset them both. That's when they told me that they were having a baby. She was over four months along and that they needed the apartment. And honestly, I felt really bad for them, but for Cathy in general. Her man had no job, no credit, and was a few months away from fatherhood. She had a decent job, but not so good that it could support her, a baby, and the grown up baby she got knocked up by.
So, being a cf individual, I wanted to run away screaming from that situation. I told them that I'd try and find a new place to live and that I was happy for them. (More like I was happy it wasn't happening to me!)
But the kindness soon dissipated. My new job was paying me well, but not so well that I could afford an apartment on my own. After a few weeks of searching, they began to get impatient. Asking me for updates everyday. Telling me how important it was for me to move so they can have a normal living space for their new family. Telling me how much stress I was causing by my refusal to leave and how bad it was for the baby. How I'd understand when I had a baby. (Ha!) Even having their friends send me listings for shitty studios in even shittier parts of town.
I told them that I was going to leave when I found the right apartment and that I wasn't going to set myself back just because they found it inconvenient that I was living in my own apartment. I also said that if it was causing so much stress, that they should take responsibility for the situation they were in, and find their own apartment.
They did not. Like. That. One. Bit.
They decided to make my life hell. Cathy told all of our mutual hometown friends what a monster I was being. How I was refusing to leave and was verbally abusing them. She went and lied to our building manager and told them she didn't feel safe anymore with me there because I was a drug addict. (Sometimes I smoke pot. Shocker.) She played the preggo card, had her bf confirm her lies about me, but there was still nothing they could do because I was a leaseholder. So now, I'm being attacked on social media, being questioned by my building super, and then herbs has the audacity to threaten me and take a swing at me when I stand my ground.
That's when I had to leave. I knew that i was so angry and fed up that if I hit him I'd do serious damage and it'd be my word against a mombie her dumb basic bitch friends and her shitty man. I know how that story ends up. So I packed my stuff, put it into storage, and abandoned my apartment after a year and a half of awkwardness and stress. I had to go back to living on families couches for a while
It was awful. I was trying to help them and they acted like I was a monster for not just giving them the apartment. I lost friends who heard her and her friends version of the story. Everyday for months, I was treated shitty and told what a bad person I was. I I had never felt the mombie sense of entitlement until this experience and I've had enough of it for a lifetime.
The story does have a happy ending though. This whole ordeal gave me the courage to ask my child free girlfriend to live with me, and for six months, we've been happy as hell. Using our two incomes to decorate our apartment with mid century modern furniture and art instead of having to buy value packs of diapers at sams club. I come home everyday to a home I'm proud of, to a woman who loves me and to a life I'm sure is far far happier than sad ol Cathy.
Thanks for reading my rant. I love this sub.
I get my milk and some of my meat and produce from a farm stand (actually hosted in a small storefront with refrigerators/freezers). I'm not 100% crunchy granola, I just prefer raw milk and like supporting local farmers.
Today as I was parking, a mother had just parked and was unloading her four girls - all under the age of 10. Two were in booster/car seats still. It's a small enough little shop that I just decided to wait until she came out. They looked sweet and well behaved, but it's just a really small space. It didn't take her long as it looks like all she went in for was a gallon of milk. Loading/unloading 4 kids... all for a gallon of milk. Good grief. It literally took her longer to get the kids back in the car than it did to go in and get her milk. Reason number bazillionty-and-one I'm glad I'm CF.
Beyond sick of listening to breeders fret about the environment.
And breeders, you don't get to lecture anyone about their lifestyles, ever. This is because birthing carbon-spewing units is by far the most environmentally destructive thing you have done in your life -- and nothing will ever undo or reverse your destructive decision. From Reproduction and the carbon legacies of individuals, the authoritative Oregon State University study:
Below are a few examples of how much carbon dioxide (in metric tons) is saved over a lifetime (80 years) by a typical American for certain actions, including not having one child.
The conclusion:
Clearly, the potential savings from reduced reproduction are huge compared to the savings that can be achieved by changes in lifestyle. For example, a woman in the United States who adopted the six non-reproductive changes in Table 3 would save about 486 tons of CO2 emissions during her lifetime, but, if she were to have two children, this would eventually add nearly 40 times that amount of CO2 (18,882 t) to the earth's atmosphere.
Hey all.
So I didn't expect my last post to blow up like that, but many people pointed out that my GM is awesome.
And you're right.
He is.
So I thought I'd talk him up some more, and regale you with a previous incident that involved another mombie and my boss being amazing.
~ ~ Time travel back three months ~ ~
So once again, I was working the front desk of my hotel and we had a lady check in who didn't have her kids with her, but we were able to pin her as a mombie right away anyways.
She was here for a conference, and was staying with us for two nights. Apparently she had just pooped out another crotchling because she asked if we had a refrigerator in the room to store breastmilk. No judgement on that. People breastfeed, and have to travel. Whatever.
Well, we do have mini-fridges in our rooms, but like most hotel's, it's part of the minibar. We offer to have the items inside removed so she could use it, and she agreed and went on her merry way.
For a minute.
Well, of course the mini-fridge wasn't adequate. It didn't get cold enough.
Now, I obviously don't have kids, and although I have breasts, they're for ornamentation. So I know nothing about storing breast milk and what temperature is "adequate." I would assume it would be the same as cow's milk, which can be stored in our fridges, no problem.
Apparently, that's not good enough. She needs it to freeze. Well, we have mini "Fridges" but not mini "freezers."
No worries. We've run into situations like this before where we've had to store a guest's personal frozen items in our break-room freezer. We tell her we don't have a mini-fridge cold enough, but we'd be more than happy to take it down to our break room and store it in the (perfectly adequate and rarely used) freezer.
Well, that's not good enough either. She wants a freezer IN her room. Now, I'm good, but I'm not magic. I can't make a mini-fridge turn into a mini-freezer. And neither can my engineer (I asked). So I have to break it to her that unfortunately that was our only option.
Cue RAGE FIT.
Mombie: You don't understand! I have to pump FOUR times a DAY!!! Are you telling me I have to bring it to the desk EVERY TIME?
Me: I'm sorry, I understand the inconvenience. But I'd be more than happy to send my bellman up to the room to bring it down for you.
Mombie: But they're MEN!!!! Do you know how embarrassing that is!?!?!?!
Ok, so here's the thing. Yes. My bellmen are all men. And all five of them have children. (And are all people-parents, thank god. Not once have I had to rearrange a schedule because of Snotleigh's surprise recital. They request for these events WELL in advance.) And they are the epitome of respectful, but ok. I guess it's a little embarrassing.
Me: I understand. If it makes you feel better, I would be more than happy to arrange a female staff member to do it.
Mombie: NO!!! I want a freezer in my room!!
Me: Unfortunately we don't have freezers we can have delivered to the room. We only have the full sized refrigerator with a freezer in the break room.
Mombie: Well then bring that up!!!!
Ok. I am NOT going to tell the entire hotel staff that they can't have a fridge for their lunches so ONE guest can store breast milk in it. Nor am I going to ask our engineer to lug a full-sized fridge up eight floors to her room.
Me: I'm sorry ma'am. But we aren't able to move that refrigerator.
Mombie: You are SO unhelpful!!!!
There's that word again.
Well, I thought I'd heard the end of it until two hours later, she comes down to the desk with a ratty old shoe box. (It looks an awful lot like another shoebox reddit is familiar with. You know the one.)
She then proceeds to take out two bottles and begin angrily pouring the contents into baggies RIGHT THERE AT THE DESK.
Mombie: This is SO embarrasing! I can't believe you're making me do this?
Me and my first-day trainee are just silent, both wondering why the hell, if it's so embarrassing, is she doing this at the front desk.
She throws the baggies into the shoebox and slams it on the desk.
Mombie: You'd better take care of this. This is horrible. I'm going to talk to the manager about this in the morning!!!
Jokes on you. I'm the manager.
My trainee, not knowing what else to do, wishes her a good night, and then shrinks back as Mombie just stares daggers at her before stalking back over to the elevator.
Now that the song and dance with angry Mombie is over, the trainee asks if she wants me to take it to the freezer. I tell her no, I'll do it myself. She can relax for a bit.
So I slide the box towards me and wouldn't you know... She didn't seal the baggies.
I immediatley go for damage control, throw open the box and try to upright the leaking bags, to little avail. Most of the breastmilk was now spilled on my desk, ruining my paperwork and soaking through my shirt. I close the baggies as best I can without throwing the shoe box in a rage and call for housekeeping to help us clean up the mess.
He's there almost instantly, sees the mess and asks what it is. My trainee responds with "breastmilk." He stares at me and then bursts out laughing.
Now I'll admit, had I not been covered in the stuff, I might have found it a bit funny. But I was just grossed out and thinking about how it would be another 5 hours before I got to go home and change and lamenting that I didn't have a spare shirt.
He starts to clean up the mess, and I dig through my drawer to find some mini-binder clips to seal what little milk was left in the baggies.
And who do you suppose walks around the corner? if you guessed Breastmilk Mombie, you'd be correct. Bitch had forgotten to grab her key before storming down to make a scene.
Now she comes around the corner, there's obviously milk everywhere, and me, holding the box, soaked.
She doesn't even use WORDS to yell at me and just screams incoherently, bursting in to tears, occasionally getting something intelligible out like: "Ruined!" or "Bitch" or "...on purpose!!!" while my trainee tries to explain that the bags were left open, to no avail. (I told her to shut up, because it was honestly making it worse.)
Ok. I get the Mombie being upset. I mean, this was food for her kid. And most of it was, at this point, soaking through my clothes and dripping into my socks. But SHE was the one who hadn't sealed the bags. SHE was the one who decided to make a show out of transferring the milk to the baggies at the desk instead of doing it in her room. And SHE was the one who used language at my trainee that normally would have warranted an eviction.
And I was the one who was going to have to work the next 5 hours covered in her tit-juice. If ANYONE had the right to cry over spilled milk, it was me.
After her blubbering for a full five minutes, I cut her a new key, told her I was puting what was left of the milk in the freezer and made my escape.
She was gone by the time I got back, leaving only my trainee and my housekeeper trying to muffle their snickering.
Anywhoo, no problems with the rest of her stay. I left my staff to deal with her, mainly because if I had gotten any more involved, it would have just made things worse, and wrote an email to my GM, letting him know what happened.
And then came the email. OF COURSE she sent an email.
Luckily she didn't email Corporate, and sent it to the "Contact Us!" link on our webpage, which goes directly to me, my staff and the GM.
I don't have the email anymore because it was too long ago, but it was essentially the following:
I was rude and disrespectful. (Wasn't)
I didn't even TRY to help her. (Bitch, I had my engineer check EVERY minifridge in EVERY vacant room in hopes to find one that would get to freezing temperatures.)
I was condescending. (Nope)
I swore at her. (I swear. A lot. Just not at work.)
I purposefully spilled her breastmilk. (On myself?)
And I should be fired immediately! (Uh...)
Well because she already hated me, I knew contacting her back wasn't the right thing to do. So I asked my GM to handle the situation and explained why. It was a busy day, so I didn't get to speak with him for a while, but he already knew the story from my previous email to him. Later on, in between my (literal) running around, I ran in to him as I was jogging up the staircase from the executive offices.
Me: Did you get the email?
GM: Yep.
Me: You responded, right?
GM: I did. But I don't think she'll be staying with us again.
Me: So... I'm getting fired later, right?
GM: As long as you're aware.
Me: Well, it was a pleasure working for you.
GM: Yep. See you around.
And he never said another thing to me about it again.
Spoiler alert: I didn't get fired.
Hey all.
So I didn't expect my last post to blow up like that, but many people pointed out that my GM is awesome.
And you're right.
He is.
So I thought I'd talk him up some more, and regale you with a previous incident that involved another mombie and my boss being amazing.
~ ~ Time travel back three months ~ ~
So once again, I was working the front desk of my hotel and we had a lady check in who didn't have her kids with her, but we were able to pin her as a mombie right away anyways.
She was here for a conference, and was staying with us for two nights. Apparently she had just pooped out another crotchling because she asked if we had a refrigerator in the room to store breastmilk. No judgement on that. People breastfeed, and have to travel. Whatever.
Well, we do have mini-fridges in our rooms, but like most hotel's, it's part of the minibar. We offer to have the items inside removed so she could use it, and she agreed and went on her merry way.
For a minute.
Well, of course the mini-fridge wasn't adequate. It didn't get cold enough.
Now, I obviously don't have kids, and although I have breasts, they're for ornamentation. So I know nothing about storing breast milk and what temperature is "adequate." I would assume it would be the same as cow's milk, which can be stored in our fridges, no problem.
Apparently, that's not good enough. She needs it to freeze. Well, we have mini "Fridges" but not mini "freezers."
No worries. We've run into situations like this before where we've had to store a guest's personal frozen items in our break-room freezer. We tell her we don't have a mini-fridge cold enough, but we'd be more than happy to take it down to our break room and store it in the (perfectly adequate and rarely used) freezer.
Well, that's not good enough either. She wants a freezer IN her room. Now, I'm good, but I'm not magic. I can't make a mini-fridge turn into a mini-freezer. And neither can my engineer (I asked). So I have to break it to her that unfortunately that was our only option.
Cue RAGE FIT.
Mombie: You don't understand! I have to pump FOUR times a DAY!!! Are you telling me I have to bring it to the desk EVERY TIME?
Me: I'm sorry, I understand the inconvenience. But I'd be more than happy to send my bellman up to the room to bring it down for you.
Mombie: But they're MEN!!!! Do you know how embarrassing that is!?!?!?!
Ok, so here's the thing. Yes. My bellmen are all men. And all five of them have children. (And are all people-parents, thank god. Not once have I had to rearrange a schedule because of Snotleigh's surprise recital. They request for these events WELL in advance.) And they are the epitome of respectful, but ok. I guess it's a little embarrassing.
Me: I understand. If it makes you feel better, I would be more than happy to arrange a female staff member to do it.
Mombie: NO!!! I want a freezer in my room!!
Me: Unfortunately we don't have freezers we can have delivered to the room. We only have the full sized refrigerator with a freezer in the break room.
Mombie: Well then bring that up!!!!
Ok. I am NOT going to tell the entire hotel staff that they can't have a fridge for their lunches so ONE guest can store breast milk in it. Nor am I going to ask our engineer to lug a full-sized fridge up eight floors to her room.
Me: I'm sorry ma'am. But we aren't able to move that refrigerator.
Mombie: You are SO unhelpful!!!!
There's that word again.
Well, I thought I'd heard the end of it until two hours later, she comes down to the desk with a ratty old shoe box. (It looks an awful lot like another shoebox reddit is familiar with. You know the one.)
She then proceeds to take out two bottles and begin angrily pouring the contents into baggies RIGHT THERE AT THE DESK.
Mombie: This is SO embarrasing! I can't believe you're making me do this?
Me and my first-day trainee are just silent, both wondering why the hell, if it's so embarrassing, is she doing this at the front desk.
She throws the baggies into the shoebox and slams it on the desk.
Mombie: You'd better take care of this. This is horrible. I'm going to talk to the manager about this in the morning!!!
Jokes on you. I'm the manager.
My trainee, not knowing what else to do, wishes her a good night, and then shrinks back as Mombie just stares daggers at her before stalking back over to the elevator.
Now that the song and dance with angry Mombie is over, the trainee asks if she wants me to take it to the freezer. I tell her no, I'll do it myself. She can relax for a bit.
So I slide the box towards me and wouldn't you know... She didn't seal the baggies.
I immediatley go for damage control, throw open the box and try to upright the leaking bags, to little avail. Most of the breastmilk was now spilled on my desk, ruining my paperwork and soaking through my shirt. I close the baggies as best I can without throwing the shoe box in a rage and call for housekeeping to help us clean up the mess.
He's there almost instantly, sees the mess and asks what it is. My trainee responds with "breastmilk." He stares at me and then bursts out laughing.
Now I'll admit, had I not been covered in the stuff, I might have found it a bit funny. But I was just grossed out and thinking about how it would be another 5 hours before I got to go home and change and lamenting that I didn't have a spare shirt.
He starts to clean up the mess, and I dig through my drawer to find some mini-binder clips to seal what little milk was left in the baggies.
And who do you suppose walks around the corner? if you guessed Breastmilk Mombie, you'd be correct. Bitch had forgotten to grab her key before storming down to make a scene.
Now she comes around the corner, there's obviously milk everywhere, and me, holding the box, soaked.
She doesn't even use WORDS to yell at me and just screams incoherently, bursting in to tears, occasionally getting something intelligible out like: "Ruined!" or "Bitch" or "...on purpose!!!" while my trainee tries to explain that the bags were left open, to no avail. (I told her to shut up, because it was honestly making it worse.)
Ok. I get the Mombie being upset. I mean, this was food for her kid. And most of it was, at this point, soaking through my clothes and dripping into my socks. But SHE was the one who hadn't sealed the bags. SHE was the one who decided to make a show out of transferring the milk to the baggies at the desk instead of doing it in her room. And SHE was the one who used language at my trainee that normally would have warranted an eviction.
And I was the one who was going to have to work the next 5 hours covered in her tit-juice. If ANYONE had the right to cry over spilled milk, it was me.
After her blubbering for a full five minutes, I cut her a new key, told her I was puting what was left of the milk in the freezer and made my escape.
She was gone by the time I got back, leaving only my trainee and my housekeeper trying to muffle their snickering.
Anywhoo, no problems with the rest of her stay. I left my staff to deal with her, mainly because if I had gotten any more involved, it would have just made things worse, and wrote an email to my GM, letting him know what happened.
And then came the email. OF COURSE she sent an email.
Luckily she didn't email Corporate, and sent it to the "Contact Us!" link on our webpage, which goes directly to me, my staff and the GM.
I don't have the email anymore because it was too long ago, but it was essentially the following:
I was rude and disrespectful. (Wasn't)
I didn't even TRY to help her. (Bitch, I had my engineer check EVERY minifridge in EVERY vacant room in hopes to find one that would get to freezing temperatures.)
I was condescending. (Nope)
I swore at her. (I swear. A lot. Just not at work.)
I purposefully spilled her breastmilk. (On myself?)
And I should be fired immediately! (Uh...)
Well because she already hated me, I knew contacting her back wasn't the right thing to do. So I asked my GM to handle the situation and explained why. It was a busy day, so I didn't get to speak with him for a while, but he already knew the story from my previous email to him. Later on, in between my (literal) running around, I ran in to him as I was jogging up the staircase from the executive offices.
Me: Did you get the email?
GM: Yep.
Me: You responded, right?
GM: I did. But I don't think she'll be staying with us again.
Me: So... I'm getting fired later, right?
GM: As long as you're aware.
Me: Well, it was a pleasure working for you.
GM: Yep. See you around.
And he never said another thing to me about it again.
Spoiler alert: I didn't get fired.
This weekend, I ran into a former coworker ("D") and her mom. I hadn't seen D in about 8 yrs, and I'd always liked her, so we spent a few min. chatting and catching up. D's mom was absorbed with her phone, but occasionally looked up at us and smiled or laughed--she seemed like a nice woman, complimented my purse, which my mom had sewn, etc. D had a couple kids since I last saw her, but we're FB friends, so I've seen some pics and updates. D asked me about my writing, and then her mom cut in, "oh, look at [basic baby name]! He's so adorable!" She thrust her phone at me. It was a kid in a high chair with food all over his face. "Do you have any kids?" she gushed. I said no, and D laughed and said no, too. She knows me. She's cool with it. D's mom said, "well, that's too bad. What do you do?" I said I travel, and work, and write, and she was just shaking her head. I reiterated I didn't want them, my life is great the way it is, and I said, "Thanks for your concern, but I'm fulfilled. I have a good life."
D's mom shook her head sadly again. "I know I don't know you, but I don't believe that. Life without children isn't a life worth living." (Like, she was reading off a refrigerator magnet or something!) D laughed again, "OK, mom, to each their own." I just shrugged and said I do fine, and now it's time to exit, stage left! I hugged D and said it was nice seeing her. Her mom said it was nice to meet me, and then had to add, "good luck with your life. I hope you don't end up a crazy cat lady." Oh, for fuck's sake... I mean, I'm allergic to cats. :)
D gave me an apologetic look as I walked away, and I'm sure the next few min. were spent calming her mom down. Damn, some people.
NPR has a must-read article and podcast entitled, "Should We Be Having Kids In The Age Of Climate Change?"
The ominous thesis is, most of the "green" things people are doing, and even the Paris climate accords, will do nothing to curtail rising global temperature and carbon emissions.
What will make a material difference? Peope birthing less humans. One fantastic idea from a researcher:
For the sticks part of the plan, Rieder proposes that richer nations do away with tax breaks for having children and actually penalize new parents. He says the penalty should be progressive, based on income, and could increase with each additional child.
Think of it like a carbon tax, on kids. He knows that sounds crazy.
"But children, in a kind of cold way of looking at it, are an externality," he says. "We as parents, we as family members, we get the good. And the world, the community, pays the cost."
Totally agree. Parental tax subsidies must end; these perverse incentives are both killing the planet and imposing costs on the most environmentally conscious, the childfree. You breeders birth it, yet the rest of the planet pays for it. And Earth can no longer afford the breeders' bills.
Most interesting was the math contained in a "Carbon Emissions" sidebar. I reproduce it here, and the numbers are stunning and frightening -- and confirm why reducing population and penalizing human breeding is the only way to save the planet:
Carbon Emissions, A Comparison
Below are a few examples of how much carbon dioxide (in metric tons) is saved over a lifetime (80 years) by a typical American for certain actions, including not having one child.
I must get this off my chest, my boyfriend and I both detest children and are proudly child-free. With that said, I must rant that there are some parents that are far worse than the children themselves.
Today I was in Shabasi's Judaica store in Baltimore and there was a child throwing a temper tantrum in front of the entire store. What did the parent do about it? Absolutely nothing! Just continued to shop like nothing is happening.
I work part-time at a pizza store while attending college full-time. I cannot tell you the horror of having a million kids running around in the store screaming their heads off while I'm on break trying to catch up on school work. Not to mention, the mess that kids make when they take far too much ketchup and neglect to close the refrigerator door.
Sometimes I think parents are worse than the actual kids!
I work in a grocery store, in the refrigerated/frozen section. This means I spend a fair amount of time in an industrial refrigerator, and let me tell you: those motherfuckers are LOUD. Four industrial sized refrigeration units going constantly, and the cooler shares a wall with the freezer, and THOSE machines are even louder. It's loud enough that the store-wide intercom system has a special unit inside the cooler just so that whoever's in there can hear, and a lot of the time it's still hard to make out what someone's saying.
And yet I can hear a screaming child on the far end of the store. Ladies and gentlemen, I shit you not. It is easier to hear the entitled whiny shrieking of whatever sugar hyped goblin is being trundled through the store than it is the damn PA system.
Parents, let me tell you a little something: you are doing no one any favors by letting this happen. If you let your kid scream like a tornado siren you are not only making yourself look like a shitty parent (which, at that point, you are) but you're doing your kid a disservice by not disciplining them.
My mom never spanked me that I can remember, but you can bet your ass I NEVER would've gone on wailing like these little banshees do once she laid down the law. Even when I was a goblin myself I knew better than that. Important Things were on the line. Things like dessert, playtime, even POWER RANGERS. There wasn't any need for physical punishment, the knowledge that she could keep me from wathching Teenagers With Attitudes fighting the forces of Rita Repulsa and Lord Zed was enough to keep me in line.
If your child is old enough to understand the words 'be quiet' there is no excuse for letting them disrupt the general public. If you have to, get them the fuck out of the store. It is the parents who let their spawn run wild that push people who are on the fence about being Childfree firmly into our camp, and people who are already Childfree straight into frothing rage.
TL;DR: Kids at work are loud as fuck and the whiny entitled parents (the same parents who raised the millenials they LOVE to complain about so much, wonder if there's a connection there /sarcasm) do nothing about it because 'THAT'S HOW KIDS AAAARRRREEE' and 'THERE'S NOTHING I CAN DOOOOOO'. Bullshit.
I landed my dream job in medical oncology in the town of Medford in Southern Oregon. The rental market is insane – with a vacancy rate of 1%. I was extremely lucky to find a 2 bedroom for just me – me alone. It’s a pretty little 1960’s duplex with wooden built in’s and an avocado green refrigerator...
After a disaster of relationship and moving on my own I am so very excited about my career and future.
Did I mention that my awesome little place is a duplex? It’s attached on one large wall with a 2 bedroom flat that mirrors mine, except for the wood floors.
My neighbors are a trashy-ish couple who have a 2 year old with more on the way (of course!). Since moving in, every evening from 5:30pm-10:30pm has been a cacophony of bangs, yells, cries, stomps, crashes and the like. I’m a woman pursuing a bachelors – I need some kind of quiet while writing bullshit papers. But NO – I’m not allowed because a pair of breeders allow their child to run rampant.
I would approach them myself, but I fear I’d get rebuffed (a family lived here before me and probably didn’t complain). I want to drop the hint to my landlord, but I don’t want to appear a complaining tenant.
I feel like I’m stuck….for now.
Because I have a plan for a bad-ass 60” flat screen, playstation gaming center with my next few paychecks that I will be mounting on our shared wall where I will be exploring Fallout 4 to my heart’s content. I dare them to knock on my door when I unleash a few dozen Fat Man’s or other mayhem.
I just felt the need to vent. I am so fucking tired of people with kids being so goddamned inconsiderate of their surroundings.
My friend and I decided to head out to a favorite local pizza place to grab a slice and just chill for a few. Nothing special, just enjoy some pizza on a Friday night. My friend has a stressful job and pizza is comfort food.
We enter the pizza place and within 3 minutes, a mom, dad and three kids all barrel thru the front door. Mom looks like shes been thru a spin cycle of emotions, so my blood pressure rises in anticipation of impending stress as if it were a bunch of drunken gang members ready to start something. But I calm down and ignore them.
As they all run their mouthes with simultaneous conversations, they buy their slices, sit down (at the table next to us, of course) and the trouble begins almost immediately. The two boys (approx. age 4) can't sit still and start to run amuck thru the establishment with their pizza slices. The girl gets up from her seat and proceeds to take soda out of the glass vending refrigerator without permission. Mom looks over and yells, telling her she can't have the soda, and the girl proceeds into full emotional meltdown (probably cry-fest #26 for the day.) For the next 10 minutes the entire establishment of people is interrupted by the yelling between mom and the defiant kid who now will not eat her pizza and will not put the soda back in the case. The young manager has no idea what to do about the situation but to just watch like every one else. The two boys are now repeatedly going outside and running back inside. Dad is sitting there, ignoring what's happening as if he had lost his jaded soul years ago. Eventually the family finished eating, pays and leaves, and things calm down.
Why do families like this feel like they have the God given right to disturb the peacefulness of public places? Why must we all share in the misery of their bad parenting and family distresses? There just seems to be zero embarrassment or common sense anymore with many parents in public places. I'm so sick of it.
So my (26f) boyfriend Paul (32m) and I are taking the steps to move in with each other in a place we can call our own. His boss, Jon, who is like a pseudo-father to him offered a "rent to buy" option on a smaller house that him and his wife, Carol have that was their first home together. Jon said that it was currently being rented out to a family on a month to month basis but that they hadn't paid rent in two months so he was giving them the boot and 30 days to move out.
My boyfriend and I talked it over and it sounded like a great opportunity. It's a small home in a good spot of town, 5 bedrooms (they're tiny and two are in a finished basement), large yard for our two- soon to be three fur babies, small in ground pool, detached garage with an office above it. Sounds like the dream for us to start our fur family.
So my boyfriend did a ride along to the house when his boss wanted to see if they had the rent money. Jon knocks on the door and the man answers and says it's been a rough two months because he got "locked up" and didn't have the money. Jon something along the lines of well, you owe me two months rent and you're out by the end of the month. He didn't get a good look inside but made the assumption that it probably wasn't great in there since they hadn't kept up the yard and didn't even open the pool.
Well, the end of the month comes and goes and Jon says that we can all go see the house. Jon and Carol met us there and when we walked in... The smell of stale cigarettes hit me in the face like a truck. Paul and I walk into the kitchen where there's still a pan of old grease on the stove top. There's grease splatters all over the front of the stove and the wall behind it, the refrigerator hadn't been emptied and good thing the electric was still on because there was a ton of shit in there. The inside of the fridge has dried food on the shelves. It looked like someone shook up a soda can and opened it in the fridge. The cabinets were gross and there was garbage and shit still in the drawers like Chinese food sauce packets, paper clips, fucking glitter... Just garbage.
We walk down the hall and the bathroom is gross... But okay because I was going to replace the bathtub anyway. We go into the bedrooms and there's crayon, marker, sharpie, LIPSTICK on the fucking walls... And someone spilled nail polish on the hard wood floor. Every room, including common rooms has nicotine stains on the ceilings.
The water was shut off so we couldn't flush the toilet or turn the sink on. (Side note: the other day I went to the mail box, which is smashed btw... Surprise surprise... To write "return to sender" on the mail... I saw the water bill and could see the "passed due" amount through the envelope and it's fucking $450. WHAT?! HOW?!)
We went downstairs and the smell of mold made us sick. None of the lights worked, the de-humidifier was broken, there was a dirty diaper and a mystery substance in the portal shower down there, there's nick nacks and garbage left behind. We found a child's flip flop, some toy cars and child barrettes on the floor... Marking all over the walls... Smoke detector covers off. Paul and I powdered the carpet the other day and vacuumed it up and I STILL smelled mold. He hacked at the carpet with a crow bar in the corner that I thought smelled the strongest and when the corner came up... Mold. Mold fucking everywhere. The carpet and the wood with the nails that stick up to hold it down.
Carol looked like she was going to cry. This was her and Jon's first house. We just stood there completely shocked. Everything has to get replaced or redone.
HOW can someone leave a house in this condition? Just, how? Apparently there was 5 children living there. How do they not all have chest and lung infections from the mold? I mean maybe they do, I don't know. Carol said they seemed like a great family when they moved in two years ago. No prior issues on their renters history. No red flags.
How can you let your kids just fucking destroy everything and how do you not clean up after them? These kids are going to grow up thinking it's okay to live like that and it's not. What the fuck you guys? How could they all as a "family" destroy a house that isn't theirs?
Needless to say, our plans to move in have been halted because Jon has to replace the carpets and paint the walls.
I don't even know what to think. I see the house for the potential. Once we get it back to working order, Paul and I can turn it into a "home" again but holy shit.
Tomorrow my best friend is coming over to help me smudge the house. The upstairs is okay but the energy downstairs is bad. As far as I know it's not a "person" or a spirit energy, it's more of a "something happened here like a domestic dispute or a child was hit" energy... And we can't have all of that.
I just needed to vent. I'm upset and I don't get it. I need a hug and like $10k. Paul and I don't have tons of money but we'd like to buy this house one day to make it ours but this is gonna take a lot of work and maybe 6-7 exorcisms. Haha.
Fuck.
I think I discovered today that I am CF. I think maybe I've known all along.
I just graduated from college, and some of my friends from high school stayed in our small town, got married, and are pregnant. I feel so distant from them now in every sense of the word, but I decided to attend a friend I'll call Mary's baby shower today to be a good sport.
The shower itself was beautifully done, but I felt SO out of place the entire time. Everyone was cooing over all of the gifts, the baby clothes and toys, and the older women were reminding the rest of us girls that soon this would be us. I was watching Mary open her presents and just COULD NOT understand why she was excited. Rationally, I was like OK, she's excited to have a baby, but to me she could have been opening up presents for her new refrigerator. I just could not get excited about it, and found the whole thing really boring.
Then we went outside and took photos. Girls were taking photos touching her belly, and were gushing about how they were SO excited to meet the little bundle, and when it came my time to take a photo with Mary, I elected NOT to touch her uterus. It was way too creepy. The whole thing just made me feel antsy, and I wanted to leave so bad.
I remember standing there, drinking my punch, feeling sad for these girls. Sad they were so incredibly excited about a stupid baby, sad that Mary was now going to be a boring mom forever living in our small town, and then I realized...why should I be sad? I don't HAVE to end up like them! I can move far away (which I'm planning on doing when I get a job out of state), pursue my hopes and dreams. I don't have to have 2.2 kids and a 3-bedroom house and a minivan and screaming infants and bratty rugrats. I can do whatever the hell I want with my life!
I'm FREE. I feel elated! I haven't told anyone, and I currently have no partner, but I'm holding this secret knowledge inside of me, and it's making me giddy.
Thanks Mary.
Once upon a time, 3-year-old Buttz wanted a baby doll for Christmas. So, Buttz's parents decide to buy her triplet dolls who are supposed to act like "real babies"--crying, peeing, the works. Buttz's parents also decided to be sadistic dickholes by not showing Buttz how to turn the dolls off. Nonstop crying/pissing ensues, for hours.
How does Buttz handle the situation? She throws those motherfuckers right in the refrigerator.
And that's how everyone realized I would not be great at motherhood.
An old friend of mine was attending a convention this weekend near my apartment. She, her boyfriend (an old friend of my wife), and her 2 year old daughter needed a place to stay because they couldn't afford a hotel room (go figure, 2 year old). We've been friends for almost a decade now and she's pretty much single-handedly responsible for me actually talking to my wife for the first time, and on top of that her kid is usually extremely well behaved so I was more than willing to oblige.
Friday and Saturday nights passed without incident, and the young one was a shining example of how a kid with parents who actually parent behaves. Last night, though, she let an entire weekend's accumulation of over-stimulation out all at once. Right around 9:30, cue a complete meltdown because the refrigerator magnets she was playing with (easy-to-replace dollar store ones, and too big to be a safety hazard for her so we didn't really care. It's also worth noting her parents proactively offered to replace any she lost) didn't stick together the way she wanted (Healthy lungs too, the little banshee). She finally calmed down for about 10 minutes, then flipped her shit again because she wanted to wear her Minnie Mouse pajamas and not her Merida pajamas. Not long after that storm she lost it yet again because she wanted orange juice.
I have no complaints against her parents (Rare in this sub, I know) and on the whole she was very well behaved up to her little shit fit, but it just goes to show that no matter how good the parents or how well-behaved the kid, sometimes they just throw all sense of rationality to the wind. As for me, I'm just looking forward to a nice quiet week with the wife and the cats, completely reaffirmed in my choice!
I think I may start having depression because of my neighbor's kid. I'm right below the kid's bedroom, and when they are home, it's practically non-stop noise. I don't know what this kid play with, seems like he has refrigerators as toys. I also have the chance to have bad parents as neighbors because their kid (3-4 years old?) is not sleeping before 10, 11 PM. I hear him at night sometimes.)
And I can't do anything, can't I? It's a child, you have to let him be a child! ... Seriously. Even if I complain to the parents, they can't do anything, the kid will continue, I'll have to complain again... and again... and again...
I'm enduring this kid for more than 3 years now. And I can't leave this place for another 2-3 years. Yay for depression, headaches, sleep deprivation... Hey, sounds like as if I'm having a child myself.
So, I'm marathon'ing Friends on Netflix right now and got to season 4 episode 17 "The One with Free Porn".
spoiler alert if you're 20 years behind on Friends
Phoebe finds out she's having triplets for them and meets Frank and Alice at the coffee shop. After she tells them, they're in a bit of shock. This is the part that hit me:
Frank: “I’ve been thinking, ever since you said we were gonna have triplets, the best thing for me to do is drop out of college and get a job.”
Phoebe: “No, you can’t quite college! Wait, you're in college?”
Frank: “Refrigerator college. When we found out that we we’re gonna have a baby I figured I should have, like, a career. And I love refrigerators!”
Phoebe: “You can’t give up on your dream!”
Frank: “No, it’s ok. We’re gonna have 3 kids. And, and that’s a different kind of dream. 3 kids and no money!”
I know they wanted a kid and were excited about it. And kudos to them for trying to stay positive in the face of such adversity, but this broke my heart and strengthened my childfree decision. To have to give up something like your education and planned future to get a menial job and feed 3 extra mouths... I never want to be in that situation (let alone pregnant with triplets. blech)
I know you didn't intend for it, Friends, but thank you for the reinforcement.
