This comment is slightly judgemental, but I get the point. You don’t even have to take a class, you can read a book about the birthing process and their are plenty of websites.

There are the things you can make called padsicles, all my friends who gave birth vaginally swear by them. I made a dozen, stuck them in my freezer and then ended up with a C section. I was checked so often before they did the section that I was sore, I can’t imagine pushing a baby out after all those checks.

If you literally CAN’T do your job then you’re in the wrong profession, my dude.

Heart kids like mine should still get to enjoy the playground even though they might need a little help with the walk home later. They aren’t completely unable to move. They just tap out a little sooner. 

Someone else in the thread mentioned that their child has a heart condition. You can’t look at a child on the street and know if they have health issues so we should all probably pause before we decide the kid/parent is just lazy. 

I was with you at first on the breastfeeding into childhood. I was on the fence with the leash— my kids never needed it, but if I lived in an urban area and my kid kept running into the road or away from me in crowds, I’d try it.

I mean girth is important but we’re not looking for chodes

We can’t protect ourselves. We can’t protect our sisters from the men that hurt us. We can’t go to the police, we can’t use whisper networks.

“I’m with her” triggering Kanye’s daddy issues has got to be the most ridiculous shit I’ve heard in a minute.

This verbatim a submission I sent in to My Favorite Murder as a hometown murder story. It wasn’t picked up by Georgia and Karen but maybe it will get seen here:

This is one of the very best ghost stories I’ve read in several years of these posts, and was also such a palate-cleanser after going through way too much of the not-supernatural scary stuff.

I told a very condensed version of this in a comment to one of the Jez horror story posts maybe about five? years ago, so I’m officially submitting this now. Now with bonus pics. 

When I was around ten years old, I had some friends at my house for a sleep-over. My parents were out for the evening, so we were in the care of my Noni, my Italian grandmother, who divided her time living with us and my two aunts. We decided to play with a Ouija board and scare ourselves. We huddled in my bedroom, tur…

Hi Frida,

I once lost like 12 hours of my life to that thread and compromised my kidneys because I was too scared to get out of bed and use the bathroom.

Senior year of high school-in the eighties. My parents had moved our family to this godforsaken desert city from the Midwest the middle of my junior year. I was a fish out of water; often quite literally. Left my boyfriend in the Midwest; my first true love. We spent a few months with feverish phone calls, long love…

Not nearly as scary as some of your absolutely horrifying stories, but here’s mine. I remember it vividly and get chills every time I think about it.

Late to this party but chiming in anyway: In high school, I was thrilled to be asked to the homecoming dance by one of the star football players. The plan was to meet up after the game, then head to the gym for the dance. When I got to our designated meeting place, I was surprised to see that his entire family—mom,…

I’ve always thought of the girls from Teen Mom as being the reality TV descendants of those spirited, hellish preteen delinquents which were regular guests on shows like Maury, Ricki Lake, and Sally Jessie Raphael. Like, “My 11-year-old smokes cigarettes and throws knives at me if I tell her to go to school” or “This…