#easy fold stroller

[kids-worldfun]

Essential Features to Look for in a Travel Stroller

When it comes to raising your little explorers, every parent knows the importance of having gear that makes travel easier and safer. Among the myriad choices that parents face, selecting the right stroller is crucial, especially for families on the go. Today, we will explore the essential features that every parent should consider when buying a travel stroller, ensuring both comfort and…

[hopethishelpsdotcom]

mistah is in cat stroller!! i definitely recommend this one!! i've had it since 2021 and the only issue i've ever had since then is sometimes the wheels get shaky if you're going over cobblestone or brick material, but other than that it's such great quality!! The cats love to nap in it around the house. You're also able to lock the wheels which is nice if you're sitting on an incline. I found that the clasp lock is sooo much easier than a zipper and so easy to get them in here

[clemmmmmmmmmmmmmm]

“My little love,Mama’s got a lot to learn.”

Batboys x single mum reader

My little love by Adele makes me cry every time now that i have kid.Because what if im doing this all wrong.Buttt enjoy!

Bruce Wayne

• At first, Bruce is hesitant — not about you, but about whether he could be a good father figure for your child.

• Once he commits, he commits. He’s suddenly funding your child’s education, upgrading their stroller to a literal tank and reading parenting books at 3AM.

• Surprisingly good at bedtime stories — his deep voice makes fairy tales sound like epic adventures.

• He sometimes slips and calls your kid “ours.” You pretend not to notice, but your heart definitely does.

⸻

Dick Grayson

• Dick loves kids — he’s the type to immediately crouch down to their level and ask their name.

• He’s the fun “stepdad” type — trampoline parks, baking cookies (he burns them), and choreographed dance parties.

• Teaches your kid acrobatics and ends up making them his little sidekick-in-training.

• Loves you fiercely and constantly reassures you that you’re not in this alone anymore.

⸻

Jason Todd

• Jason is surprisingly protective — he softens a lot around your child, even if he still gives off a rough exterior to the world.

• Reads your kid classic literature and gritty detective novels — he says they need “culture,” but he skips the violent parts.

• Carries juice boxes in his jacket like he’s carrying ammo. Snacks on one side, weapons on the other.

• He never talks about being a good role model, but shows up for every school event and parent-teacher conference without fail.

⸻

Tim Drake

• Tim overthinks everything — he googled “how to bond with children” the minute he found out you were a single mum.

• Gets overwhelmed at first but eventually becomes your kid’s favorite nerdy uncle-type. Teaches them coding, chess, and gives them supervised access to the Batcomputer.

• Sleep-deprived bonding moments — your child once woke up from a nightmare and found Tim already awake researching ways to help.

• You once caught them both asleep in front of a monitor, drooling onto a pile of LEGOs and snack wrappers.

Damian Wayne (Angsty Edition)

• When you first meet, Damian is distant. He’s polite — in that blunt, vaguely condescending way — but he keeps emotional distance from both you and your child.

• It’s not personal. He’s terrified of failing. Of becoming like his mother. Of inheriting the worst of both legacies and ruining a child that isn’t even his.

• He watches from the sidelines — his expression unreadable as your child laughs, clutches your hand, calls out to him with easy affection. Something tightens in his chest every time.

• One day, your child gets hurt. Not seriously — just a scraped knee, a tumble. But Damian’s reaction is instant and furious — with himself. He cradles them gently, whispering in Arabic, not realizing he’s shaking.

• He tries to push you away afterward. “They deserve someone better,” he says. “You both do.”

• But your child draws him a picture of “Dami, Mum, and me.” It’s crudely drawn — your child has given him a sword and a heart.

• He keeps the drawing folded in his wallet. No one knows it’s there.

• Damian doesn’t say “I love you” easily — but he shows it in quiet acts. Fixing your child’s broken toy with surgical precision. Standing watch outside their door during storms. Holding you in the quiet moments and asking, “Are you sure you want this? Me?”

• He eventually starts calling your child “my son” or “my daughter.” Quietly. Fiercely. As if daring the world to question it.

[sissybabycucksophia]

The Adult Baby Adoption Part 8

(This story is complete fiction and although i may desperately wish it isn’t, there is no fact or real world experience behind this story, and themes reflected in the story may be triggering, these themes are not my actual beliefs and are only part of a fantasy kink scenario. Also non of the images belong to me)

Cynthia’s eyes went straight to me—but she didn’t see James. She saw Malik. The “boy” in the school uniform. The one who wasn’t supposed to want ruffles or ribbons or princess prints. And now, thanks to Madeline, I was exactly what they expected: confused, unstable, and in need of correction.

Daddy’s face was unreadable—except for the way his jaw tensed. He looked down at “Jade” with this soft, protective expression, like she’d just handed him the truth wrapped in pink lace. His arm tightened around her like she belonged there. Like she always had.

Mommy stepped forward, arms folded. Her heels clicked across the floor, sharp and final. Her expression was cold, but satisfied.

“We’ve had problems with him before,” she said casually. “Touchy. Confused. You said it yourself—Malik isn’t settling into his role.”

I tried to speak. I needed to. But the scarf was still tight around my face, and even if I managed words, they’d come out muffled, desperate, and—worst of all—unbelievable.

“He said he wanted to wear the dress,” Madeline whispered from Daddy’s side, eyes wide with practiced innocence. “He asked me to switch. I didn’t know what to do…” She couldn’t even meet my eyes.

Cynthia stepped closer, tilting her head. Her voice stayed light, almost sympathetic. “That’s not very masculine behavior, Malik.”

I shook my head. My whole body burned with panic—but from the outside, I must’ve looked like a flustered boy caught doing something wrong. Everything about me screamed contradiction: the stiff uniform, the scarf half-hiding rhinestones on my cheek, the long lashes I hadn’t been able to wipe away.

“We’ll handle it,” Mommy said firmly. “If he’s not embracing his place, then clearly he needs a reminder.”

Daddy gave a soft sigh, brushing Madeline’s hair back behind her shoulder. “Some boys just need firmer guidance,” he said. “Don’t worry, Jade. You’re safe now.”

And just like that, the roles were sealed. The truth, buried beneath ribbons and lies. I wasn’t James anymore. I was Malik. The problem. The one who had to be fixed. And Madeline? She didn’t even flinch. With that Malik’s mommy would quickly pop out the room and return with an adult sized stroller, wheeling it toward me Mommy would open it up and then would shove me backwards into the seat, between my mittened and restrained hands I was powerless to stop her tightly fastening the harness across my chest. Once secured in Mommy begun to speak.

“I’m so sorry for all this,” she said to Daddy and Cynthia, giving them a prim little bow of her head. “You know how hard it’s been getting Malik to behave like a proper little gentleman.” Daddy nodded solemnly, holding “Jade” protectively close. Cynthia’s arms were crossed—but she was smiling. That tight-lipped kind of smile that meant she was enjoying this.

Then walking round to the handles of the stroller, mommy begun to push me towards the bedroom door. Was this it? Was I going to escape this hellish feminine nightmare I’d been living? I mean being a baby boy to mommy didn’t sound easy but at least it wasn’t…. It wasn’t dresses and makeup!!

“We’ll be on our way,” she said, gently pushing me in the chair. “I’ll have a long talk with him when we get home. Won’t we, Malik?” I didn’t say anything. Couldn’t. My heart was pounding so hard it drowned out every thought. I was so close. The hallway stretched out just ahead—an open door, a final chance. My fingers twitched in my thick mittens. One more step. One. And then— “Wait.” Cynthia’s voice cut through the air like a wire snapping. “Before you go… something’s been bothering me.”

Mommy paused stopping my stroller in its tracks. “Yes?” she asked politely. Cynthia stepped forward, slowly, heels clicking with purpose now. Her eyes landed on me. “Take off that cap for a moment, would you?” Cynthia asked my new mommy. My stomach dropped. “I… I—”

But she was already reaching. Before I could react, her fingers plucked the cap from my head—too fast, too smooth—and in that moment, the room went quiet. Too quiet. Then Cynthia’s hand reached for the scarf. “No,” I breathed, panic rising. “Wait—” With one tug, the scarf came free. The rhinestones. The glitter. The painted heart. And the look on Cynthia’s face? Smug. Like a cat that had been playing with its prey the whole time. “Thought so.”

At first, Daddy just stood there, staring. His arms were still around her, cradling her like she was something precious. Madeline—still dressed as me—blinked up at him with wide, painted eyes, waiting for his protection like she had any right to it. Then I saw it. The change. The way his smile faded—not slowly, but all at once. Like a switch had flipped behind his eyes and something warm had gone cold.

He unwrapped his arms from her shoulders. Not gently. No, forcefully Daddy would shove Madeline backwards off of him. I watched in shock as she stumbled backwards “You think I didn’t know?” he said, his voice low. Controlled. Dangerous. Madeline froze. The color drained from her face. “You thought I couldn’t tell the difference between a BOY and my daughter?” Her lips parted, but nothing came out. “You’re not my daughter,” he said, loud enough to cut the air. “You’re just a stupid, selfish little boy who thought he could play dress-up and fool us all.” He took a step back from her, like she’d soiled something sacred.

“Get my daughter’s clothes off at once you disgusting little pervert!” The silence that followed felt like a crack in the floor waiting to swallow her whole. Madeline didn’t move. Not yet. And for the first time since the switch began—I saw the fear in her eyes. And with that Mommy would furiously grip my cheeks in a vice grip, “I bet you were just as excited by the possibility of lying to us!! Your not my little man! Heck your not even a man! Get my sons clothes off this instant you weak little beta girl!” Mommy growled as she undid the strollers straps across my chest and lifted me out of the stroller. Aggressively dropping me on the bedroom floor she demanded “get all my sons things off NOW!!” Baffled and embarrassed I had to move past my sheer heartbreak that the swap hadn’t worked in order to say “Mommy I can’t… these restraints and mittens? How can I undress myself?” Which came out in a most pathetic whimper.

“Dont give me your excuses you lying little deceiving girl! Get it all off now!?” Mommy grunted as she stood hands ok hips looking down at me. Feeling a deep sense of dread and discomfort I was forced to try to escape my restraints and mittens, and boy did I try! Terrified that mommy might hurt me if I didn’t somehow escape I tried furiously struggling, my struggle was so frantic I was completely oblivious to Madeline having obediently gotten completely undressed and even refitting her wet and thick blue camo diaper. I would startle as Madeline approached and begun undoing the restraints with a look of hopeless defeat on her face. As Madeline stripped her boy clothes from my body, my girl pink nails and locked on princess diapers would become visible. Once both fully stripped Daddy would approach me wig in hand and would replace the long brown locks with their fringe and face framing strands back on my head, destroying any smidge of masculinity I may have gotten back.

I barely had a second to breathe before Cynthia appeared, holding something obscene in her arms — a gleaming mass of pink satin, the puffed sleeves and frills already making my stomach turn. Daddy took it from her with a grim set to his jaw, not the warmth he usually pretended to have — no, this was different. This was disappointment.

“Turn around,” he ordered, voice clipped.

My body moved before I even thought about it — some pathetic reflex. I faced the vanity, seeing my reflection — the pink princess diaper bulging embarrassingly between my thighs, the glittering nails, the heavy makeup that looked even more ridiculous with my flushed, ashamed face.

Daddy didn’t say much as he manhandled the romper into place, the heavy satin slithering against my bare arms. His hands were firm, almost mechanical, as he guided my limbs through the short puffed sleeves—just past my shoulders where the elastic cinched snugly against my upper arms with a frilly ring of lace. I felt like a doll being redressed after misbehaving.

The fabric swished and whispered as Daddy pulled the romper up around me, tugging it over my heavily padded crotch where my locked plastic panties strained against the thick princess diaper. I heard the faint, inevitable crinkle underneath as he worked.

“Hold still,” Daddy muttered, voice low with disappointment. I dared to glance at his face in the mirror—he wasn’t angry. Worse. He was disappointed. Like I’d failed him somehow. Like I had chosen wrong.

I bit my lip and stared straight ahead as Daddy guided the back zipper up with a single swift pull. I felt the satin close in around me, trapping me in the shimmering pink shell. My waist was pulled even tighter as he tied the wide satin sash into a big, fluttery bow at the small of my back. I swallowed hard at the sound of the bow being yanked snug—the final touch that locked me into place.

Then Daddy bent down and lifted one bootie—pink satin trimmed with elastic lace—sliding it up over my socked foot and tightening the little bow at the ankle. Then the next. He tugged the booties on firmly, securing them just as he had everything else, as if making sure no part of me could look normal again.

I flexed my feet inside the silky booties, feeling how they swallowed my steps, turning any thought of movement into soft, clumsy waddling. Between the puffed shoulders, the drawn-in waist, the helpless booties, and the way the romper hung loose and heavy off my small frame… I didn’t just feel like a baby girl. I looked like one.

Across the room, I saw Malik—no, Madeline—being re-dressed too, wriggling uncomfortably as Mommy forced her back into the humiliating boy’s uniform. She wasn’t fighting. But she wasn’t smiling either.

I turned my eyes away quickly, heart twisting. After everything, after the plan, she hadn’t even hesitated to throw me under the bus. I’d trusted her. And she’d left me to face the music alone.

And now here I was. Dressed up again, pinned in satin and lace, standing in Daddy’s shadow. Waiting for whatever came next.

Before I could even take a breath to steel myself, I saw Cynthia moving toward the dresser with that smug little smile she always wore when she was about to make things worse. She rummaged for a moment before pulling something out—something pink and horrifyingly frilly, a bundle of satin and lace that made my stomach twist the moment I saw it.

A bonnet.

Not just any bonnet, either—it was massive, a towering cloud of ruffles and bows, the sort of thing you’d see on a porcelain doll from some sick fantasy. The satin shimmered under the room’s lights, and tiny little bells stitched to the back twinkled softly as Cynthia brought it over to Daddy with a gleam in her eye.

“I think our little runaway needs something extra to remind her what she really is,” Cynthia purred, offering it up.

Daddy didn’t hesitate. He plucked the bonnet from her hands, came over to me, and before I could even think of protesting, he was lowering it onto my head. The thick satin hugged around the wig he had forced back onto my scalp, and the ruffles swallowed my vision, blocking out the sides of the room. I whimpered as I felt him tighten the thick, silky ties under my chin into an unforgiving knot, trapping the ridiculous thing on my head.

“There,” Daddy said quietly, voice heavy with disappointment. “Much better. Now everyone will know what a silly, helpless little girl you are.”

The bells gave a pathetic jingle as I flinched, my cheeks burning with shame. I could feel the bonnet bouncing with every tiny movement, as if it were mocking me—every jingle another reminder that no matter how badly I had wanted out, no matter how close I thought I’d come, I’d been caught and dragged right back where they thought I belonged. Pinned under lace, ruffles, and their expectations. And worst of all… deep down, I knew there was no point in fighting anymore.

I could barely move without the endless whisper and rustle of satin surrounding me. Every step made the oversized romper and booties swish and crinkle, a soft, humiliating soundtrack to my helplessness. My hands, swallowed up by enormous puffy satin mittens, dangled uselessly at my sides, unable to hide my shame. The thick bonnet framed my vision in ruffles, tugging at my scalp whenever I tried to turn my head.

Daddy gave the bonnet’s ribbons one last sharp tug, cinching it under my chin until the bells at the back jingled with every shallow breath.

“Come on now, sweetheart,” he said, voice sweet but thick with disappointment. “We wouldn’t want to be rude to our guests, would we?”

I lowered my eyes, my cheeks burning, and gave a tiny shake of my head, the movement stiff and awkward.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of Malik—Madeline—being buckled into the adult-sized stroller by her Mommy. But she wasn’t the puffy, frilly doll I’d glimpsed before. No, Mommy had forced her back into the sharp, structured little boy’s uniform: dark blue blazer, neatly pressed shorts, navy cap yanked down over her shorn hair, socks pulled up to her knees. She looked stiff, miserable, her delicate features clashing painfully with the harsh masculine outfit.

My chest twisted painfully as I watched. She had tried to save herself. Thrown me under the bus. And it hadn’t saved her after all.

Daddy and Cynthia each took one of my mittened hands, leading me toward the front hallway with soft, humiliating coos, like they were presenting me as the grand finale of some awful parade. My booted feet squeaked on the polished wood, the bulky diaper between my legs forcing a slow, waddling shuffle I couldn’t hide.

The stroller’s wheels creaked as Mommy adjusted Madeline’s cap, pushing it down low so that her buzzed hairline peeked out, as if to rub in the humiliation.

The front door swung open, and morning sunlight spilled into the hallway. I tried instinctively to shield my face, but the mittens made it impossible—I could only stand there, trembling, helpless.

Daddy led me out into the wide marble hallway just outside the penthouse door, my booties squeaking softly against the polished floors with every awkward, waddling step. Cynthia followed, holding the door open behind us with a sweet but mocking smile. Mommy wheeled Madeline—no, Malik now—in the stroller right alongside, the wheels rattling faintly against the luxury carpet runner.

For a moment, all four adults lingered there at the doorway, exchanging polite smiles, like they were just neighbors chatting casually instead of trading control of humiliated, broken toys.

“I really am so sorry,” Mommy said with a tight laugh, adjusting Malik’s little cap as she spoke. “You know how stubborn boys can be at this age. Always getting silly ideas.”

Daddy chuckled under his breath, but there was a hard edge to it. “Oh, believe me, we understand. Our little princess got a few silly ideas herself today, didn’t she?” He tightened his grip on my mittened hand, making the bells on my bonnet jingle softly.

Cynthia laughed airily. “It’s sweet, really. They both thought they could be anything they wanted.” She bent down slightly, brushing a lock of hair off my forehead in a mockingly tender gesture. “But little ones like these… they need firm guidance. Otherwise, who knows what kind of mess they’d get themselves into?”

Mommy nodded in agreement, giving the stroller’s handle a firm push. “Well, we’ll be sure to get our little man back on track. I promise he’ll behave next time.”

Daddy smiled tightly. “And our princess will be reminded of her place, too.”

There was a brief, awful moment where all the adults shared a knowing look over our heads, like we weren’t even standing there. Like we were just badly-behaved dolls to be dressed, corrected, and displayed as needed.

Finally, Mommy gave a little wave and started pushing the stroller down the hall toward the private elevator. Malik slumped in the seat, cheeks red, blazer stiff against her small frame, looking every inch the miserable little schoolboy she was being forced to be.

I watched helplessly, feeling Daddy’s and Cynthia’s hands resting heavily on my shoulders, keeping me rooted there at the penthouse door.

“Wave goodbye, sweetheart,” Daddy said, his voice pitched loud and bright, like he was talking to a toddler. “Be a good girl now.”

I hesitated—just a second too long—and Daddy leaned in closer, squeezing my shoulder meaningfully.

Swallowing my pride, I lifted my thickly-mittened hand and gave a clumsy, floppy wave toward Malik and Mommy as they retreated toward the elevator. The bells at the back of my bonnet jingled with every pathetic motion.

Cynthia giggled softly beside me. “Such a polite little princess,” she cooed.

The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime. Mommy pushed Malik inside without another glance.

And then they were gone.

The doors slid shut with a smooth, final thunk — cutting off the only other soul who had ever understood even a sliver of what I was feeling.

And I was alone again.

Alone, in Daddy’s world.

Alone, wrapped in pink satin and shame.

Exactly where they thought I belonged.

[dfortrafalgar]

I'm Losing You... (But We're Filling the Cracks)

Having a family isn't always as easy as fairy tales make it seem. But sometimes, you just need a little bit of love... and a little bit of science.

Warnings: read chapter 1 for warnings.

Taglist: @phsycochan | @mirillua | @augustanna | @chaixsherlock | @whore-of-many-hot-men | @nerdisthenewcool | @lilypadmomentum | @1dkneo | @kitsunechan707

Chapter 29

[Prev] [Next]

The last thing you and Law were able to fully enjoy together to prepare for the arrival of your babies was setting up the nursery in the second bedroom, after having your friends assist with clearing it out and cleaning up the carpet, that was.  Once completed, Law was now hunkered down to a strict schedule of meetings with almost hundreds of people in preparation for the biggest, longest, and most daunting surgery of his life.

But prior to that, he was able to spend an entire day with you, putting together cribs, assembling toys, installing two small dresser sets and changing tables, and organizing all of the baby clothing and supplies you received from your generous friends.  You had never seen Law more delighted, except maybe on your wedding day.  The way he carefully assembled one of the mobiles and hung it delicately over the top of one of the cribs brought a warm smile to your face.  As the days grew closer and closer, the thought of Law holding your babies made your heart flutter more and more.

The room was much smaller than your master bedroom, but it still had ample room as a nursery for two babies.  You had taken the opportunity (thanks in part to your lenient lease) to paint both of the walls a simple, muted mint-green color, calming to the eyes and yet still allowing the room to glow with light when the blinds were open.  Law had even bought a paper trim decorated with animal prints to place on the highest points of the wall, surrounding the corner where it touched the ceiling.  Both cribs were situated in opposite corners of the room, separated by a small window.  At the ends of both cribs sat their small dressers where their respective clothing, bedding, and supplies were stored, and above the dressers sat their changing tables and changing mats.  The rest of the room was dedicated to storing their plethora of toys until they were old enough to begin playing and exploring their world.  In your kitchen, two high chairs were placed against the wall, ready to be used at your table.  Two car seats with sturdy handles and foldable sun covers were ready and waiting in your extra closet, along with the folded up double stroller.  In your bathroom, Law had installed a small additional storage container for you to keep your unused breastfeeding supplies in, which he insisted on sterilizing three times a week despite not being touched yet.  Everything was ready to go, now the only thing left to do was wait.

But now, Law was spending more and more time at the hospital, which you completely understood, but that he lamented over.  Before he left every single day, and the second he returned home from however long his shift was, he kissed you on the lips before traveling down and planting two tender kisses against your bump.  The bump of which had become quite the hindrance as you approached the 36 week mark.  You were at 34 now, and according to Robin, your twins’ organs were fully developed and they’d be able to breathe on their own once born… whenever that was.

And while you were happy to have made it to 34, overjoyed even, the Braxton Hicks contractions were incredibly annoying.

“They are not indicative of labor,” your doctor had said.  “Trust me, you’ll know when your contractions go from false alarms to actual labor.”

You took her word for it.  But that didn’t make the 30 second increments of sudden cramping rippling across your belly at all hours of the day any better.  Sometimes, the pain would subside for an hour or two before coming back in full.  And they weren’t agonizingly painful, but they were prevalent enough that it was near impossible to ignore them.

While Law was at work more and more frequently in preparation for the surgery, Shachi and Penguin basically moved in with you.  They were walking Bepo, feeding Bepo, playing with Bepo, kissing Bepo, all while you were laying on your couch like a log.  A log with a huge belly and spontaneous Braxton Hicks contractions.

“What does Mama want?” Penguin asked from your kitchen, rifling through your pantry.

“Please don’t call me ‘Mama,’” you groaned.  It was endearing when Law did it, and very awkward when anyone else did.

“Got it.  What does the fat woman on the couch want?” he called back.

“Don’t make me come over there and stab you,” you yelled.  “I’m cranky enough as it is.”

Shachi emerged from the bathroom down the hall.  “Penguin quit bugging her.  That’s my job.”

“You guys are going to make me deliver early,” you snipped.

“Give the poor woman some food,” Shachi demanded, driving a harsh spank against Penguin’s ass through the man’s cargo shorts, resulting in a high-pitched yelp.  That finally forced a smile to break out on your face.

“I’m glad to see you two finally came to your senses,” you chided, trying to push yourself up against the armrest of your couch where a pillow was situated against your back to support you.  “What’s it like having graduated from roommates to sex?”

“It’s the exact same, but way hotter,” Shachi replied with a mischievous, toothy smile.

“Okay, I’m sorry for calling you fat, please stop talking about my sex with this lunatic,” Penguin groaned, emerging from your pantry with a few unopened boxes of pasta while you and Shachi giggled over his modesty.  “How does a simple baked ziti sound?”

You moaned from the couch.  “That sounds heavenly.”

Shachi left the kitchen to enter the main living space with you, sitting on the floor with his legs spread and allowing Bepo to crawl onto his lap.  “Nervous?” he asked, looking up at you.

Your hands soothed over your belly as another false contraction rippled through you in waves.  “More than nervous.  But I’ve been trying not to think about it.  I’m worried that too much stress will induce labor.”  After a brief pause, you added, “I’m worried that everything out of the ordinary will induce labor.”

The redhead hummed beside you, idly stroking the soft fur of Bepo’s head as the dog began to fall asleep on his lap.  “Do you have a hospital bag packed?”

You nodded.  “Law packed one for me a week ago.  It has all of our stuff in it… it’s pretty heavy.  He said, ‘If anything happens while I’m away and you have to go into L&D, have either Shachi or Penguin take this to the hospital.’”

“What’s ‘L&D’?” asked Penguin from the kitchen as he dumped two boxes of pasta into a large pot of boiling water.

“Labor and Delivery,” you clarified.  “We’re all assuming a lot of this is going to be spontaneous, so there’s no real indication of when I’ll have to go in because… well, we don’t know when I’ll give birth,” you explained.  “Most moms with one baby give birth at around 40 weeks, give or take.  But with twins, the average is apparently 36.  And I’m at 34.”

Shachi whistled through his lips.  “So it really could be at any moment.”

“Great time for Law to have to replace a man’s organs, huh?” Penguin piped up from the kitchen.

You laughed.  “The timing couldn’t have been better!”

The smell of baked ziti very slowly began to permeate your apartment as Penguin cooked, Shachi doted on Bepo, and you lounged on the couch, standing intermittently to continue to stretch your legs.  The contractions didn’t stop, if anything they increased in frequency as time slowly ticked away.  And every once in a while, one of your babies would kick against your muscle.

—

Law was fighting with every fiber in his body to stay awake.  He was leading his surgical team, for crying out loud.  He needed to be front and center for this meeting.  He drove the tip of his pencil through his pant leg into the flesh of his thigh to snap him out of his dozed state.  God, he needed coffee.

At the front of the conference room, directly in front of where Law sat, was the head of the hospital’s Transplant Transport team, which Law’s team joked was a very humorous name.  He was quite a stocky older man with a distended belly that barely fit into the gray dress shirt he had tucked into his slacks.  He was going through an itinerary on a pulled-down projector screen.  

“The patient, to remind those of you who just arrived, is a 51 year old man with a history of cardiopulmonary failure.  He has had two open heart surgeries in the past, and suffered a collapsed lung in his youth.  Both he and his family have been willing to try every treatment possible, and that is why we are meeting here today.  As far as I am aware, this hospital has never performed a double heart-lung transplant before, am I correct?”  He turned his attention to Law, who crossed on leg over his knee, asking silently for the lead surgeon’s approval.

“Correct,” Law affirmed, nodding his head.

“Dr. Trafalgar, would you mind walking your team through the procedure step-by-step?” the man asked, stepping aside to allow Law room to stand up in front of the packed conference room.

With a silenced grunt, Law stood up and smoothed his white doctor’s coat over his chest.  He took a deep breath and turned to face the room.  In front of him, every seat at the table and scattered chairs against the wall were filled by his surgery team, ICU nurses and doctors, hospital technicians involved with the case, and members of the Transplant Transport team.  “The surgery is scheduled to begin at 8:00 AM on May 12th.  That morning, a helicopter will be arriving with the heart and lungs from the donor patient, where they will then be transported by the transplant team to our operating room and hooked up to an artificial body where they’ll be kept living while we remove the damaged tissue from our recipient.  A coronary bypass machine will be used to keep the patient alive while his organs are removed and replaced.  This is the simple explanation, whenever everyone’s ready, I will begin discussing the more heavy aspects of the procedure.”

A few nods and curt words of consent were shared amongst the room.  Law took a deep breath and began speaking once more.

—

You were sitting naked on your bed, having just gotten out of the shower, when your phone started buzzing on your bedside table.  Your husband’s name popped up, immediately making you smile.

“Hey, baby!” you called into the receiver.  “How’d the presentation meeting go?”

A long, pent up sigh was heard through the speaker, making your heart pang with sympathy.  [About as good as it could’ve.  It’s hard explaining a 15 hour surgery to a group of 50-some-odd people.]

“Do you think your team is ready for it?” you asked, using one hand to slather moisturizing lotion onto your knees and calves.

[I think so.  I mean, I damn hope so.  I’ve had a lot of my nurses and team members review the same materials I’ve been studying to make sure everyone is on the same page.  As the day gets closer, I’m having my assistants complete simulated operations on their down time.]

“You can do that?”

[It’s a teaching hospital, we’ve got plenty of equipment.]

You grinned, dropping your legs and falling backward onto your bed, rubbing your belly with one hand while your other held your phone to your ear.  “Well, that’s good.”

Law’s voice hummed in agreement.  You heard him take another deep breath.  [I miss you.]

A part of you wanted to joke that he was only about five minutes away, but you knew what he meant.  He was missing the last few weeks of your pregnancy, something he had wanted to avoid since the two of you started trying for a baby.  It was vital to him that he was there to support you, to protect you, but once again, he wasn’t.  He was kept away from you by his taxing job, a job that he loved with a deep passion, but one that fought with his unwavering commitment to you.

Instead of commenting something witty in response, you replied with, “I know… I do too.”  A thought came into your mind, something you had read earlier in the day while your friends were out with your dog.  “Hey… Law?”

[Yeah, baby?]

“I know it’s hard to ask this over the phone but… I read online that parents with twins are more likely to suffer relationship breakdown.”

Law seemed to know what you were alluding to immediately, even without you having to explicitly state your worry.  [Remember everything I’ve been telling you?  About how much I love you and how that’s not going to change at any point?]

A smile tugged to your lips.  “Yeah…”

[Relationships break down because of stress.  But we’re good at working things out together.  We jump through hurdles at the same time because we communicate and we love each other.  That’s not going to change with babies.  Even with two new mouths to feed instead of one.]

“Your words always help me feel better,” you sighed into the receiver.  “I love you.”

[Get some rest, sleeping beauty.  I love you, too, always.]

—

34 weeks turned into 35.

The waiting was starting to take years off of your life, you thought.

Shachi and Penguin had bunked up in your living room.  You only saw your husband about three times while he prepared religiously for the operation.

Somewhere at another hospital, a comatose man was being prepped and signed off to be removed from life support and have his organs harvested.  And ten minutes from your apartment, a middle-aged man with his own family was getting ready to receive them.

And you were carrying two babies in your womb.  Two babies who, according to your very last ultrasound, were both facing head-first toward your cervix.  It was looking like a completely natural birth would be possible, as long as no complications arose in the moment.

Hopefully, according to your latest health workup, everything would be fine.  Your blood pressure had remained steady throughout your pregnancy, all of your blood panel conditions had been very healthy.  Your body felt ready, if the constant Braxton Hicks contractions were anything to go off of.

It was just.  The.  Waiting.

Your journal was almost completed.  You only had two more pages before your prompts switched to journaling the post-birthing experience.

You uncapped your pen and began writing.

[play-rough]

Headcanon so specific and yet so likely to be actively contradicted it’s more of a theory waiting to be confirmed or rebuked-

So I’ve yapped in the past about Chuuya and Kunikida’s different caregiving styles, I thought today while I was walking through a field about how they’d transport Dazai around when he’s too small to walk. Chuuya would definitely be happy to just carry him everywhere because that’s where the baby prefers to be, and unless they’re out for hours I don’t see him thinking it’s unreasonable to just carry him everywhere-

But that’s not very practical, so Kunikida wouldn’t do that. His main choice of transportation is a stroller- a forward facing or reversible one (so Dazai can see him at all times 😢) and while Mackerel complains, he doesn’t kick too much of a fuss about it because Kida’s preferred mode of Dazai-transport is a baby sling (supports and holds the thighs up so the feet don’t dangle too far down-) that he bought because he thought it would be an easy solution to the impracticality of carrying Mackerel everywhere- but Dazai hates it because, and this is a hc I hold quite dear to my heart, now that he has older brothers he looks up to- Dazai is very particular about certain things that make him seem ‘Too Little’. From his line of logic, being carried everywhere is fine, but a baby sling is far too babyish. Having a crib is just about acceptable, and sleeping in Kunikida’s room is the goal (he’s so mean for rarely making any exceptions) but having his crib in the same room as his caregiver is outrageous! Only REALLY little babies have their crib in the same room as their caregiver!

And yeah, if you get Dazai while he’s sleepy enough and tiny enough, he’ll actually love the sling, but he’d never let it happen otherwise, so pram he goes.

Christ this is a long one. All that just to say grumpy Dazai in his pushchair.

-🍓

I hope it’s ok if I put these two-in-one because even though Chuuya bought the stroller, he does just prefer to carry babyzai. Stroller was kind of thrown in relatively last minute because I think it would be useful in future fics for other ideas (i have a vision of babyzai at the aquarium getting pushed around) and even though Chuuya technically bought the stroller, I really like and agree with ur message andnskdjdjks I’m so here for Dazai trying to be older now that there’s older kids to play with, he does already associate older littles with being less needy. It’s not that Dazai dislikes these things, but he knows it makes him take up more time and he knows it’s more intense care than the other two receive, makes the poor baby really self conscious

I think because Chuuya knows Dazai on that deep level he knows that baby is just always going to be most comfortable being held, easiest way to keep him happy. They really only do the stroller if they’re going on an all day outing like the aquarium or for a walk in the park maybe. For smaller events, Chuuya will probably just use it as a car seat but leave the stroller folded in the car. Dazai causes the least amount of fuss about just being carried, so that’s usually Chuuya’s go-to.

Kunikida would love the stroller and baby sling (and while Dazai would be fond of neither, I agree he would probably prefer stroller to sling). Kunikida likes keeping the baby close, and having his hands free for whatever he needs. Kuni is usually also watching more than one little, so it’s great for multitasking. While he probably puts up a fuss going in to the sling, Dazai usually settles down in it after a bit. In the baby’s eyes, the stroller probably does seem a bit more independent, and Dazai can snuggle down in his blankie if he needs a break or if the outside world is too stimulating (leading to less trips home early due to overwhelmed babies)

[abbatoirablaze]

Behind Closed Doors, Chapter 5

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: angst, mentions of aggression/throwing things.

“Hey, are you okay?”

You nodded reassuringly as he cupped your face in his hands.  Your lips trembled as he gave you a sad look.  You could see behind the worried expression in his face, to the exhaustion.  You reached up and stroked the back of his hand, “have you been sleeping?”

“Look at you, little bird,” he smirked, shaking his head, “I came here to rescue you from your gilded cage and all you can do is worry about how I’ve been sleeping.  (Y/N), I’m fine.”

“You look exhausted.”

“I’ve been worried about you,” he admitted after a second, his own sad smile taking over on his beautiful face, “ever since you reached out and told me about what was really going on between you and Chris, I-”

“You reached out first,” you reminded him, “after you saw those pictures in that magazine.”

“Like I said, I’ve been worried about you,” he replied simply, “I know how dead set you were in me not keeping contact when you and Chris found out you were pregnant...I was just trying to respect your wishes...but then when I saw that picture of him drunk, having a night on the town, and it said that he was filming in Calgary...you just gave birth...he should have been there for you.”

“The babies are month old, Sebastian.  He-”

“Should have stayed longer,” he said quickly, cutting you off, “if those babies were mine...if I’d just gotten to you first and we-”

“Sebastian, please...”

He frowned, but nodded, “I’m sorry.  I know this isn’t what you want to hear.  I just-”

“Can we get out of here?” you asked softly. 

He nodded once more, “yeah...of course.  I got an SUV so we could take whatever you wanted.  Made sure there is enough room so that we could fold down a row of seats if you need more space, but-”

“I just want to take their stroller...some clothes and all the care stuff like diapers, wipes, and HBA stuff...and their car seats.”

“You don’t want to take their cribs or toys?” he asked, “there’s plenty of room for it-”

“They sleep better when they sleep with me in the bed,” you admitted with a frown, “I just put a few pool noodles around the edges, not that they’ve wobbled anywhere near close to the edge, but they hate their cribs...even when I put them together, they don’t like being away from me…and as far as the toys...they could care less for the room full of crap that Chris bought.  Money doesn’t replace their father being absent.”

He nodded, “yeah...okay...show me where to go, and I’ll start putting stuff in the car while you get the twins ready.”

“Yeah!” you nodded.  He let go of you and you turned on your heel, making your way through the house.  Sebastian stopped when the two of you reached the bedroom. 

His breath stole away in his throat as he saw the two sleeping infants nestled right beside each other. 

“Shit...” he muttered softly, the realization of it all hitting him like a freight train, “th-they’re-,  well, they’re there…”   

You turned on your heel, a diaper bag already on your shoulder while you wheeled the suitcase beside him, “What?”

“They’re so small,” he whispered softly.  He took a step forward towards the bed, and Johnny shifted.  Shayla whimpered in her sleep, “I-I don’t know what I thought but...they’re so tiny.”

“They were born a few weeks early,” you admitted with a giggle as you passed off the suitcase and diaper bag, “What did you expect?  Full grown toddlers?”

He smiled and looked at you, “they’re beautiful...”

You stopped moving and looked at the twins.  They were so peaceful.  So serene.  As much as it pained you to admit it, ever since Chris left it was like a weight had been lifted from the three of you.  All the tension from the house was gone, and the twins seemed to settle in perfectly fine without him; falling into a comfortable sleep schedule, and easy routine. 

“They are, aren’t they?” you asked softly, “I-I knew what I signed up for when I agreed to do this whole thing...but I-I never really stopped to think about it.  I mean, I always wanted to be a mom...have a big family, but I never thought it was in my cards when I became an escort.”

“And then you and Chris happened...”

“Yeah...”

“Do-do you ever wonder what it would have been like if you didn’t agree to the thing with Chris?” he asked, hoping that it would lead to the conversation of him having a shot at you. 

You shrugged, “I would have met you...but-I think-I think that this was meant to happen first...if that makes sense...Sebastian...you know there’s obviously something between us.  I mean, I feel the chemistry too, but I don’t know what it would be like if me and Chris never happened.  D-do you think about it?”

“Yeah....I do...a lot...”

“And?”

“I think you’re right,” he admitted softly, “I mean, I definitely feel the chemistry too, but I think that me and you were meant to be friends first...but I’ll tell you one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“You’re definitely going to be the woman that I spend the rest of my life with.”

“Sebastian...”

“I know,” he chuckled, shaking his head once more, “that’s not what you want to hear.”

“I-I didn’t say that…I just-this thing with Chris…it’s…it’s a lot…and right now, I just want to get the hell out of here.”

He smiled and held his hand out, “well then...let’s get started with the rest of our lives...shall we?”

“God he’s such a good guy!”  

You felt the blush rising on your cheeks as Sebastian cooed at your daughter.  Shayla giggled excitedly, her little hands grabbing at his face.

“What are you doing, baby girl?” he teased, playfully as she giggled even more, “I’m gonna get your hands.  I’m gonna get those little fingers!”

She squealed as he kissed her hands every time they got close enough to his face. 

“(Y/N!)”

You looked back to Blake, “I’m sorry, what?”

“You okay?” she teased playfully, a smirk growing on her face as she nudged you with her hip.

“Oh, yeah...sorry.  I just-”

“It’s fine,” she smiled as she handed you yours and Sebastian’s coffees, “So...we know the kids aren’t his...but how close are you two, really?”

“What?”

“Come on,” she laughed as she sipped on her drink as you watched him calm down as his friend, and fellow co-star Chace, handed Johnny back to him when one of the guys walked over to join the boys and babies, “he’s tight-lipped about your relationship with him.  He says that you’re his assistant, but he’s the sweetest with your kids.  He hasn’t even looked in the direction of another woman since he brought you and the twins back.  And you’ve been with us for two months...”

Your blush grew deeper on your cheeks as you looked at him.  He was still heavily involved in giving all of his attention to the two playful three-month-olds.

“We-we’re just-taking it slow...”

“I knew it!” she grinned. 

“Blake...”

“Hey, don’t be ashamed!” she laughed, “we all knew there was something going on.”

“Right now...there isn’t,” you said with a shake of your head, “I left a very...complicated situation.  He’s been an amazing man, and friend by coming and helping me out of it.  He gave me a job and lets me stay with him...without him I-I probably would have stayed in that situation.”

“So...do you have feelings for him?”

Your heart lurched in your chest. 

You’d gone to shower after a long day of driving with Sebastian.  He’d insisted that the two of you get a hotel room for the evening after both of you had driven through the afternoon and well into the early evening.  And while you had initially rejected the idea, you were so grateful when you felt the hot water rolling down your back.

But when you’d come out of the bathroom, and you saw that the twins were tucked into both of his arms, and the three of them were asleep.

Game over.

Every hormone in your body was working double-time. 

You wanted to cry. 

You wanted to jump his bones. 

You felt happiness...sadness...every emotion under the sun.

Why wasn’t Chris ever like that with the twins?

Why hadn’t they accepted him as much, or as easily as they seemed to accept Sebastian?

“Sebastian....” you whispered softly, hoping that you could wake him, and he could slip out from the twins and grab a shower for himself, “Sebastian...I’m done.  You can grab a shower if you want.”

“C’mere!” he yawned, his eyes still closed as he gestured for you to join him on the bed, “come and join us...”

“You should grab a shower!” you said softly, “we spent a long time in the car...”

He sighed, his eyes opening ever so slightly.  You felt like it was hard to breathe as his eyes met yours, “you look beautiful like that...”

“Wh-what?” you asked, the word getting choked up in your throat, “li-like a wet rat?”

“You look like you washed away the stress from the past year in that shower...”

“Yeah,” you admitted, “I think I might have...”

He sucked in his cheeks as he stared at you.  His voice held a twinge of jealousy to it, “well...would you look at the happy little family...”

Your heart felt like it stopped in your chest as you saw your ex standing, waiting for you to arrive at the apartment, “Ch-Chris...what are you doing here?”

His jaw twitched and he crossed his arms over his chest as his stance widened.  It felt like he was taking up most of the room in the hall, his body blocking the entrance to Sebastian’s apartment, “I got done filming (Y/n)...”

“Oh...”

“Found your little note that you left on the dresser,” he scoffed angrily, “how could you just leave when I was at work?  How did you think it was okay to just pick up and leave...with my children.”

You could hear the anger in his tone.  You took a step back, the stroller moving back a beat as Sebastian stepped between the two of you, “Look...I’m okay with the two of you talking, but you’re going to do it inside, not create a scene, and be respectful to her, Chris.  She’s the mother of your children.”

His jaw twitched once more, and he glared at you. 

“Chris!”

You felt your throat go dry as the two of you stared at one another in some sort of Mexican standoff.  But after a pregnant pause, Chris stepped aside, holding his hands up in defense, “open the door...”

Sebastian looked back to you, “you okay with this?”

“Yeah,” you said after another second, “You’re right...he-he is the twin’s father...we should talk.”

He nodded once more and turned towards the apartment.  Pulling the keys from his pocket he unlocked the door and gestured for Chris to walk in. 

He did so, but not before giving you another look.  You took short, quick steps, reaching the door a moment after he went through it.  Sebastian put a hand on your arm, “hey...I see what’s going on in your eyes...he’s not going to do anything to take the children away from you.  He signed that contract too!  Remember that.”

You nodded, biting back your worry as you pushed through the door.  The stroller stopped in the living room, and you kissed both of the twins before you felt Sebastian’s hand on your lower back.  You turned and he handed you the two bags of groceries, “want to put these away and start a pot of coffee?  I’ll get the twins out of the stroller and set them up for tummy time.”

You gave a nervous nod and traded off the bags for the babies, making your way behind the island as he started unbuckling the twins, “(Y/N) is going to make some coffee.”

“I don’t want coffee,” Chris growled as he shot you another look.  You turned on the coffee maker before turning your attention to the groceries, “I came here to talk about my kids.”

“And we can do that,” Sebastian said softly as he pulled Johnny from the stroller and set him down on the play mat and pillow that propped him up for tummy time, “but we’re going to calm down...both of you.”

“How the fuck do you expect me to be any calmer, Stan?” Chris asked, “she ran away with my kids while I was off filming?  How the hell would you feel if it was your kids?  FUCK!  You fucking helped her do it!  We’re supposed to be friends!”

“Well, I can tell where your priorities are already,” he said quickly, shooting him a look as he retrieved Shayla and set her down beside Johnny before turning on an educational show he’d recorded on his DVR for them, “you’ve already been in their presence for five or ten minutes and still haven’t acknowledged them and instead chose to curse about my decisions in helping your ex.”

“Don’t tell me where my priorities are Sebastian!” he hissed. 

“Well, they’re happy and healthy...in case you were wondering,” he said with a shrug, “They just had a checkup and some shots for vaccinations last week...again, in case you were wondering.”

Chris looked down at the twins for a second and you frowned. 

You could see the regret in his eyes as he looked at them. 

You knew that deep down he did love the twins.  He just wasn’t the best at showing it.

“They’re smart...and sweet...they love all of Sebastian’s co-stars on Gossip Girl...”

“I shouldn’t have to have found out that you were leaving through a note,” he grumbled, shooting you another look, “you shouldn’t have left.”

“Sebastian offered me a job,” you admitted as you poured three cups of coffee, “He saw that I was alone with the twins...he saw that I needed away from the house...and you told me to leave anyways...”

“I told you to think about it.”

“After you realized that I have primary custody of the children.”

“Why are you doing this to me?” he asked, taking a few steps towards you, his voice raising ever so slightly, “why are you doing this to us?”

“Chris-”

“No, (Y/N) we-” He stopped speaking when Shayla immediately started crying.  Turning around, he sighed, stalking towards her, “Shit...”

“I got her!” Sebastian said slowly, also making his way towards the babies.

“Back off, Sebastian...she’s my daughter!” he growled, “I think I can calm down my own child!”

Sebastian took a step back, holding his hands up, “Okay.”

Chris stopped just short of the mat and bent over, picking up the crying infant in a quick swoop.  Immediately she started screaming, her head wobbling around as she searched for something familiar.  Your heart raced as you knew who she was searching for, as she made grabby hands in his direction when she spotted him just a few feet away. 

Between sobs and screams, she was babbling, and you knew she was trying to call for Sebastian.

“Chris-”

“I GOT HER!” he growled firmly, his voice raising even more.  His timber scared Shayla, and she began screaming bloody murder as she continuously reached for Sebastian.  He looked at you, and you raced around the island, snatching her from Chris’ hands before he knew what you were doing. 

Shayla stopped screaming when she noticed you were holding her, but she was inconsolable as she continued to reach for Sebastian.  You could see the fear in your son’s eyes as he saw his sister crying, and you bent over to scoop him up as well.

“Want me to take her?” Sebastian offered.

“Please...” you begged, walking back over to him. 

“Come here princess!” he cooed, reaching out for her.  The infant leaned out, and he caught her in his arms, immediately holding her against himself, shushing and cooing her.  She nuzzled herself into his neck, and her sobs turned into quiet whimpers as he rocked her.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he growled, “she won’t shut the hell up for me, her actual father, but she’ll calm down the second she’s in his arms?  Were you fucking him, (Y/N?)  Is he the twins real father?

“Chris-”

“She wants him...fucking him!” he growled.

“Because he’s been there for them!  Not you!  She doesn’t fucking know you, Chris!” you growled back in response, finally snapping at him, “the first month of her life she barely knew what was going on, but after your parents and siblings left after that first week, you became disengaged.  You never picked them up.  You never held them or chased away their fears.   You just bought gifts and told me to hire a nanny before disappearing.  Sebastian helps.  He changes their diapers.  He bathes them.  He engages them.  Rocks them to sleep.  Feeds and loves them.  Of course Shayla and Johnny are attached to him!”

“Are you fucking him?”

Your throat went dry once more as you looked at him, “excuse me?”

“You heard what I said,” he said in a low tone, “are you fucking him?”

“No, you asshole.  I’m not fucking Sebastian...”

“This is a one bedroom,” he said firmly, eyes darting down the hall, “where do you sleep?  Where do the kids sleep?”

“I sleep on the couch!” Sebastian said honestly, “it’s not what you’re thinking, C-”

“I didn’t fucking ask you, Stan!”

“I sleep in his bed...the kids sleep in his bed.  With ME!” you hissed, “Sebastian sleeps on the couch!  For Christ’s sakes, the pillows and blankets are folded up behind you!  Anything else you want to know?”

His jaw twitched and he walked over to the island in silence.  His hands cupped the mug of coffee that you’d poured for him, but he didn’t lift it to his lips.

“So, this is it,” he asked, “just going to move in with some guy?  Run off with my kids?”

“Sebastian isn’t some guy, Chris...”

“Do you love him?”

“Chris...”

He whipped around, his hand launching the coffee cup against the wall.  The ceramic shattered and the coffee went everywhere.  Both of the twins started screaming and crying over the loud noise, “BE FUCKING HONEST WITH ME, (Y/N)!”

“Chris...I’m going to say this once,” Sebastian said in a low, warning tone, “leave my apartment...right now.  Or I’m calling the cops...You and I both know that the last thing you need right now is the cops being called on you.  Think about it.  The press…do you really want to start this kind of PR over a temper tantrum you’re having?”

“You’re un-fucking-believable,” he scoffed, running his hand over his mouth while the two of you tried to soothe the twins, “fucking Sebastian Stan...take my girlfriend...my kids-”

“He didn’t do anything but help me get out of a bad situation,” you hissed, “we aren’t together.  He’s just there for me.  He’s there for the kids!  You aren’t!”

“I was trying to provide for you.  For them.  FOR US!”

“Chris...you’re scaring your kids...do the right thing.  Just go!”

“I’m going!” he said firmly, cutting Sebastian off.  He started walking towards the door, shaking his head.  He sniffled and turned towards you as his hand reached for the door.  Part of your heart ached as you saw the tears in his eyes, “I hope you’re happy, (Y/N).”

“Chris-”

“You’re a fucking leech!  You’re taking my family out from under me because I got her first…and that’s fucking low,” he growled, cutting Sebastian off as he gave him a final look, “you’re a no-name, no talent leech and you’ll always stay that way…some fucking soap opera wannabe…go to hell, Sebastian.”  

Chapter 6

[meilirima]

What Parents Think about the Inglesina Zippy Stroller?

One of the many models of baby strollers sold on the market these days is Inglesina Zippy, a model that seems to gather plenty of interest and enjoy great popularity. Even if there are some glitches about click here how the stroller works for parents, the Inglesina model has great ratings in all areas that matter for those searching for a versatile stroller.

Convenience of use

One feature that draws attention right from the start about the Inglesina Zippy stroller is that it can be easily folded and opened in one single move. It also comes in handy that the entire operation can be done with only one hand, while a parent can use the other hand to hold the baby or extra bags. The materials used in the making of this stroller are lightweight – the frame is made of aluminum – which allows any parent to carry it around and store it in a car, whenever is needed.

Extra comfort for the baby

Another great feature of this baby stroller is the large canopy that can be folded so that the child gets more air, or extended, so that it protects the baby from rain and wind. According to consumers’ reviews, parents love the fact that there is also a rain cover coming along with the package, and a special Saccottino Bag that helps them keep the baby hot, even when outside the temperature reaches freezing points. It seems that the manufacturers thought a lot about providing the best comfort for the baby, since they added extra padding in the area that sustains the kid’s head and neck. The reclining function of Inglesina Zippy is designed so that the baby can sleep soundly, preventing their feet from dangling outside the stroller.

Easy ride

This particular baby stroller has made quite an impact on parents for more reasons than one. It comes appointed with all-terrain wheels, and sturdy suspension. The said feature are not only useful to provide the baby with a good sleeping environment, but also to help parents navigate through the city and not only, without having to worry about a bumpy ride. Inglesina Zippy guarantees an easy ride, as pushing the stroller does not strain parents’ wrists.

Are there any things that parents do not like?

Like other similar products, Inglesina Zippy strollerhas its downsides. Taller parents may find the handles to be uncomfortable and they may kick the wheels with their feet while walking their babies. The cup holder is not very convenient, either, and the size of the basket is somewhat on the smaller side. However, it is worth mentioning that even parents that are not crazy about these little mishaps still claim to be in love with this baby stroller.

[whentherewerebicycles]

slightly tougher night but we had some smaller victories around extending sleep windows a little longer (currently trying to teach him to soothe himself back to sleep when he’s not acting too hungry, just fussy). but he’s being super snuggly and cute right now so yknow. newborn tradeoffs. today is the BIG DAY for new baby arriving!! so we are mostly hanging around waiting for that. here are the things I’d like to do today:

bf for 30 min

wash bottles & formula pitcher

10 min tidy of the downstairs just focusing on resetting the space in case my brother & SIL come over for dinner later

10 min tidy of the upstairs

change sheets and duvet cover (we had a Spit-Up Incident this morning)

fold laundry and maybe start new load of laundry if I can find the will

walk the dogs—I have been doing short 20 min walks because it’s a lot to wrangle two dogs and a stroller, but carrying this giant boy in the carrier hurts my back on longer walks. however I really want to build back up to 45 min/day!! I might try doing 20 min with both dogs + boy in the carrier and then 25 min with pip + boy in the stroller. we will see.

showerrrr

make formula

pick up grocery order

hospital visit????? even if baby has not arrived we will swing by to drop off chargers and food at some point

dinner with D&M

ok this easy list of tasks feels a bit overwhelming lol so let’s see. I’ll do 15 min of lying around and scrolling now then I think I’ll get dressed and do the walk while it’s nice and cool out… get it over with early. then shower! then feed the boy! then tidy?? we’ll reassess then lol.

[pbandjesse]

I realized earlier that this is the very last day where James has the day off and we have nothing to do. Like no scheduled appointment or anything. This was the last day until baby is here. That's wild. I'm excited to meet her but also nervous!!! I hope she's chill.

I slept terribly last night. I had really horrible nightmares. My legs and back hurt so badly. I was having a terrible time. And Sweetp kept standing on my head. It was really just not a great night for me.

So when I woke up at 9 I was pretty miserable. James would come upstairs to hold me and that made my back feel a little better. But we were in bed until like 10. We had nowhere we had to be and it was just nice.

When I did eventually decide to get up it was a slow process. My body aches pretty bad and it's hard for me to pull myself up. But it's fine. I did my best. I got washed and dressed and braided my hair.

My skin is really dry though. And I am trying to moisturize with the Nivea creme everywhere that is dry and it's helping but if I get any dry spots I end up picking them like crazy and making it all worse. It's a terrible cycle I keep getting in.

James made me an omelette for breakfast and it was good but the potatoes they put in it didn't taste right. But it was fine. I enjoyed laying on the couch with them while they played a card video game.

James asked if there was anything I wanted to do today. And I said I wanted to go and try and get a highchair from IKEA. Everyone recommends it and I thought it would be fun to spend some dedicated time in the baby area. And we could get hot dogs.

Closer to noon, once James was done their game, we got together to go. And it was nice. The drive out was good. And I was just having fun being with James.

When we got to IKEA we went right to baby area. And I was slightly overwhelmed. The things we absolutely still need were: bottles, highchair, sheets, and stroller. This is not accounting for things like soaps and formula. But like physical things those are the big ones.

They had three different highchair combinations but when we got to the warehouse they only had the most expensive one. So we decided not to pick that up today. We did get some bibs and wash clothes and a few other little things. We also decided to pick up frozen veggies dogs because we like them so much.

We also would get some from the cafe before we left. We each got a veggie dog and we shared a soda and then we each got a sweet thing. And it was just really nice to sit together and talk through what we needed to get still. Things that have been weighing on me. We talked about going to the target near the IKEA to see if we could try out some strollers. But then I remembered I had seen TikToks about a store called once upon a child which is like a consignment shop of baby stuff.

There was one about 20 minutes away so we would go there. And it was an excellent stop for us!!

When we got there I was again, overwhelmed. This place was packed with stuff. Mostly clothes but also just stuff. So much stuff. And they did have a good amount of strollers. But I was very picky. I wanted a bassinet style one. I wanted one without much stuff. Like streamlined. Something easy to fold and didn't weigh to much.

James would pull some down for me. There were two that I liked. And we would end up with a really pretty magenta color one. They actually had two of the same one and so we compared them and I think we did a good job picking the better of the two. And it was 20% off. So we paid less then $70! No highchair or sheets but an excellent stop regardless!

We left there and I asked to stop at the goodwill but it was not a great stop. The vibes were terrible, even James was like. That place was depressing. We had a big laugh about that and headed home.

James would send my mom the links to the sheets for our crib because she said she wanted to buy them. And I would find a good deal on the sheets for the Moses basket on eBay. And I just felt like we were really killing it today getting ready for Sylvie to be here.

We would get home and had a nice conversation with our neighbor Ms Washington. And she wished us good luck and prayers for baby and good health. That was nice of her.

I was really ready to lay down for a bit though. My lower stomach continued to hurt. And once we were inside I changed into shorts and that helped. Wasn't squeezed as much. I asked James to put the heat on and would work on putting things away. James was getting ready to go for a long bike ride. So I would have a while to be alone.

And it was nice. I cleaned up my cuticles. And cleaned up my space and my desk. I accidently broke my silicone navel ring so I had to find a longer bar for now and it feels pretty comfortable so that's good. And I was having a nice time. Even if I was a bit cold.

James would get home before the sun went down. I had been in bed having a snack. I had finished setting up our baby monitor that James had mounted yesterday. And when James got back we just sat together for a bit before they went to do laundry and hang out downstairs doing their thing.

And that's been our evening. We had breakfast sandwiches for dinner. And I bought a silly shirt on auction. And I am going to wash my hair before getting ready for bed. Where I hope I will have an easier time.

Tomorrow we have back to back appointments. They are in the middle of the day though so it will be a more chill morning I think. I hope. I hope it's all good news at the appointments.

Sleep well everyone. Be safe. Goodnight!!

[annaphoenix1994]

Thankful - Part 1

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"Baler," Kiera whispered from behind the couch, looking over to see the teen's sleeping form spread across the leather couch, his mouth agape and his right arm above his head. "Baler." 

"Hmph?" He grumbled, his eyes still closed, taking a few moments before fluttering his eyes open, looking around to follow the sound of Kiera's soothing voice - her motherly voice. 

"It's time to get up." 

His eyes followed the sound of her voice, looking up to see her face looking down at him from behind the couch, Evie's curious gaze looking at her mother's face as she sat securely against Kiera's hip. "Wh-What time is it?" 

"It's almost nine."

Baler shot up at the time, hating himself for oversleeping. "I'm sorry for oversleeping, Miss Kiera. I'll go get ready and go to the barn-"

"Not today, Baler. You worked late last night and missed dinner. You'll be coming with me into town today to get some groceries for dinner tomorrow night while Simon is out hunting with my dad." 

"O-Okay," Baler nodded, shaking his head as he had forgotten briefly about addressing her like he did Simon. "Um, yes ma'am." 

"Thank you. Your breakfast is on the table and after you finish up, you can get ready to go into town while I'm getting the babies ready. I may need a hand with getting their stroller in the truck." 

"Yes, ma'am. I'll help." 

Kiera couldn't help but smile at his improved behavior, hoping he was just as proud as she and Simon were of him for coming such a long way in a short period of time.

Although his path wasn't easy as he and Simon didn't see eye-to-eye on some things, but one thing was for certain: Simon made it very clear that major consequences came if Baler ever disrespected Kiera again, especially around their infants. 

He watched as Kiera nodded, standing up to fold the blanket he used to sleep with and drape it over the back of the couch before taking his pillow and fluffing it to put it in the drawer along with taking his dirty clothes from the day before into the hamper in the laundry room. He was thankful to see a plate of hearty breakfast waiting for him when he sat down - two pancakes, two scrambled eggs, and four pieces of bacon. If Miss Kiera keeps making me big breakfasts like this, I won't be able to work being this full... But I'm not complaining, he thought as he wasted no time in digging in. 

A few minutes later, Kiera returned into the kitchen with free hands, putting her hair into a loose bun as she made a plate of breakfast for herself, sitting down across from Baler with a playful arch of her brow, "Good Lord, did you taste anything?" She giggled. 

"Uh... Yeah? It's good." He replied, confused. 

"You're eating that so fast I would assume you didn't taste anything." 

Baler chuckled, "Oh, yeah. It was so bad, I'll need another plate to get the taste out of my mouth." 

She laughed at his wit, "Well, you're more than welcome to get another plate if you want." 

"What about your husband?" He questioned, feeling like he hadn't earned Simon's respect yet to address him by his first name. 

Kiera grinned, "He ate early this morning before he met my dad for hunting. He doesn't usually eat a big breakfast. He says big breakfasts make him gain weight." 

"I mean, if I ate a breakfast like this every day, I wouldn't be surprised if I got fat too." Baler chuckled, taking a drink of water from the glass. 

"Hey, I gotta make sure you and him don't starve."

Baler shrugged, "Well, you're definitely good at making sure we don't starve." 

"Just wait until Thanksgiving," She arched her brow. "I'm making banana pudding next year and I know you and Simon won't just have one serving of it." 

"I've never had it," He replied after swallowing. "It'll be my first Thanksgiving dinner ever if you don't kick me out by then." 

"Well, you certainly deserve to have a Thanksgiving with a family that is happy to have you." 

"R-Really? Your husband doesn't seem to like me..." 

Kiera huffed, "This was all a big surprise for him. He doesn't take to surprises very well, but that doesn't mean he doesn't like you. You and him are just alike. And I told him that where you two are just alike that he had an opportunity to make you into a man better than your father." 

"My dad was a piece of shit-" He replied angrily, his eyes immediately widening at the realization that he had just cursed in front of Kiera. "I-I'm sorry. He was uh-"

"A piece of shit, I know," She finished for him, arching her brow. "It's okay, just... refrain from using curse words in front of me when I have the kids."

"And especially around your husband?" 

"Right," Kiera nodded. "Although he's technically not my husband yet. He's my fiancé." 

"Oh. I-I thought you two were married since you have kids..." 

"That's what anyone would think, but the pregnancy was a surprise," She chuckled. "Our kids took his last name before I did."

"When's the wedding?" 

"I don't know yet. I was thinking sometime in the fall - maybe next year." 

"Oh." 

"Yeah. I'm going to finish up and start getting ready. I'd like to leave here before eleven." 

Baler nodded, watching Kiera finish up the small amount of food on her plate before taking it to the sink, ridding the remnants of food from her plate before walking into her and Simon's bedroom to get ready for the day, Baler vaguely hearing her voice from the other room, concluding she had been talking on the phone as her tone was loving and welcoming. 

She had been talking to Simon. 

"When do you think you'll be home?"

"Okay. Well, I'll come down to the barn to see you before we go into town. I'm going to take Baler with me so I can put the kids in their stroller and have him push the cart." 

"Okay. I'll see you in a little bit!"

"I love you too!" 

»»-------¤-------««

Without complaints, Baler helped Kiera load the stroller into the bed of her truck as well as offering any assistance when she secured the infants into their car seats, getting into the passenger seat as Kiera began driving towards the barn to meet Simon at the barn, watching him and her father beginning to harvest the massive turkey he had shot early that morning. She smirked as she rolled down her window, watching as her father had begun draining the turkey. "Looks like you're going to be busy all day." 

Simon's head turned towards the sound of her voice, a smirk plastering on his face as he approached her truck, leaning his veined arms against the open window, feeling the heat from the vents on his face. "I'd rather do this all day than go into public." He chuckled. 

"I'd say so, babe," She sighed. "I'm dreading going into town." 

"Want me to go with you?" 

"I always want you to go with me places," She giggled. "But you don't have to. Just doing some shopping." 

"I can meet you there if you want. I don't like thinking you'll needing help and I'm not there, especially with you knowing how paranoid I am about you going to public places by yourself." 

"I know, babe. So am I." 

Simon leant closer towards her to ask his next question in a low tone, "Do you at least have your gun?" 

"I don't leave the house without it," She grinned. "Momma is packin'." 

"I prefer you not if I'm with you, but I feel better knowing you can defend yourself if something happens." 

"Would you feel better if you came with me?"

"I would, actually," Simon nodded. "You're going to have your hands full, and I don't want you to get overwhelmed." 

"Okay. What're you going to do about the turkey?" She asked, nodding her head towards the game that her father had strung, making work of processing the wild animal he was thankful for as it could feed the entire family, including the guests at the ranch, at least twice. 

"Considering Soap is leaning over your father's shoulder absolutely mesmerized, I think I won't have an issue finding someone to take over. Your father seemed eager to get to dressing that bloke after I shot it. I think he's mad." He chuckled. 

"I'm sure he's jealous since you beat him to the kill." 

"He won't admit it, but he is," Simon chuckled. "I'll go and tell him and I'll see you in a bit, yeah?" 

"I'll be right here." She smiled as she watched him walk towards her father and Soap, chuckling at how Soap looked like a kid in a candy store as he watched Bud skin and gut the turkey. 

"So... Does this mean I have to get out and go to work?" Baler asked nervously. 

"Nope," Kiera smiled, looking over at him. "Unless you'd rather..." 

"Honestly, no." 

"I don't blame you, kid. Cleaning out stalls is hard work." 

"It's not too bad," He huffed. "I guess I'll get in the back seat between the babies?" 

"Yeah. There's plenty of room back there for you." 

"I'm a lot smaller than him," Baler scoffed, referring to Simon as the man was twice his size in comparison. Maybe even three times bigger than me, the teen thought. The man is so big, he made her shoot out two kids at a time instead of one... he mused, unable to hide his chuckle with a smirk at the inappropriate joke. "He'd probably be mad if I didn't move to the back seat for him." 

"He wouldn't be mad, but he'd be pissed where he wouldn't have much leg room. Although I'll probably let him drive. He swears up and down that I drive my own vehicle like I stole it-" 

"-Because you do," Simon cut her off, approaching the vehicle after ridding himself of his camouflage jacket, revealing the long-sleeved black undershirt he wore under it, leaving him in just his jeans and shirt as well as taking off the hunter orange balaclava that kept his face warm in the cold December air. "I'd prefer it if we get there safely, especially with the little ones." 

Kiera scoffed at his comment, "Says the one who got his driver's license from a cereal box!" She teased. 

"Big words for a lass who backed up into a light pole with a back-up camera." 

"I don't know what you're talking about. There's no dents to prove it." 

"Steel flatbeds tend to have that effect, love," He huffed. "Move over, the captain is back on his ship." He smirked, loving how easily he wound Kiera up with their playful banter, seeing the sarcastic retort waiting to spew from her lips. 

"No, the Captain is at his cabin puffing on a cigar and enjoying his morning coffee while some private is over here trying to judge my apparent driving." She arched her brow, watching Simon's eyes widen at the insult, shooting her a playful glare at the wrong acknowledgment of his rank. 

He waited to shoot his response after he helped her out of the driver's seat, leaning close to her ear, "You keep that up and you won't be able to wear those jeans again." He warned playfully, his constant attraction towards her peaking with every flattering outfit she wore, especially the jeans she favored - maternity jeans to be exact - as they were comfortable against her midsection as her C-Section site was still very much sore after her uterus had completely shrunken back to its normal size, leaving almost constant soreness in its wake with every engagement of her abdominal muscles. 

That, and she was ashamed to acknowledge that she had gained weight after delivering the twins, hoping to conceal her weight gain with loose-fitting clothes, hoping Simon would never see her any different after having their children as well as living with the constant fear that he would fall out of love with her for losing her "pre-pregnancy body."

But Simon noticed. 

Did he care? No. 

A hard fucking no. He loved every stretch mark, the scar from her C-Section that was a constant reminder of what she had brought into this world for him - for them, knowing that the operation saved Evie's life during labor. He didn't care if she gained another hundred pounds - it didn't change how she was towards him and how he fell in love with her. He saw that fear of rejection in her eyes every time she contemplated on wearing something nice just to change into something that concealed her weight gain, knowing it tore her up more emotionally to see her body in a different state than how much it hurt Simon to watch her judge herself for how she looked. Love, if you wanted to go back to the gym, I'll go with you. If you'd rather stay in bed all day, I'll be right there. Nothing will take away the woman I fell in love with. 

"Oh, is that a threat?" She giggled. 

"More like a promise." 

"But I like these jeans..." 

"They make thousands of them. I'll buy you another pair after I cut them off of you if you call me private again." He joked, a strained tone of arousal hiding in the back of his throat, careful not to make their flirting obvious as he walked her around the front of the truck, opening the passenger side door for her as Baler got out, Kiera knowing she could wind Simon up as much as he did her knowing that he wouldn't have a sarcastic remark waiting for her since Baler would be in the middle of it. 

"Thank you, private." She smiled, reaching behind her to secure herself into the seat with the seatbelt, watching that playful glare stay sharp in his eyes while his lips tightened, noticing how his veins protruded slightly more as his grip on the door tightened. 

"You were just a private in the Army?" Baler guessed, hearing the term with innocent intention, furrowing his brows after he heard Kiera's giggle, wondering what Simon would respond with. 

"No, I was a Lieutenant," He huffed. "She just likes to piss me off intentionally." 

"Oh." 

"Yeah. Get in the back. It's gonna be a long day." 

After various playful and seductive glares between the couple, as well as plenty of sarcastic comments about how Kiera kept her seat so close to the steering wheel, they both looked over at her father and Soap, watching the Scottish Sergeant wiping a bead of sweat from his brow after tossing various parts of the turkey into the galvanized bucket. "Hey!" Simon shouted from inside the truck, getting the men's attention. "Need anything while we're gone?" 

"A million dollars!" Soap replied. 

"Where've I heard that before?" Simon scoffed. 

"I have a lot of dad jokes to memorize. Being an uncle and a full-time ranch hand is a hard job." 

"You're technically not an uncle and barely a ranch hand?" Simon poked, his tone sounding legitimate. "You're like a blister - you show up when the work is done." 

Both Soap and Bud laughed. 

"Now that's a dad joke! Sounds like you got those down pat, L.T." 

"Yeah, because I'm technically a dad." 

"Harsh," Soap shook his head, resting his hands on his hips before pointing to one of the wrangler's chocolate Labrador who was grooming himself. "Hey, look at that dog over there licking his ballocks!" 

Bud shook his head, hiding a chuckle behind his white mustache, "His what?" 

"Licking his balls," Soap corrected. "I wish I could do that." 

Bud straightened his posture, a heavy sigh leaving his lips, Kiera being the only one to pick up on the sarcastic comment that was pending behind his unaged wit. "Well, I'd probably go and pet him first. He looks kinda mean." 

Both Simon and Kiera couldn't help but laugh at the old man's remark as well as Soap's flushed face of embarrassment, knowing he didn't have a sly retort. "And that's our cue to leave." 

"Why?" Baler questioned from the back seat, making eye contact with the man in the rear-view mirror. "I was wondering if he had something stupid to say back." 

Simon breathed a chuckle, "Because knowing him, he'd actually try and I don't want to traumatize myself by having to watch it happen, but trust me, you'll hear plenty of stupid shite that comes from his mouth." 

"Kiera said no cursing in front of the kids..." 

He watched Simon huff before he glanced over at her, watching her nod her head in agreement at her early attempt at successful parenting. "It's not like they'll know what that word means until they're four." He stated, hoping he had an excuse to curse as it came as a second instinct to him. 

"Their brains are like a sponge, babe. I'm starting to think you'll be the first one to teach them a bad word," Kiera teased. "Besides, you have an almost grown young man to look after now, so we have a head start on raising one around a good role model." 

"They're almost three months old, love-" 

"Still." She arched her brow, smirking at his defeat before watching him turn his head to look at Baler in the back seat. 

She knew Simon was going to be petty. 

"Shite." He mouthed, knowing he was grinding Kiera's gears as well as finding the situation humorous. 

"God," She sighed playfully, resting her elbow on the console. "I can't wait until I can start vaping again. Haven't had nicotine in over a year now-" 

"You're about to make me start with this new 'no cursing' rule," He huffed. "And no. I would rather you burn those bloody things before taking a hit off of another one." 

"I know. Feels kinda good since I quit." 

"Let's keep it that way, yeah?"

[atri28]

Traveling with Little Ones: Practical Tips Every Parent Needs to Know

Traveling with young children can be one of the most rewarding experiences for a family, but it can also be quite challenging. Between packing extra gear, keeping kids entertained during long trips, and managing unexpected meltdowns, it’s easy for parents to feel overwhelmed. But with a little preparation and the right mindset, family travel can be smooth, enjoyable, and filled with unforgettable memories.

Here are some practical tips that every parent should keep in mind when traveling with little ones:

1. Pack Smart and Light

When traveling with children, it’s tempting to overpack, thinking you’ll need everything under the sun. However, packing light can be a game-changer, especially when you have to carry bags, strollers, and wrangle kids through airports or train stations. Stick to the essentials: diapers, wipes, a change of clothes, and any comfort items your child relies on (like a favorite stuffed animal or blanket).

Pro tip: Invest in a small, lightweight stroller that’s easy to fold and carry, and use packing cubes to stay organized. This will make it easier to access what you need without rummaging through bags in a rush.

2. Keep Snacks Handy

Hungry kids are unhappy kids. Always have a variety of snacks within easy reach during your travels. From crackers and fruit pouches to small sandwiches, snacks can be a lifesaver during long flights, car rides, or unexpected delays. Be mindful of food allergies and pack familiar snacks to avoid upset stomachs or fussy eaters on the go.

Remember to bring spill-proof water bottles or sippy cups to keep your little ones hydrated throughout the journey.

3. Plan Around Their Routine

Sticking to a child’s routine while traveling can be difficult, but it’s key to keeping them comfortable and less cranky. Try to schedule flights or long drives during their usual nap times so they can sleep en route. Similarly, keep mealtimes and bedtime routines as close to normal as possible to avoid any disruptions in their sleep patterns.

If you’re staying in a hotel or rental, try to recreate a sense of familiarity by bringing along items that remind them of home, such as a nightlight or their favorite bedtime book.

4. Bring Entertainment

No matter how short the journey, kids need entertainment to keep them occupied and engaged. Pack a variety of toys, books, or tablets loaded with their favorite shows and games. Quiet activities like coloring books, puzzles, or sticker sets are perfect for passing time in airports or during long waits.

Keep in mind that children can get bored quickly, so switch up activities to maintain their interest. And don’t forget headphones if you’re planning to let them watch something on a tablet during the trip!

5. Be Flexible and Expect the Unexpected

When traveling with little ones, things won’t always go according to plan. Flights get delayed, tantrums happen, and plans change. The key to stress-free family travel is staying flexible and expecting the unexpected. Build extra time into your schedule for bathroom breaks, snack stops, and occasional meltdowns. When things go off course, try to stay calm and remember that every family experiences bumps along the way.

A little patience goes a long way in making family travel more enjoyable. Focus on the fun moments and let go of the idea of a "perfect trip."

6. Choose Child-Friendly Accommodations

When traveling with young children, choosing the right place to stay can make all the difference. Opt for child-friendly accommodations that offer amenities like cribs, high chairs, and even childproofing services. Some hotels and vacation rentals offer family-friendly activities, kids’ clubs, or babysitting services, which can be a great way to unwind and take a break.

For a list of family-friendly vacation rentals and travel accommodations, check out b0arding.com, where you can find great options to suit your family’s needs.

7. Embrace the Adventure

Above all, remember that traveling with little ones is an adventure. There will be challenges, but those challenges will soon turn into stories you’ll laugh about later. The joy of watching your child discover new places, see different cultures, or play in the sand for the first time makes it all worthwhile.

The more you travel with your children, the more you’ll become confident in managing the ups and downs of family trips. So pack your bags, embrace the adventure, and create lasting memories with your little ones!

Traveling with kids doesn’t have to be stressful—it can be an amazing bonding experience with the right preparation and mindset. For more helpful tips on family-friendly travel and vacation planning, visit b0arding.com to make your next trip with the kids a breeze.

[archiveofkloss]

karlie kloss recently shared some of her parenting and everyday must-haves with cnn underscored!

1. Lanolips, “The Original 101 Ointment Multipurpose Superbalm” - $16.95

"I use this balm every single day," Kloss says. "It keeps my lips and skin hydrated 24/7." Made 100% naturally with ultra-pure grade Australian lanolin, the 101 Ointment is aptly named: it serves 101 functions. This balm is excellent for anything dry or chapped including lips, skin patches, cuticles, elbows, and more. It is also safe to use during pregnancy, for nursing mothers, and with babies

2. Owala, “Kids’ Freesip” - $22.99

"Levi adores his colorful sippy cup, and it never, ever leaks," Kloss says. Made from triple-layered, vacuum-insulated stainless steel, the FreeSip is not only tough but also keeps drinks cold for up to 24 hours.

3. Coterie, “The Wipe: 4 Pack” - $30.00

"As a professional model, l've spent many hours on a makeup chair, so i've been through my fair share of makeup and baby wipes," Kloss says. "These ones from Coterie are my favorite! They're great for diaper changes, sticky hands and faces or any other daily messes. I even use them on myself, and I will be carrying them in my bag long after I have a child in diapers!" Up to 30% larger than most wipes, Coterie’s are chemical-free and made with purified water, skincare ingredients such as vitamin E and glycerin, and plant-based, plastic-free, biodegradable fibers.

4. Estée Lauder, “Turbo Lash High Powered Volume + Length Mascara” - $34.00

Kloss, who is an Estée Lauder global brand ambassador, says, "When I'm not working, I prefer to go for a more natural look, and this mascara is one of my staples for my daily routine. It gives my lashes that perfect lift for an easy, effortless look."

5. Doona, “Doona + Car Seat & Stroller” - $550

"I love this stroller because it's very new-parent-friendly and easy to fold, which really comes in handy when you're strapped for time and on the move," Kloss says. As the first fully integrated travel system, Doona’s car seat allows for travel with ease for parents on-the-go as it can transform into a stroller within seconds. Available in seven colors, the Doona includes a five-point harness, an adjustable handlebar, and removable and washable textiles.

6. Oura, “Heritage Ring in Gold” - $449

"I swear by the Oura Ring," Kloss says. "It helps track my sleep every day, giving me all the data I need to help improve my sleep quality so that I feel my very best the next morning." The Oura can track everything from sleep and fitness to stress and general health, all available to track and monitor on the brand’s app.

7. Nanit, “Nanit Pro Camera with Floor Stand” - $399.00

"I'm such a tech nerd, and this smart baby monitor is one of the best on the market," Kloss says. "It comes with its own app, so you can take a peek whenever, and it really does help take some of that stress away." Delivering 1080p HD video, the Nanit comes with built-in sound and motion alerts and has a split-screen feature that allows users to view and control two cameras at once.

you can read the article here

[fabiansteinhauer]

(Choreo-)Graphic acts

1.

Everytime something starts, the law starts too, because starting is a juridical and cultural technique.

In Warburg's sense an act may be a movement (also in the sense of animation and in the sense of something, in which/ by which movement goes through). An act may be a movement, that is giving and given a word, that is giving and given an image, that is given and giving orientiation and that is giving and given action.

Warburg starts to think of/about those acts by using the example of the mancipatio in 1896. In 1912 his thoughts on/ about the movement, that he is interested in, had made a turn, that makes his work interesting for me: He associated the movement with polarity and thought of polarity not only in terms of coping with binaries.

Polar are all those movements, in which a turn, a bend, a wind or a folding appears. Polar are movements, that appear through turning, bending, winding, sweeping or folding. The may be a psychological polarity, it may be a geographical (spacial), a historical (temporal) or a social (associating) polarity. And: the biggest polar object on earth is earth itself, bigger than the earth and a polar thing too is only the kosmos: He is turning and he turns Warburg on. 1912 he is looking at images that are calendars and that operationalize times and turns. Warburg has read Franz Boll and became a specialist for the history of astronomy and astrology - that was also the reason, why Walter Benjamin was so interested in Warburg.

2.

For Warburg times and turns were interesting, because they were a 'meteorological problem', a problem of something/ everything, of some same things, that are to measure and to calculate, but that are not easy to measure and not easy to calculate.

This problem is linked to questions that may be stabilized oder stabilizing, when and if you answer them. But the answers do not have to stabilize and be stabilized. They may get along with instability. The (choreo-)graphic acts, Warburg compared with each others were the mancipatio, the signing of the lateran treaties and a dance of people in New Mexico ("Schlangenritual"). They are the same but not equal.

Warburg is a Reinachreader. They are traces in his Zettelkasten. That he is a Reinachreader is important to know. But the most important think is to understand, how he reads him. And that is not a question of substance, of content. It is a matter of matter, a question of the materiality of reading and of the cultral techniques of reading. This is sure: Warburg does not read systematically. He read in parts and by parting and by jumping forward and backward while he is reading. The system is the total asylum, closed operations make Warburg nuts. He is a dancer, a rover, a stroller. I am sure that this is the way he reads, because everything he does he does this way.

Since i have listened to Kimberly Baltzer Jaray and since i saw her tattoos including Adolf Reinach on her legs (that is lex) i may know why Warburg is reading Reinach. Her lex and her legs let Kimberly move and let her walk the line. Now Reinach and Warburg are linked and inked. The lines that link and ink Warburg and Reinach embody that kind of transit, that Thomas Hobbes calls 'meterorological', they are letters, that let appear and let dissappear but only by moving lines and mvong the border beetween visibility and invisibility. Theses lines seem to be here and not here, but they only are in different distances. This is not a question of substantial identity, it is a question of relational affinities.

The germans used to use a verb for a movement, that directs meteorological: they used the verb lingen (ich linge, du lingst, er/sie/es lingen. This verb has an afterlife in the englisch Verb to link and in the german Word gelingen.

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