Ask Lemmy
A Fediverse community for open-ended, thought provoking questions
Rules: (interactive)
1) Be nice and; have fun
Doxxing, trolling, sealioning, racism, and toxicity are not welcomed in AskLemmy. Remember what your mother said: if you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all. In addition, the site-wide Lemmy.world terms of service also apply here. Please familiarize yourself with them
2) All posts must end with a '?'
This is sort of like Jeopardy. Please phrase all post titles in the form of a proper question ending with ?
3) No spam
Please do not flood the community with nonsense. Actual suspected spammers will be banned on site. No astroturfing.
4) NSFW is okay, within reason
Just remember to tag posts with either a content warning or a [NSFW] tag. Overtly sexual posts are not allowed, please direct them to either !asklemmyafterdark@lemmy.world or !asklemmynsfw@lemmynsfw.com.
NSFW comments should be restricted to posts tagged [NSFW].
5) This is not a support community.
It is not a place for 'how do I?', type questions.
If you have any questions regarding the site itself or would like to report a community, please direct them to Lemmy.world Support or email info@lemmy.world. For other questions check our partnered communities list, or use the search function.
6) No US Politics.
Please don't post about current US Politics. If you need to do this, try !politicaldiscussion@lemmy.world or !askusa@discuss.online
Reminder: The terms of service apply here too.
Partnered Communities:
Logo design credit goes to: tubbadu
view the rest of the comments
I work full time and do most of the cleaning, cooking, and kid stuff. My wife is handicapped and several months into recovering from a major surgery that didn't go well, and she's only recently starting to pick up the slack again. I'm exhausted. I feel like our home is wasted because it's never clean enough to enjoy it. I use what energy I have on the important things like making sure my kids have healthy meals, but that means letting other things fall by the wayside, like basic repairs and mopping.
But I'm happy. I love my family. I love spending time with them. Every once in a while I can just sit back and be grateful for all the things that have gone right in my life.
And at least once a week my kids do something genuinely hilarious.
Lately my two-year-old son has been doing this baby talk thing, copying his sister who was copying from a video she saw of herself as a baby. So we've been gently reminding him that we don't do baby talk in our house. No baby talk.
The other day, I heard my wife singing Baby, baby, baby... in a way that was unmistakably Celine Dion's "It's All Coming Back to Me", except then she'd suddenly transition into Smokey Robinson's "Tracks of My Tears". I heard her do this three separate times throughout the day. Then she did it in the car and I pointed out that she was definitely doing the wrong baby, baby, baby.
She disagreed. Phones came out. Songs were played.
"See? It goes Baby, BAby,"
"No it's Baby, baby, baby..."
"No, that's too flat. You're doing Baby, baby, baby, but it's Baby, BAby-"
Then my son interrupts from the back seat: "Stop it! No baby talk!"