#it's a threenager

[honey-and-fig]

If in your kindness you could pray for my little family, we’d appreciate it.

[dayslily]

HAPPY 4TH BIRTHDAY CHEVALIER!!!! i 🩷 my chevies forever

[hahaalaine]

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[foxtrot91]

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[yes-i-am-happyaspie]

I have two more sicktember one-shots to write.

I have to finish my 'Peter Parker trapped in a toddler's body' fic.

Then.

Then I'm going to start writing a biodad AU.

Unless.

Unless I come up with a really awesome winter/holiday fic to write first.

[professionallush]

Daughter lost her shit this morning when she turned on the light in the bathroom and it “didn’t make a noise.” Reader, it does not make a noise. Never has. She was crying real tears and stomping her feet like I had canceled Christmas.

[demareth]

man dude i was just telling my toddler that she couldnt take out her blocks because her sit n spin is taking up half of the floor already and she just goes "WHAT-ever! 😒😒"

and i was exactly this meme:

[guyofthing]

Was looking through my Fragments conversations document for something and I'd like to shout out threenagers. One of the stupidest running jokes I've ever incorporated in anything and I love it but I completely forgot about it. It was initially a reference to a YTP.

[crisp-ofhurricane]

Balloon

SHEA: ibu, mau balon gak?

ME: enggak, nak

SHEA: *disappointed* kenapa gak mau?

ME: karena ibu lagi gak mau main balon. Buat baby aja

SHEA: baby juga gak mau balon sih

ME: yaudah kita biarin aja ya biar balonnya istirahat

SHEA: haaah kok istirahat

SHEA: *ngedumel* balon gak istirahat. Dia gak punya mata.

[sorchathered]

My whole family is down with Covid and since my husband was the first to drop he’s off course feeling all better while I am slowly rotting away. All that to say listening to him argue in a stitch voice about how many chips our toddler can have is making me all mushy and grateful for his goofy ass. I 100% married a golden retriever in the body of a grown man. 😂

[thedensworld]

Gentle Daddy | C. Sc

Pairing: Scoups x reader

Genre: fluff, parent au

Summary: welcome aboard to the threenager stage of Seungcheol's son and how he parents him.

Seungcheol was seventeen when he met Chan, the youngest of their group. Was Chan a little brother? Yes. But at the start? Not quite. To Seungcheol, Chan was just another kid, someone he had to look after out of duty rather than choice.

As the oldest in their group, Seungcheol often became the subject of jokes about his strict ways. “Everyone, if you don’t wake up on three, I’ll give you 10 more laps of running,” Seungkwan teased, mimicking Seungcheol's commanding tone from their training days, complete with a mock-serious expression that drew laughter.

“Seungcheol hyung definitely needs someone gentle to balance that out,” Chan piped up with a cheeky grin. But before he could finish, Seungcheol raised an eyebrow and asked, “Balance what?”

Chan swallowed nervously, waving his hand dismissively as the others burst into laughter. “No, no, I was talking to myself,” he stammered.

But now, Seungcheol stood in a different scene, holding his three-year-old son, Wontae, on his arm during his birthday party. The house was filled with chatter and laughter, the kind only close friends could bring.

“Your interior is beautiful, Seungcheol. Come over and do mine next,” Jeonghan quipped, throwing a casual compliment with a hint of a request. Seungcheol rolled his eyes, scoffing.

“Appa did my room too!” Wontae beamed proudly at Jeonghan. Jeonghan’s features softened as he reached out and ruffled the boy’s hair. “Your appa is very talented, isn’t he?”

Seungcheol discovered his passion for interior design when he was searching online for the perfect nursery layout for Wontae. But nothing he found could match the vision in his mind. After discussing it with you, he decided to take matters into his own hands. Trips to the hardware store turned into projects that filled his weekends: crafting custom cabinets, building desks, and designing coffee tables.

In preparation for the party, Seungcheol went all out—rearranging furniture, painting walls, and adding small decorative touches that showcased his new hobby.

“It’s almost as good as Mingyu’s house,” Jeonghan said with a mischievous smirk. Seungcheol chuckled, nodding in agreement. “I think taking care of others did that to me. Just like how Mingyu took care of everything for us back in the day.”

“I want to get down,” Wontae said, squirming in his father’s arms. Seungcheol gently set him down, watching with a smile as his son darted over to Wonwoo, who was showing him a video game on his phone.

“He’s going to be three, wow!” Jeonghan remarked, shaking his head in disbelief. “It feels like just yesterday when I first held him.”

“How is it like?” Jeonghan asked, a rare tone of seriousness in his voice.

Seungcheol sighed, his lips curving into a soft smile. “Go get married and have one yourself,” he said playfully.

“Jeonghan’s getting married?” Your voice chimed in as you returned from putting Wonna, your four-month-old daughter, to sleep. Both Seungcheol and Jeonghan turned toward you. Seungcheol’s eyes softened as he reached for your waist, pulling you gently into his side.

“Is she asleep?” he asked, concern blending with affection. You nodded, resting a hand on his chest.

“Don’t listen to him,” Jeonghan interjected, rolling his eyes but unable to hide the smile tugging at his lips.

“I feel really bad that you’re going through all of this right after giving birth, just for his birthday party,” Jeonghan joked, glancing around at the well-decorated room. The party was being held the day after Seungcheol’s birthday, even though Wontae’s actual birthday was next week.

“I told you, it’s for Wontae!” Seungcheol insisted, his tone defensive but playful.

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Jeonghan, I gave birth four months ago. Besides, I’m grateful that Joshua and Mingyu helped with the food prep.” You nodded toward Joshua and Mingyu, who were now joined by Jihoon in the kitchen, scrubbing dishes and joking with each other.

Suddenly, a tiny voice interrupted the grown-up conversation. “Look what Uncle Hoshi got me! It’s a matching tiger onesie for me and Wonna!” Wontae announced proudly, holding up the tiny outfit with wide eyes full of excitement.

Seungcheol’s eyes flicked to Hoshi, who was now rolling on the floor, laughing at Wontae’s reaction. The older man couldn’t help but smirk, shaking his head.

You smiled and turned to Seungcheol. “I’ll go help him with his present,” you said, squeezing his arm before walking over to your son.

Jeonghan, still standing beside Seungcheol, gave him a knowing pat on the shoulder. “You know, it’s great you married Y/N. I never thought I’d see the day when the legendary Seungcheol, the training tyrant, would become the poster child for gentle parenting.”

Seungcheol scoffed, turning to Jeonghan with a mock glare. “A monster? Really? You’re one to talk,” he protested, crossing his arms but unable to suppress the grin threatening to break through.

Jeonghan just laughed, throwing his hands up in surrender. “Hey, I’m just stating the facts. Besides, we all know you wouldn’t be half as patient if it weren’t for her.”

Seungcheol glanced across the room where you were now helping Wontae into the tiger onesie, a soft smile crossing his face. The room buzzed with laughter and warmth, the chaos of their little family perfectly imperfect.

*

Seungcheol woke up a bit late this morning, the warm glow of the morning sun filtering through the curtains. A soft smile spread across his face as he took in the sight of his family already gathered at the dining table for breakfast. The sound of Wontae’s cheerful voice filled the room when he spotted his dad entering.

“Appa!” Wontae called out with excitement, his tiny hands waving eagerly. Seungcheol walked over and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of Wontae’s head before his eyes found Wonna, cradled in your arms, contentedly finishing her second bottle of the day.

“Wonna Wonna~ did you sleep well, my princess?” Seungcheol cooed, his heart melting at the sight of his daughter’s chubby cheeks. Wonna wriggled in your embrace, her eyes lighting up as she recognized her father’s voice.

“You had breakfast, love?” Seungcheol’s gaze shifted to you, his tone laced with concern. You shook your head with a soft smile. “I was waiting for you.”

He grinned, taking Wonna gently from your arms. “I’ll play with Wonna for a bit. Go have your breakfast.”

You nodded, appreciating his thoughtful gesture, and sat down to enjoy breakfast with Wontae. After some quality playtime with Wonna and tucking her back into her crib for a nap, Seungcheol returned to the dining room. By then, Wontae had retreated to his bedroom, engrossed in the toys his uncles had gifted him.

“Wontae loves Mingyu’s gift,” Seungcheol said with a chuckle, recalling how his son had immediately fallen in love with the plush corgi toy Mingyu had brought him. It was amusing how Wontae adored anything Mingyu gave, no matter what it was.

You laughed as you finished your meal. “Of course he does. He’s your son, after all. It makes sense he’d have a special bond with Mingyu.”

Seungcheol joined in your laughter, the sound warm and genuine. “Thanks, love,” he said when you placed a steaming bowl of rice and soup in front of him.

“Is your head still dizzy?” you asked, sitting beside him to keep him company while he ate.

He sighed, a touch of guilt crossing his features. “Not as much, but I really need to cut down on my drinking.” A rueful smile followed. “I still don’t get how you don’t drink at all—not even a beer.”

You smiled, amused by his amazement. “The last time I drank was before I got pregnant with Wontae,” you reminded him. Seungcheol’s eyes widened as the memory came rushing back—it had been at Joshua’s birthday party.

“Right!” he said, letting out a soft chuckle at the recollection.

Before he could say more, Wontae’s voice rang out, echoing through the hallway. “Eomma! Come here!” He came running into the dining room, eyes sparkling with excitement as he tugged at your hand, eager for you to join him in his room.

“How about we stay here and keep Appa company while he finishes eating?” you suggested gently, but Wontae shook his head, determination written all over his little face.

“No! I want to show you my drawing!” he insisted, practically bouncing on his feet. “Uncle Chan gave me crayons, and there are so many colors! Even five different blues!”

You exchanged a knowing look with Seungcheol, your heart swelling at Wontae’s joy. “Alright, let’s see your masterpiece,” you said, getting up and giving Seungcheol a reassuring smile before following your son.

Five minutes later, you returned to the dining room, barely suppressing your laughter. Seungcheol had just finished eating and looked up, curiosity piqued by your expression.

“You should see what he’s done in there,” you said, eyes twinkling with amusement.

Seungcheol raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “What did he do this time?”

“You need to see it for yourself,” you urged, playfully nudging him in the direction of Wontae’s room. “I’ll take care of the dishes.”

With a grin, Seungcheol pushed back his chair, eager to see what kind of adventure awaited him in his son’s room.

Seungcheol opened Wontae's room and was greeted by the sight of his son enthusiastically coloring in his new book, using the crayons Chan had gifted him. The vibrant hues danced across the pages, a mix of scribbles and childlike shapes. Wontae’s eyes lit up when he noticed his father standing at the door. He bounded over, grabbing Seungcheol’s hand and pulling him toward his little art corner.

“Look, Appa! I drew a rock!” Wontae exclaimed, pride beaming from his small face.

Seungcheol’s eyes followed Wontae’s pointing finger until they landed on the wall. Oh my god. There, on the freshly painted surface, was a child’s drawing—a colorful depiction of what was presumably a rock, sketched in bold crayon strokes.

He froze, processing the situation. So this was why you had insisted he see it for himself. He could practically hear the smile in your voice when you said it.

“You drew on the wall?” he asked, keeping his voice as steady as possible.

Wontae nodded innocently. “But Eomma said it’s better to draw on the coloring book, so now I draw here. But sometimes it gets boring, Appa!”

Seungcheol felt a wave of relief wash over him. So you caught him and told him to stop. Thank god.

He closed his eyes briefly, taking a deep breath to quell the frustration bubbling beneath the surface. Remember, Seungcheol, they don’t know better. They don’t understand how much work it is to paint a wall.

“Yes, your eomma is right. Drawing on your coloring book is best.” He sat down on the floor beside Wontae, the urge to scold replaced by the desire to guide. “Show me more of your drawings here.”

Wontae beamed at the invitation, plopping down next to his father and eagerly flipping through the pages of his coloring book. Seungcheol couldn’t help but smile as he watched his son’s eyes sparkle with excitement, oblivious to any worry or consequence.

Every time Seungcheol’s eyes strayed to the drawing on the wall, a chuckle escaped his lips. It was ridiculous! He wanted to be mad, really mad, but he just couldn’t muster it. “You know you shouldn’t draw on the wall, right?” he asked his son, carefully suppressing the instinct to say, “I just painted that! Why did you draw on it?!” in a booming voice that would only frighten the boy. He took a deep breath, holding back the frustration that threatened to spill out.

Wontae looked up at his father’s face, his eyes wide with curiosity as he noticed something unusual. “Why is your face red, Appa?” he asked, putting down his crayon and reaching up with his tiny hands to cup Seungcheol’s flushed cheeks. Seungcheol let out another soft chuckle, his anger melting further.

“You know Appa loves this house, right?” Seungcheol said, his tone remaining gentle and warm.

Wontae nodded, his little head bobbing earnestly.

“No one in this house draws on the walls because Appa worked hard to keep them nice and clean,” Seungcheol explained, still smiling softly despite the chaos inside him.

Wontae bit his lip, his eyes beginning to glisten with tears. “Are you mad at me for drawing on the wall?” His voice trembled as he spoke, and Seungcheol’s heart lurched. Panic surged through him—he was the one who felt like crying, not his son!

“I didn’t say I’m mad at you,” Seungcheol said quickly.

“But your face says it…” Wontae mumbled, the quiver in his voice growing more pronounced.

Oh no. Shit.

“Eommaaaa!” Wontae suddenly burst out, tears streaming down his cheeks as he ran toward you. Seungcheol’s eyes darted to the doorway where you were standing, suppressing a smile as you scooped up your tearful son into your arms.

“Why? What happened?” you asked Wontae in a whisper, stroking his back to soothe him.

“Your father wasn’t mad at you, was he?” you asked softly, glancing over at Seungcheol with a knowing smile. “Did he shout at you?” Wontae shook his head, hiccupping as he clung to your shoulder.

“No,” Wontae admitted, his sobs quieting as you continued to comfort him.

“He was just talking to you,” you reassured him, casting Seungcheol a gentle, supportive look.

Seungcheol groaned internally, a mix of confusion and self-reproach. He thought he’d nailed it—the gentle parenting that you both had worked so hard to practice. Yet here was his son, still able to sense the tension in his expression, and hurt by it despite the lack of yelling or scolding.

Seungcheol sighed, running a hand through his hair as he sat back on his heels. “We’re on this stage now,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

You glanced at him, raising a brow. “What stage?”

“The threenager stage,” Seungcheol said, his tone carrying both exasperation and amusement. “I read about it somewhere. It’s when kids start acting like teenagers—rebelling, pushing boundaries, testing their parents’ patience. Wontae’s only three, but he already knows how to push all my buttons.”

You laughed softly, shifting Wontae in your arms as his sniffles subsided. “It’s not rebellion, Seungcheol. It’s curiosity. He’s learning, exploring his emotions, and figuring out how far he can go.”

“Exploring his emotions by drawing on my freshly painted wall?” Seungcheol deadpanned, though a small smile tugged at his lips. He wasn’t truly upset anymore—not when Wontae was looking up at him with wide, apologetic eyes.

“Exactly,” you teased, setting Wontae back down on the floor. “It’s frustrating, but it’s normal. And you handled it really well, by the way.”

Seungcheol tilted his head, raising a skeptical brow. “I did?”

“Yes,” you said firmly, giving him an encouraging smile. “You didn’t yell or scare him. You explained things calmly. That’s the kind of parenting that sticks with them, Seungcheol. He’ll remember this.”

Seungcheol glanced at Wontae, who had returned to his coloring book but kept sneaking shy glances at his father. He felt a wave of warmth wash over him, mingled with pride and relief. I can do this, he thought. Even when it’s tough, I can do this.

“Okay, buddy,” Seungcheol said, crouching down to Wontae’s level. “Let’s make a deal. No more drawing on the walls, okay? If you want to draw something big, we’ll find some paper or maybe a special board just for you. How does that sound?”

Wontae’s face lit up at the idea. “A special board? Really?”

“Really,” Seungcheol promised, ruffling his son’s hair. “But only if you promise no more wall art.”

“I promise, Appa!” Wontae beamed, holding up his pinky. Seungcheol chuckled and locked his pinky with his son’s, sealing the deal.

You watched the exchange with a fond smile, stepping closer to place a hand on Seungcheol’s shoulder. “See? You’re doing great.”

Seungcheol exhaled deeply, his smile widening. “Thanks, love. I guess I just need to remember to breathe. And to hide all the crayons.”

You both laughed softly, and for a moment, the chaos felt a little more manageable.

*

"One… Two… Three…" Seungcheol’s voice was steady as he counted while Chan, drenched in sweat, gritted his teeth to finish his push-up set. His arms trembled, and his face was etched with exhaustion, but he pushed through, determined to complete the punishment.

The door to the practice room swung open, and the rest of the group filed in, their faces a mix of confusion and amusement as they took in the scene. Seungcheol stood towering over Chan, arms crossed, while the youngest member struggled through the exercise. It was a far cry from what anyone had expected when they read Seungcheol's early-morning text asking Chan to come to the practice room an hour ahead of schedule.

"What’s going on here?" Joshua asked, barely hiding his amusement as he watched Chan squirm on the floor.

"Ten!" Seungcheol finished his count, clapping his hands in exaggerated applause. He smirked as Chan collapsed onto the floor, utterly spent. "That’s ten sets done—one hundred push-ups. Congratulations, Chan. That’s what you get for giving my son those crayons."

Chan’s pout was instant. "It’s not fair! It’s your son who drew on the wall. Why am I the one getting punished?" His voice was full of indignation, though it lacked the energy to be truly effective.

Mingyu burst into laughter, doubling over as realization dawned. "Wait, wait—Wontae drew all over the wall with the crayons Chan gave him? That’s hilarious!" He clutched his sides, nearly toppling over from laughing so hard.

Jeonghan, leaning casually against the doorframe, nodded in mock agreement. "Honestly, it makes sense. Seungcheol’s a gentle appa with Wontae—there’s no way he’d punish his precious son for something like this." He shot Chan a teasing grin. "But you? Yeah, I’d do the same if I were Seungcheol."

Chan groaned dramatically, throwing an arm over his face. "This is so unfair!" he whined, his voice muffled. "I’m the innocent one here! Gentle appa is a fraud—he’s evil!"

Seungcheol couldn’t hold back his chuckle as he crouched down to look at Chan. "Gentle appa does exist," he said with a smirk, "but only for Wontae. You and your crayons? You’re a different story."

"See?" Jeonghan said, straightening up. "I told you. Seungcheol’s priorities are clear."

Chan sat up, still sulking. "Unfair. So unfair." He shot a glance at the others, hoping for sympathy, but all he got were amused grins and stifled laughter.

"Hey," Joshua added, chuckling softly, "at least now you know not to mess with Wontae’s creative genius—or his dad’s freshly painted walls."

Mingyu clapped Chan on the back, nearly knocking him over again. "Think of it as a lesson in self-sacrifice. You helped foster Wontae’s artistic side. That’s a win, right?"

Chan groaned louder, flopping onto the floor in defeat, while Seungcheol leaned against the wall with a triumphant grin. "Alright, everyone. Lesson’s over. Let’s get to practice before he starts crying for real."

"So unfair!"

[yes-i-am-happyaspie]

Just posted chapter 8 of Threenager! One more chapter to go!

While on patrol, Peter is struck by a spell that turns him into a toddler. Or mostly into a toddler. His memories, intellect, and experiences are still intact. Unfortunately, that makes being trapped in a toddler's body, with a toddler's motor skills that much harder. His legs are too short, and his fingers are too uncooperative. He can’t ride in the car without a super claustrophobic car seat. He can’t even wash his hands without help and it's all very frustrating. Between the teasing, Tony does his absolute best to help.

Part 76 of Tony Stark is a Good Mentor

[81pastrys]

hello i hope your doing well, i was hoping you could write something about lando with his little girl and hes doubting his abilities to care for her (i picture lando as a single dad so he dosent have much support) however when he reaches out for help his daughter only wants him and it reassures him that hes doing a good job.

Overwhelmed

Summary— Lando questions his ability to care for Lexie because he had her so young, but she proves him wrong in one day.

Warnings— mentions of adoption

A/N— I figured this was more a Lexie than a Lila

Dad Lando List

Lando’s ex springing that she was pregnant was something for itself, but what he didn’t expect was for her to give him sole custody of Lexie. He begged his mum to take custody, but she didn’t think that was a good idea.

Now Lexie is 3 and he really feels lost, the threenager phase was kicking his ass. He had a good load of work and his mum had her a lot now. His day off was nothing of the sort.

Lexie jumped on top of him, courtesy of sharing a bed in his mums house. “Daddy wake up!” She squealed at him. He woke up and smiled at her. He tickled her off of him and then they got ready for the day.

His mum would do all the girly things with her in the morning, like picking an outfit, doing her hair. She wouldn’t do it today not with him there. “Lexie why won’t you listen to Mimi?” Lando asked. She smiled up at him.

“Because daddy, you’re here.” He looked to his mum who melted at the comment. He helped her pick an outfit for the day and helped her get changed. Then she wanted him to do her hair ‘like he does his.’

“You want curls today?” He asked, he didn’t exactly know what she meant. She nodded and he used his hair products to get her curls perfect. “All done! Look at your beautiful hair.” He giggled with her in the mirror.

They ate breakfast and had a fun day just playing around the house. At the end of the day they did a movie night with everyone and Lexie was the last one to pick a spot. She hesitantly walked towards the couch and towards Lando.

“Come see, lex.” He grabbed her and she melted perfectly into his side. “I love you.” He whispered. She mumbled the same words back to him and he smiled.

Despite the amazing day he had with Lexie, he brought up having his mum adopt her. He was older now and really thought it through. “No.” His mum said flatly. “You got someone pregnant who didn’t want kids Lando, so you have to pay the price.” She explained for the millionth time.

“But mum, racing is hard with a toddler, I can’t do it on my own!” He whined to her. Lexie was sound asleep a few rooms over. “It would be so much easier if you just adopted her.”

“Lando, I told you no.” She said firm. Lando let out a heavy sigh. “She loves you, like I love you.” She said. Little feet pattered across the hall and made their way to Lando. Lexie held out her arms for him to hold her, accompanied by whines.

“Scary dream daddy.” She whined in his arms. His mum gave him a told you look and he sighed again. Out of anyone in the house, she ran to find him.

“It’s okay Lexie, let’s go back to bed yeah?” He said, walking back to his room. He laid in bed with her until they fell asleep. Maybe it wouldn’t be bad after all if she really did want him instead of anyone else.

Can’t beat a good dad Lando fic

@il0vereadingstuff

[itsbloomingwhims]

NEW SIMBLR!!

Sul Sul!

My name is Irene and I'm an italian simmer since 2000.

I love walking into the nature, animals (I'm veg), working out and drawing. I'm a co-owner of a tattoo shop with my husband and I'm learning to tattoo from him: it's very exciting!!

I'm a mom of a threenager :-)

I enjoy building and create story with my sims. I have another account where you can follow "The Stone Legacy" ---> @bloomingwhims

I started this blog where I'll post my Occult Legacy and some extra edited pics (I'm experimenting with Procreate)

I'm so excited to meet new ppl and learn from others.

My english is not good, but I'd love meet new simmers, so don't hesitate to reach out and say hi.

[nicnak20]

Time out:

*After a few struggles with his son's behavior, Nicholas realizes that stricter measures have to be taken to correct the problem- no matter how painful it will be for himself.*

If it wasn't the deep-set bags that hung from Nick's eyes, it was the worn out look his face had somehow melted into every day.

Lane, Nick's three-year-old was stuck in this newly formed cycle of his threenager stage. Constant yelling and screaming and kicking from throwing himself against the hard ground whenever there was something his eyes and mind were set on, but he was denied it. And it rattled something inside Nick whenever the words 'No' had to fall from his tongue. Like he was punishing Lane for something and his cries were mere proof of his failure at being a Dad.

So, Nick would just give in; a quick look into Lane's big chocolate brown eyes- anime styled they seemed- and give in. If it was chocolate he wanted, then he would get it. A new toy; another desert; another bedtime story. Lane would always get exactly what he wanted. Nick hated to admit that his young son had him wrapped around his little finger and there was no escape it seemed.

Nick could recall a particularly embarrassing grocery store experience; loud cries and hollers pierced into the air of the supermarket once Lane had wanted a very expensive toy. "No buddy, not today," Lane's bottom lip trembled, and his eyes grew wide and watery. "How about we pick out a cereal together, okay?" But Nick couldn't distract Lane- he couldn't pull himself out of the inevitable that would happen right in the aisle.

Onlookers stared and wondered what the fuss was about as the young father stood over Lane, trying to calm his fussy toddler down... and gain some composure himself. "Lane, please calm down....." he whined. But the cries continued. So.... Nick let Lane have the toy and they hurried their grocery trip along- checking out quickly and Nick rushing himself and Lane from the store, feeling the eyes of store goers on them as they headed out.

Nick wondered how long it would carry on this way. He loved Lane more than anything and seeing and hearing him cry was something so painful felt by Nick, that it made him weak against the boundaries he promised himself he would set for his child. Any plans he had went out the window whenever the thick of the moment would incase him in this snarling trap of guilt and fear. Fear of Lane not sharing the closely knit bond Nick worked so hard to develop with his little boy.

But as his behavior grew more destructive, Nick finally understood that something had to change.

It was a cool afternoon where Nick was busy sorting out bills and what needed to be paid or replaced, when Lane began one of his tantrums over his cold chocolate milk. Nick took a deep breath and confronted Lane. "Lane, Daddy will heat it up for you, but you need to ask nicely- not scream or yell."

Lane continued on, forcing Nick to ignore him. "Daddy doesn't pay attention to bad behavior." He reminded Lane again. So, Lane threw his cup on the floor, spilling the milk everywhere over the carpet.

"Okay..." Nick got up from the table and went over to Lane. Getting down to his level he looked him in the eye. "Lane... that is very unacceptable behavior. I want you to sit in timeout for awhile to think about that."

As Lane screamed and cried, Nick escorted him to his bedroom. He cleaned up the carpet of the mess trying hard to tune out Lane's upset from upstairs. His heart pounded and his breath was shaky from the intimidation of the walls that felt like they towered over him with a staunch glare. The deep heartache simmered inside of Nick like a broken bone. Hearing Lane's cries grow fainter and fainter, Nick felt a guilt wash over him even though he relaxed a bit.

But during the moment, he understood that while he needed to be firm with Lane, he also needed to be even firmer with himself. Giving himself a pat on the internally, Nick gathered up his sense of confident thoughts and marched up to Lane's bedroom.

"Lane," he closed the door behind him, "we need to talk." He sat down on the bed and stared into his son's red puffy eyes and listened to his little sniffles. "Do you know... why you went into timeout?" Lane slowly nodded. "Why?"

"Because.... because I was bad..." Nick slowly nodded his head.

"And does Daddy want you to be bad?" Lane shook his head. "Lane... you're a smart kid... you know what's right and wrong... and so... that's why it's so important at your age that you learn how to manage those big feelings. And it's okay to be upset and get angry.... but there's a right and a wrong way to respond. So... next time you get angry, talk to Daddy and we can work out something together, okay." Nick put a hand over Lane's cheek and looked into his eyes before pressing a long kiss to his forehead.

"Daddy loves you baby.... and I just want the best for you." Nick waited until Lane fell into his arms and Nick sat slowly rocking him.

All the pain, fear and worry of their relationship only drifted away as the feeling that took over was unconditional love. A feeling that was mutual.

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

Meghan doesn’t understand motherhood, child rearing or parenting - just look at her inability to answer questions, or her odd little comments and responses etc. She isn’t a hands on mom and it shows

I don't think she's an entirely absentee mother. True, maybe she isn't as hands-on as other working moms are, but she's still there with the kids. They do spend time together. (No kid is ever going to grab a random woman around her leg like Archie does in that one photo and no woman is going to let a random kid grab her like that either if there wasn't already a connection.)

That's the problem with using motherhood as your brand. Once it's your brand, it becomes your image so everything you do or say has to align to that image. And that's the disconnect I feel we see - that Meghan's expectations of what being a mom is or what parenting is don't match the reality she has so she exaggerates everything. Because no one wants to hear that your kid is an uncooperative threenager or that your kindergartener is basic as eff...but if your kid's first word was 'alligator' and his first sentence was 'stay hydrated!' or your kid looks just like her dead grandmother that the world once worshipped? That's the stuff.

Which is also a larger problem for social media - you only ever see the best days and the best moments and hear the best stories there. You're never going to see an influencer or a celebrity, and certainly not one as image-obsessed as Meghan is, post about how frustrating or annoying kids can be. In these stories, and in those photos or videos, Mom and the kids are always perfect while Dad's just the sidekick who's sometimes there, sometimes not.