#those are the important things. abandon the notion that you should be full-functional right now

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

Depression Lifestyle Pro Tips™ for when you’re really down low

paper plates & plastic utensils

mouthwash/rubbing your teeth with a washcloth

buy a big cheap pack of socks, wear them instead of walking barefoot on dirty floors

(same thing goes for cheap underwear/tshirts. do whatever means u have clean clothes to wear)

dry shampoo & facial wipes & washcloth baths

regularly wipe the crumbs out of your bedsheets

(buy extra sets of sheets if u can afford to. if u only have the energy to do 1 laundry load, do sheets first. having clean sheets makes a big difference when you’re in bed all day)

find frozen foods you actually like. it doesn’t have to be a balanced meal, just find something microwaveable that isn’t a chore to eat. (bonus points if it involves protein/not just carbs.)

abandon the notions of “breakfast” and “dinner” foods. eat whatever works best at the moment. 

if u discover a piece of media that somehow gives u some of that sweet, sweet serotonin, wring every last drop out of it. you aren’t “wasting” time, you’re self-treating a neurochemical imbalance. it’s a stopgap measure, but hey, if it works...

just take shortcuts where u can. there’s no shame in just surviving. use whatever solutions allow u to be a little more comfortable day-to-day

#not a shitpost #serious post #depression #depression tw #mental health #do what you can. and only what you can. and then rest #find a system that is as low-effort as possible #whatever keeps you relatively clean and well-fed and somewhat comfortable #those are the important things. abandon the notion that you should be full-functional right now #no. right now your daily life needs to be on Easy Mode. in whatever form that takes #long post #u are going through ILLNESS right now #when people are ILL things needs to be made easier! #there is no shame is just surviving

[shadowturtlesstuff]

No secrets...

here is my how you get the girl cressworth. its kinda sad, i wanted to do happy but i cant apparently. the end is happy and i really want to do a part 2 in cresswells pov

The cold buries itself inside me, finding its way past my bones and gathering through me till all my thoughts are of the cold. Distracting me from what I am about to do, and I cannot figure out whether that is a good thing or not. I haven't spoken to the insufferable Mr. Thomas Cresswell for over six months, yet I am walking a familiar route to his door. I still haven't pieced together why I feel the need to see him tonight, instead of the morning but even if he shuts the door on me and leaves me to fend for myself against the rain it might calm my racing mind. He would be right to do so, after I walked away first. We were close, getting closer every day. Thomas had told  me his feelings plenty of times and I had brushed them off till I started to feel them too. I panicked and then made a mess of everything. We are both poor at expressing our feelings yet I had run from the thought of even trying, and now that I have been away I realized how important he is to me, not only as someone I love but as a friend. I miss his quick wit, his charm and dry humour that uncle doesn't think is appropriate half the time. I miss knowing I will see him and see his own smile at me. Knowing I could melt the cold heart of his with just a small comment is something I was proud of, yet began to fear slightly as it was too easy to see that smile. I had learnt that nothing in life is that easy.

I was wrong. Desperately wrong.

Now I haven't seen that smile in so long and I miss it. I miss the person who shares my humour and lets me face any challenge. I just hope he has missed me half as much as I missed him.  

My heels click against the cobblestone, my pace speeding up to match my racing heart. Thomas’s house comes into view as I round a corner and I suck in a sharp breath. Can I really face Thomas again? Tell him that I miss him?      

This is a worthless idea, a ridiculous notion that Thomas would want to talk to me now. I should leave now and get out of the rain before I become seriously ill and bed ridden by my father. The rain has drowned my skirts, my hair clings to my face. This was a fool's errand. I turn trying to swallow my embarrassment and resentment towards myself when I hear a door open. Shit. I refuse to turn and see if it’s Thomas’s and hope that it-

“Audrey Rose?”

Shit. of course luck would abandon me to this. I don't know what I expected to find when I turned back but it was not this. Thomas, my devilishly handsome friend, stands in his doorway eyes completely transfixed on me. We stand staring, the only sound surrounding us is the pouring rain and my own heartbeat which has amplified its sound so all of London can hear my fear. My anticipation, love and heartbreak and guilt. Words flood my mind but none surfice what I need to tell him and I open and close my mouth like a gaping fish. I’m sure the rain is helping reinforce me looking like such a fool. My mind repeats what an idiot I am and I begin to turn to save myself from further embarrassment.

“Come inside?” Thomas's voice fills the whole street, it sounds slightly panicked, as though he doesn't know what to say. I don't blame him. I showed up uninvited at his flat and haven't managed to look like a functioning human yet I debate leaving, even if I want to stay, but just as I make a step to leave I hear a broken please.

Once again we stare at each other, there are so many words between us that I consider that there isn't a right one to start with. Perhaps his ‘please’ is an effective start. It certainly captured my attention. The rawness of the plea makes me nod and walk towards him. I want to believe Thomas has missed me, that I meant something, but if that is the case, he should be more mad at me. So why invite me in? Why bother?    

“I saw you out the window and,” Thomas begins as I stop in front of him and wait in case he changes his mind, “I thought I was crazy at first but when I realized it truly was you I thought I'd save you, just like old times.”  

His tone is bittersweet, I wince because I am the reason it has a bitter-ish undertone laced with a hint of grief.

“Save me?” I look around slightly confused, there is no assailant chasing me, no murderer on my tail as far as I knew so what is he saving me from? My own mind, because in a way he has, or at least might.

“The rain. I know you hate the cold and no one wants to stand in the rain so,” he moves from the door and gestures inside. I look down at my dress, completely full of water and wince again.

“As you might guess, the rain has now used my dress as a sponge so if I enter your flat I will ruin it.” I take a step back, it is coward-ish but I can't ruin anything else for him, even if it is only water damage. It won't be the worst thing I've done to him.

“Wadsworth, just get inside.”

His flat is warm and makes me notice how cold I truly was. Immediately I begin shivering as Thomas gets towels, blankets and anything to warm me up.

We sit across from each other, I'm wrapped in blankets and holding onto a mug of coco for dear life as Thomas sits with one hand on his and the other tapping on his armchair. The silence is not as bad as I expected but it was never awkward silence that Thomas and I shared. Which reminds me of Thomas's previous words.

Just like old times.

Except not like old times at all. I have to say something soon and again there is no right way to start this. Sorry will not suffice or fix it, but it is still necessary. Hopefully it will mean something at least.

“I know this is unexpected and probably unwanted and it has been awhile since we spoke but,” I chance a glance at him and he is staring at his mug with an unreadable expression, I've no idea where I'm going with this speech but if I can get him to at least look at me it will be worth it, “but I've missed you and I've had time to reflect on my mistakes.”

“Wadsworth, I've missed you more than I want to admit. I spent everyday waiting to see if you would come back but now you’re here…”

He trails off, leaving me to guess what he is thinking, which is always difficult, but add my paranoia I can only expect he wants me gone. However, I wait in dreaded silence for him to collect himself and speak his mind.

“You’re here and I've no idea what I want.”

We both consider his words, it seems we are still both atrocious at understanding our feelings.

“I've figured out that I want you in my life in some way, any way, and that I was tired of running, of pretending and hiding. I was afraid, before, of what we were and even if we can never go back to that I- I guess I am not going to conform to my fear anymore.”

“I lost my mind when you were gone. I thought I had somehow pushed too far or interpreted things wrong, perhaps I had, but coming here and saying you missed me doesn't fix everything.”

“I understand the fear, Wadsworth but we were partners, no secrets, remember?”

He finally looks at me and I wish he hadn’t. His dark brown eyes pierce my already fragile heart. “I know.” I whisper, looking at my cup.

Once again I whisper I know. I knew this would only be the start of fixing things and I was grateful he was even letting me try.

“I know, no secrets,” I look at him and brace myself to confess my thoughts, “I am a fool for running, I know that now, but at the time I felt trapped, not because of you but what you represent, in a fashion, change does not come easy, but you made it feel so easy I hadn't realized the change and I had convinced myself long before you nothing was easy or fair. I was the difficult, unfair one, and I will forever be sorry, Cresswell, I would like to make it up to you but I understand if-” I let out a breath and attempt to say, if you don't want me to but I can't. It is selfish but I desperately want to make things right.

“No secrets,” Thomas says, almost to himself as he quickly stands then takes the seat right next to me, taking the coco and setting both mugs down. “You are a little insane Wadsworth,” he says with a hint of a smirk and I let the comment slide just because of that smirk, “We cannot change what has happened or fix it as quickly as we would both like but I've missed you too much to be mad. In the future we should be better at this, both of us. I never told you how petrified I felt either. My adoration of you caught me off guard. I thought I had some disease, much to Dacina’s amusement, and I considered running too but you were, are, intoxicating.” Thomas smiles at me, full of promise that I smile back. He is offering a truce of sorts through his own truth and I can't help but imagine Thomas trying to explain his feelings to his sister.

“No secrets, no running.” I offer back and he nods, taking my hand in his and absentmindedly making shapes as we sit in silence. Just like old times.

Except I ruin it with my shivers. I was so focused on Thomas I forgot I was still damp and cold.

“You know, skin to skin contact is the most efficient way of warming up, I wouldn't want you catching hypothermia when there is a simple solution.” he says, smirking fully and I roll my eyes despite my huge smile. There is the Cresswell I fell in love with.

“Scoundrel.” I remove my hand from his and place it under the blankets and nestle further back.

“I am indeed, but also a gentleman. You’re staying here till it's stopped raining. You can have my bed if you want, or the sofa. I can find some fresh clothes and dry your dress as much as possible.”

Thomas leaves the room too fast for me to formulate a sentence so I sit and mull over what has happened. It will not be like before, we have those elements but mixed with something new. I expected to fear that, but found myself excited instead. Thomas returns with a pile of clothes and sets them by me but i make no move to get them. I have only just gained some warmth and even though sitting in wet-ish clothes will be worse, I can't make myself move.

“Can you sit with me please? For a bit, then you can use your bed. I've imposed too much so the sofa is fine, thank you.” I watched him sit back in his chair and smile slightly. I missed all his little mannerisms, how he immediately sets his arm out ready to tap if he needs to. How his hair flicks down. I decide I much prefer his messy hair than neat. There is a softness to his features now that wasn't there when I first saw him tonight. He also looks tired and I consider that I should have picked a better time. Thomas is too kind to comment on that fact.

“You are not imposing Wadsworth. I will happily sit with you all night if you wish and thank you for coming. Albeit the timing is bad, you could have waited for better weather to prevent any illness but- I'm glad you came. I wanted to see you but I thought I was a coward and didn't want to face you if you didn't want to see me.”

His words hit me like a knife in the gut. We were both afraid, both controlled by our own insecurities that we both nearly never got to this stage. It is laughable at how ironic it was. Thomas and I were both convinced the other would not want to see us.

“You are right, we do need to be better,” I say and he looks over at me, “tomorrow, weather permitted, would you like to go to breakfast with me?”

“I'll make breakfast and if weather permits I'd be delighted to go to lunch with you.” Thomas tries to stifle a yawn and I ignore the tug of uneasiness that is screaming. This is too easy. Instead I lean my head back and revel in it, commit Thomas's adorable yawn to memory and agree to tomorrow's plans.

“You should go to bed Cresswell, we seem to have a long day planned tomorrow and i need to get out of my wet clothes.”

“Do I need to reiterate my method of warmth?” He asks.

“Need I reiterate what a scoundrel you are?”

“Yes, I enjoy your slight blush when you say it.”

“Goodnight Thomas.”

He stands and I watch him stretch slightly, walk so that he is facing me. Then he reaches and presses a kiss to my temple. “Goodnight Audrey Rose.”

The kiss lingers, a phantom touch that stays with me all night. Warms me enough to hold onto the hope that Thomas and I will be okay. Our spark will reignite just as, if not more, intensely than before.

@fangirling-again @kittycat2187 @goatahoan @city-of-fae @the-hoofflepooff @ink-insomnia @purplecreatorhorsewagon @boredbookwormgirl @goddess-of-writing-wars @lovecakeandmore @yikesitsmaddie @loveyatopluto @bookscressworth @androgynousdeputylawyershoe @fandomtakeover @throneoftsc

#sjtr #hpd #efh #ctd #btdp #cressworth #audrey rose wadsworth #thomas cresswell #thomas #audrey rose #wadsworth #cresswell #kerri maniscalco #i have just finished kingdom of the wicked and im making the wise decision to re-read efh and then ctd #how you get the girl

[busybby]

hello everyone! no one asked for this but notion is now my guilty pleasure so i wanted to join in on creating some notion content (you have no idea how much time i've spent watching notion youtube videos, on notiontwt, and messing with my own notion). honestly i wasn't able to find a notion setup or template that i felt was perfect for me and it took me a long time to acknowledge this and be okay with it (lol this sounds so dramatic). i wanted to use it because it seemed so helpful, but for so long it was so frustrating. i'd spend so much time trying to make it work and then never return to any pages i set up. ultimately, i had to be very intentional about notion: what i wanted to use it for, how often i wanted to use it, etc. the problem was that i felt too overwhelmed to try to just make a set up from scratch. that being said, in this post i'm going to go over not only my own set up but how i got to it.

i actually found notion via @noodledesk​ back in the spring! their posts and set up inspired me to start researching and watching youtube videos. at this point i was just using notion's built in templates. i wanted to make them more personalized, but i was still confused about notion so it didn't go well and i eventually abandoned them. then, over the summer, i rediscovered noodledesk's task prioritization template and began using that. i ended up using it for a longggg time, probably from july to october! i altered it a teeny bit and over time added a few things to personalize it more. here's a pic of how it looks as of the last time i used it!

as you can see it's basically a big grid organized by days and amount of time the task will require. there's some less organized stuff at the bottom and on top is my morning routine, a random motivational picture, a quote i like, and links to things i use daily like my google calendar.

this set up worked really well for me over the summer when i had absolutely no structure in my life, but once i was back in school and working two jobs, i found i don't need so much help prioritizing my tasks but rather a big space for me to see everything. and when i say everything, i mean literally everything.

around this time, i discovered notiontwt (notion twitter) and found sooo many beautiful spreads! they were so cute and inspired me a lot. this is one set up i attempted to use (i especially liked the weekly spread) and this is one that i made myself using a 'pack' of graphics as a kind of theme.

like i said the graphics (header and calendar) are from the artist i linked above. the fanart of harry styles is by this artist. also just something that i think is important and could be a helpful reminder is to always put sources/artists for any images or art you include at the bottom of your pages! even if you're the only one seeing the page!! also of course ask if the image is okay to use!

so i tried to use that spread for october and again... it was abandoned. i also was using it in conjunction with the priority page and an 'assignments masterlist' database i have but things were just not working. i think this is the point that i decided that i would just be creative, let things flow, and do what i wanted. i took pieces from set ups that i liked, made my own little pieces, and added them to a blank page that i titled 'my brain.' 'my brain' really helped to free up my mind. calling it that made me center the page on myself and only use things that i liked and that worked for me (& ignore all the aesthetic stuff i was seeing). i felt free to delete some things and add others even if i didn't know exactly how i wanted them to look or function. in addition, i even added a little section to that page where i wrote, "i want this to be a space of fluid exploration so i can move things around as i figure out what works best for me," as a reminder of what that page was meant to be. i also started bulking up my 'essentials page' which i'll go through another time, but it was important in creating this page and keeping it focused on my daily needs.

going into this 'project' there were a few elements i knew i liked from things i'd tried and things i'd seen. these were: images, a grid layout (from noodledesk's priority page), a full page, quotes, organization by weekday. so, the first thing i did was make these elements in my page. then i arranged them into a layout that i liked (loosely inspired by, again, noodle desk): list on the left, image on the right. this is what it looked like:

at the top, there is a callout that says "today" and it's meant to overview everything that should be in my head on that particular day or... every day. underneath there are three columns, one for tasks (check list), one for events and random thoughts (reminders) and one for general inspiration. the inspiration column has the callout with the goal of the page that i already discussed, a painting by my favorite artist, and a quote that i liked from a book i've read recently.

underneath all of that is more of a future look-ahead. i have a grid-style weekly planner and then a linked database that i use every day. i learned how to make this database from @blacklinguist​‘s post.and under all that i just have some other stuff.

so this is basically what i began working with! since, i've added sub sections to organzize my to-do list, a goal section, and a cute picture next to my weekly grid. i just added these as they came to me. for example, i wanted to do this one reading challenge but I always forget about goals because i put them deep into other pages and then forget about them. so i made a section on my main page for them!

also if it's important, the assignments masterlist is sorted by due date, but in the weekly grid i put the tasks under the day that they're due. so you can see my falling man reading is due on dec.1, but i need to actually do it before then so in the weekly grid it's under the monday heading (and tuesday but that's because i doubt i'll finish it monday). i also try to add the dates of the week to those headings so i don't get confused but usually i forget. i at least try to bold the current day. random note but that's one thing i had trouble with in a lot of the templates i was trying before. they usually only organized things by due or 'do' date, but my brain really requires both so i made sure to include that here. BUT i wasn't aware of that before. i honestly just put that into words and realized it now. that's why it's important to just add absolutely anything that you think might help you even a little bit. anywho, here it is in its current state:

and that's pretty much it! another time i can go over the other pages i use, but this is my version of what a lot of notion users call a dashboard and this is what I've put the most effort into making work for me. i hope this helps you in some way whether it's using this format exactly, taking some inspiration, or just realizing that notion is super flexible and can work for you (even if it's intimidating right now). also i'm so sorry if this is overwhelming but i think it's super satisfying lol. let me know if you have any questions or ideas and please message me about notion because i love talking about it.

#notion #notion set up #oc #studyblr #studyspo #studyblr community

[robin-hood-for-freedom]

I now present to you, my followers, the single worst article I have ever read.

TLDR: A supposed 'libertarian' is actually defending vaccine mandates.

This is actually so bad, I think its worth a full response:

If the vaccine causes no appreciable injury, can you still refuse to be injected, notwithstanding that you might be visiting significant risks on others?

For starters, thats a BIG 'if.' In fact, we know for a fact that there is a (yes very small, but not nonexistent) risk of serious harm from the vaccine in the short run, and we have no way of knowing if there will be harm 5 years from now.

But beyond that: The idea that not taking the COVID vaccine is 'visiting significant risks on others' is just...not true. Its pretty well accepted at this point that the vaccine doesnt prevent the spread of COVID, it just reduces your chance of having serious problems from it.

And that to me, is why vaccine mandates are dead on arrival. Even if we knew the vaccine was 100% safe(which is isnt), and guaranteed you wouldnt get sick from COVID(which it doesnt), it only protects you, meaning theres no 'externality' to not taking it.

Occasionally, however, advocates of limited government will condone directives to engage in benign activities (even when not cost-free) if failure to do so might cause injury to innocent bystanders. Safety requirements for nuclear power plants would be one example

This is actually a very high-level libertarian question that I dont think I should unpack here(maybe another post). But Its also not really relevant, since not taking a vaccine even if it did reduce the spread of COVID(which again it doesnt) isnt nearly as potentially harmful, nor as clearly intentional as, say building an unshielded nuclear reactor in the middle of a crowded city.

Punishing aggressive acts that have already caused damage is a routine government function. But it’s more complicated when government compels conduct that might minimize or alleviate future harm. That’s an area of the law — endangerment — where rights theory is difficult to apply. How much increased risk do I have to endure before your potentially malign failure to act can be redressed? When rights theory doesn’t provide adequate guidance, defenders of liberty often look to utilitarian, cost-benefit tradeoffs

I'm not sure I actually agree with this. But even if I did, it would have to be in the most cartoonishly extreme cases. Abandoning rights theory in favor of utilitarian cost-benefit analysis in anything less can lead to justifying all kinds of horrific shit. And applied too broadly can justify almost anything.

And, no I dont think refusing to take a vaccine(that doesnt even prevent the spread of COVID) comes anywhere near that level. To quote Jules from Pulp Fiction it ain't the same fuckin' ballpark, it ain't the same league, it ain't even the same fuckin' sport

vaccine mandates are nothing new. Wyoming, an indisputably conservative state, requires vaccines for 12 diseases if a child wants to attend either public or private school or a care facility, or participate in school-sanctioned activities.

A lot to unpack here:

First I'm against every single aspect of this, not just the vaccine mandates, but all the way down to the very existence of public schools. So this probably isnt the best example.

But even if you want to set that aside: Do you seriously not see a difference between a kid needing a vaccine to go to public school, and an adult needing one to go to the grocery store?

Also, I'm gonna go out on a limb and guess that every single one of the diseases kids need to be vaccinated for are more dangerous to them than COVID-19.

Oh and obligatory mention that the COVID vaccine doesnt prevent the spread of the virus.

More vaccinations would have slowed transmission and thereby afforded fewer opportunities for the virus to mutate.

The vaccine doesnt prevent the spread of the virus. So this is just straight up bullshit.

And even if it were true: the delta variant originated in a country(India) that hadnt had access to vaccines due to fuckery by the US government and pharma companies. So maybe you should be going after them instead of people who are understandably skeptical of a new medical treatment that we cant know the long term effects of.

Significantly, based on data from 40 states, persons fully vaccinated accounted for as little as 0.2 to 6 percent of COVID deaths, and 0.1 to 5 percent of hospitalizations.

While this might be argument for getting vaccinated(assuming those numbers are accurate, which I kinda doubt), its not an argument for forcing the vaccine on people. Since the vaccine doesnt prevent the spread of COVID, you arent reducing the risk to anybody but yourself.

Third, can we be sure that a vaccine mandate will remedy the problem? Put differently, haven’t we seen numerous breakthrough cases in which vaccinated persons have nonetheless been infected? Yes, but the key reason breakthrough cases are a growing part of the total is that we’ve vaccinated a higher percentage of the population. Most important, as noted above, people who are fully vaccinated experience far fewer hospitalizations and deaths.

All of this is completely irrelevant since the vaccine doesnt prevent the spread of COVID

Yes I'm getting tired of repeating myself, but this point cannot be emphasized enough: If you're argument for vaccine mandates is that not getting vaccinated poses a threat to others, then the fact that the vaccine dosnt prevent the spread kills your argument before it even begins.

Perhaps we should just wear masks and maintain social distancing. But the consensus is that the vaccine would still be necessary, and far more effective.

Funny thing, the CDC is saying masks and social distancing are necessary even with the vaccine because(say it with me now) the vaccine doesnt prevent the spread of COVID.

Perhaps natural immunity from contracting the disease is stronger than vaccine-induced immunity. But most studies say otherwise.

I feel like I should point out here that I've seen a lot of arguments from people on both sides of this question. And I dont have enough knowldge of immunology to be able to judge which is the correct position.

Although it wouldnt really matter if the vaccine were more effective than natural immunity, since it doesnt prevent the spread of COVID.

Perhaps a vaccine mandate can be geographically or demographically constrained. That’s an obvious consideration, which suggests that local officials be given substantial discretion in establishing the scope of any mandate.

I suppose that would be better than a national mandate. But even that much would be unjustified since the vaccine doesnt prevent the spread of COVID.

Or perhaps vaccinations could remain optional, but with restricted access to selected activities by the unvaccinated. That notion — a vaccine “passport” — has the support of nearly 82 percent of Americans, according to a recent survey.

In other news: 82% of Americans are morons who dont realize the vaccine doesnt prevent the spread of COVID.

(okay but seriously, given that almost half of all Americans arent vaccinated, I have to question the methodology of this survey).

 we are in the midst of a health emergency, which means that suitably modified, narrowly-tailored, time-limited rules may be justified.

This is a one-time thing because we are in the middle of an emergency is the justification for nearly every tyrannical act ever undertaken by governments. And to hear it coming from a supposed 'libertarian' is equal parts terrifying and nauseating.

Oh and the vaccine doesnt prevent the spread of COVID.

[never-sated]

She died at the Jewish New Year, and my family is not religious. But I had been so happy, in this time of being far from our loved ones, to be eating a Friday-night dinner next to my father, until the news came and the food that had been delicious suddenly tasted like ashes. As we quietly finished the meal, our phones buzzing with grief and shock, my father showed me the messages he was already receiving from fellow liberals and leftists, describing in vivid terms how angry they were at her.

As many mourn, others are already raging. Their fury will be loud and resonant in these next few days and weeks, a mad howling as the nation absorbs what’s to come now. Ire at this 87-year-old woman, a Supreme Court justice who had repeatedly survived cancer but did not this time, will carry many Americans through their periods of shock and despair. Scared and livid, many will rail at her: for not retiring years ago, during the administration of a president they imagine (had he not been blocked by a racist and obstructionist Senate) would have replaced her with someone qualified and just, someone who would not be eager to slam the final nail in the coffin of civil liberties, reproductive health care, LGBTQ rights, labor, voting, the climate … all of it. They will blame her, and they will blame those who created a cult of admiration around this remarkable, imperfect woman, because they will want to have people to shake their fist at, because the world is shattered and chilling and is about to get even more difficult than it already is.

This rage toward a beloved, history-making woman who just died will feel — and will be — profane and grotesque. It will be more than a little sexist, because blaming every bad outcome on an old woman you deem selfish in her professional self-determination, and on the Resistance Moms who “Yas Queen” her, is an endlessly gratifying strain of liberal misogyny.

It will also, to some degree, be fair.

Ruth Bader Ginsburg made a choice that turned out wrong. She wanted to keep doing the work she loved and was good at and that mattered; she didn’t want to stop before she was ready. Like so many others, she believed Hillary Clinton would likely win in 2016. And like so many others, she was wrong about that. Now there is a good chance that her replacement will be chosen by Donald Trump, a president who came to power on malignant racism and sexism and who will gain, in her death, the ability to offer America’s right wing what they have worked toward for 60 years: nearly full power to roll back, via the court, the disruptive gains made by the social movements of the 20th century on behalf of marginalized people.

So I understand why people will be furious at Ruth Bader Ginsburg and why they will say so loudly, in raised tones that convey their own assurance that they would have made the right choice, had they been her. Though those who are mad will not want to hear it, their reaction is made of precisely the same stuff that led people to lionize her as an outsize savior: because in the absence of structural security it is far easier to home in on individuals — as both our heroes and our villains — than it is to reckon with the enormity of what’s wrong and what needs to be righted.

These past months could not have made this dynamic any clearer: the reflexive turn to blame individuals for how they choose to behave when left adrift in the sucking, soulless chasm created by large-scale institutional infirmity.

Among the grim ironies of Ginsburg’s death is that, as Irin Carmon wrote in her beautiful obituary, Ginsburg’s obsessions with process and order stemmed from “a general belief, shared by the postwar liberalism that shaped her, that functioning institutions could provide a neutral bulwark to the excesses of the past.”

But one of the reasons her death will be as explosive and consequential as it is sure to be is that so many of our institutions are failing us, and have been purposefully perverted or used to serve regressive purpose: a Senate that broke the nation’s rules by refusing to confirm the Supreme Court pick of a sitting Democratic president; an Electoral College that served its original purpose of overturning the will of an American majority to deliver the White House to a leader committed to white supremacy; a political system that doesn’t inspire its populace to vote in critical midterm elections; a Republican Party willing to spend decades doing whatever it took to reverse legal and legislative victories that redistributed a little bit of power out of the hands of white patriarchal capitalist-fueled corporations; and a Democratic Party that did not have the will or foresight to fight as fiercely or as cannily on behalf of rights, protections, and dignity as their obstructionist opposition fought against.

Where it landed us was with a nation looking to one octogenarian to make the exact right set of decisions to make everything turn out okay. You can feel the anguished search to fill the void created by structural collapse in the words of a lawyer who told the Washington Post on Friday night, as she paid tribute to Ginsburg by coming to the Supreme Court’s plaza, “The question that keeps popping up in my head is, ‘Who is going to take care of us?’”

It was an elocution that betrayed the hunger for protections we have not been getting from our government, but Ginsburg herself was never actually in a position to take care of us. After all, she came to be widely adulated only in the period in which she was in the Court’s minority; she was issuing dissents — brilliantly lacerating, yes, but still dissents — from decisions that imperiled and weakened us.

The Voting Rights Act has already been disemboweled, reproductive health care already made inaccessible to millions, all while Ruth Bader Ginsburg sat on the Court. This does not mean that those battles are lost — they cannot be; they will not be — but it was never going to be this one woman who won them for us.The notion that our survival depended on her survival was always flawed, and betrayed how ravenous many were for any thread of hope for quiet and functional institutional correction, rather than for the mass uprising and furious battle this moment calls for. Part of the fantasy was that if she could hang on we could get back to “normal,” but normal is long past broken.

It should never have come down to her, even in our collective imagination, and whether you are absolutely sure that that’s right it shouldn’t; she was selfish and stupid for not having retired or that that’s right it shouldn’t; she was a brilliant justice who had every right to keep her job and the pushback she received for it was terribly unfair … they actually come down to the same thing: The fate of American democracy and the planet should never have rested on this one woman’s small, old shoulders.

This is what happens when the government fails, when the safety nets that have been slashed for years are gone, when there is no oversight, no one in power with the drive or backbone to fight back or organize effectively or exert authority or offer real structural support or direction. In an absence of leadership, of functional guidance, we’re all left to imagine that the decisions of other individuals are what is going to save or damn us.

This has also been the story of these last six months, as local and state and federal leadership has offered weak to nonexistent economic and medical support or assurance. A nation of unmoored people has been left to run our own risk analyses — about masks, surfaces, schools; about personal and familial safety, civic responsibility, and economic security — all based on incomplete or often purposely misleading information. The choices we individuals have made have carried their own costs and benefits, have had their own surprising and sometimes lethal consequences, and in the vacuum created by the absence of structures that were supposed to protect and support us, we have turned on each other, becoming angry at those who chose differently, poorly, who made bad bets, rather than directing our outrage at the institutions that abandoned us.

This is what I will think of when I hear the coming fury toward Ginsburg. Because the fault here was not one person. More importantly: The fix here is not one person, and it never has been. It’s not one justice, though one justice — in concert with the other two Trump has appointed, with the hundreds of federal judges a McConnell-led Senate has confirmed to lifetime appointments — will matter. It’s not even one president, though that president — in concert with the Senate and the House and the state legislatures — will matter.

Ruth Bader Ginsburg matters, now as much as she ever has, but her survival alone couldn’t have saved us, any more than getting rid of Donald Trump will save us. We are facing something far larger: a desperate, life-or-death fight to rebuild, reimagine, reform (and in some cases raze) enormous apparatuses, including our criminal justice, electoral, health-care, and education systems, labor and capitalism, education, housing, the courts themselves, and, most urgently, the health of our planet. It will call on us to fight as fiercely and with as much determination as Ginsburg herself fought, through her life and career.

That’s daunting and hard. And for some, in the face of all this, it will undoubtedly feel good and perhaps even righteous to voice frustration at the decisions made by one woman — extraordinary, ordinary, important, and now sadly gone. But that’s not the work, and it’s not going to work to get us anywhere in the perilous days to come. Instead, we have to address what is really broken, which is not just our hearts and our spirits: It’s the frail systems in which Ruth Bader Ginsburg wanted so badly to believe. She’s gone and it is up to us to undertake the demanding revolutionary work of remaking them, this time stronger and more just.

#I kept trying to pull quotes #but the whole piece is so damn good

[blancheludis]

A/N: @stony-week, day 5: confessions

Fandom: Marvel, Avengers Relationship: Tony Stark / Steve Rogers Tags: Family, Established Relationship, Kid Peter, Nightmares, H/C, Fluff

Summary: Peter has a nightmare. Since Tony is not there, it falls to Steve to make him feel safe. 

---

The bed is too empty with only Steve in it. It is late but he is never able to sleep well when Tony is not there. They have established a routine of going to bed together, even if Tony gets up again later to get in some more hours in the workshop. Those first hours of the night are theirs, just like they drink their first coffee of the day together. These small things make their life together sometimes seem too good to be true.

So Steve is reading in bed when a sudden sense of wrongness overcomes him. Looking up, he startles when he finds Peter standing in the door to their bedroom, eyes red-rimmed, his hand clenched around his teddy. He is wearing one of Tony’s shirts and absolutely swims in it.

Steve is immediately worried. He loves Peter but he does not know how to deal with children. Usually, Peter is happy and full of cheer, always ready to explore the world. He seldom needs entertainment and often seems older than he is, already so smart. The world still is too big at times, especially for a five-year-old.

“What’s up, buddy?” Steve asks in a gentle tone, sitting up in bed. He has to hold himself back from jumping right to his feet to look for danger. Panic will likely not make Peter any less upset. “Why aren’t you in bed?”

Peter shuffles forward, just a small step. “Where’s Dad?” His voice sounds choked on tears and the kind of pure need that has Steve’s chest constricting.

Tony once confessed to Steve that he is terrified of being a bad father. From Steve’s point of view, that notion is ridiculous. Peter is everything to Tony. It does not matter how stressful things are at Stark Industries, how much work Tony has to do, how many deadlines he has to meet, he always takes time for Peter.

It has taken an eternity for Tony to leave Steve alone with Peter. Not necessarily out of distrust, but mostly because he did not want Peter to think he was getting tired of him, leaving him with strangers.

The more important it is for Steve to not mess things up now.

“Tony has to work tonight, remember?” Steve says, putting an emphasis on work. That is something Peter understands. No matter his young age, the workshop is already his favourite place. It is where the magic happens. “Aunt Pepper dragged him out earlier because he was trying to get out of it.”

Steve’s admittedly weak attempt at humour does not elicit as much as a twitch on Peter’s face. Instead, he crosses his arms in front of him, hugging his teddy close.

“I want my dad,” Peter exclaims unhappily.

Steve can practically hear new tears spring to the child’s eyes. With measures movements, Steve turns to put his feet on the ground. He does not get up yet, unsure whether he should perhaps wait for Peter to come to him.

“What happened?” Steve asks. When Tony left, Peter had already been sleeping soundly. Nothing particularly upsetting had happened this day either. “Did you have a bad dream?”

Peter hesitates before he nods his head. It seems like he avoids looking at Steve. Meanwhile, Steve is relieved. He remembers being terrified of sleeping when his ma was working the night shift, but she ultimately always came home. Nightmares are something they can deal with. Peter is not hurt or sick and that is all that matters.

“When’s Dad coming home?” Peter asks, sniffing quietly. He is still standing in the doorway, looking ready to run.

“Very soon,” Steve says, swallowing his I hope. He pulls the blanket back on Tony’s side of the bed. “Why don’t you come here and we’ll wait together.”

Steve does not expect Peter to jump at the opportunity and come running into his arms, but it is easy to admit that the way he remains frozen in place hurts a bit. Rationally, it is only logical. Steve is just the man Peter’s father brought home one night and introduced as someone who would stay with them. Forever is such a long time, especially for a child.

He tells himself to remain patient. If Peter wants to go back to his own room, they can work with that too. JARVIS is always there to watch over him, and Tony will be here within minutes if Steve tells him he is needed.

What feels like an eternity later, Peter comes into the room. The closer he comes to the bed, the more hurried his steps become. Deep down, Steve feels warm at having been deemed safe.

Steve helps Peter settle on the free side of the bed, pulling the blanket up around his shoulders once he is fully lying down. Despite never having imagined himself having children, the motions feel strangely familiar, comforting even.

Once they are both tucked in, Steve looks at Peter with what he hopes is a reassuring smile. “Do you want to tell me what you dreamed about?”

Immediately, Peter’s face closes off. “You’re not my dad.”

Steve winces in sympathy. He remembers having such a close connection to a parent. “No,” he says, not letting that near-rejection discourage him, “but I sometimes have bad dreams too.”

This confession visibly surprises Peter. “You do?” The quiver is not quite gone from his voice, but some curiosity has returned to his eyes.

“Yes. And I know why you want your dad.” Perhaps Steve should try to leave Tony out of the conversation, lest he makes his absence even more glaringly obvious, but they can hardly bond over the nature of Steve’s nightmares. “Tony helps me feel better after a bad dream too.”

“Does he tell you stories?” Peter asks, glancing at the book Steve has abandoned.

“Sometimes.” Steve smiles. Tony has a talent of turning his voice into a light Steve can follow back to reality. It does not even matter what he is talking about as long as he does not stop. “Sometimes he just holds me.”

Peter nods seriously but does not make a move to ask for either of those things. Instead, he looks up shyly. “Can we call him?”

Pepper is going to murder them if they cause Tony to leave this function, since it took her weeks to convince Tony to come in the first place. If they prove now that Peter does not want to stay home with just Steve, she will have a hard time getting Tony out ever again.

Still, Steve knows there is only one right thing to do. “Of course,” he says. “JARVIS, would you be so kind?”

One dial tone is all it takes for Tony to pick up. “What happened?” He sounds slightly out of breath and like he is steeling himself for bad news, but the moment his voice fills the air, Peter relaxes. His lip trembles as if he is going to cry again, although tears of relief this time.

“We’re all right, honey,” Steve says quickly to ban the worst fears from Tony’s mind immediately. They do not need Tony speeding here recklessly. “But we’re missing you.”

Before Tony can answer, Peter pipes up, “When are you coming home, Daddy?”

The way Tony’s voice changes whenever he is talking to his son will never cease to amaze Steve. All at once, it goes soft, full of love. The very moment Steve first heard Tony talking like that dissipated all his worries about entering a relationship with the infamous billionaire. His mother used to talk to Steve like that. To him, it is a sign of a good person.

“You’re sounding upset, underoos,” Tony says, all his attention shifting towards his son. The background noise through the phone cuts off abruptly, meaning he has gone somewhere private and is ready to leave if he has to. “Did Steve try to cook dinner again?”

“No.” Something very close to a giggle escapes Peter’s mouth, causing some of the weight to be lifted from Steve’s chest. If it hurts this much for him to see Peter in distress, he cannot imagine how it must be for Tony. “I had a bad dream.”

“And you went to Steve. That’s a very good idea,” Tony answers at once in a praising tone. “He always cheers me up when I’m sad too.”

“He’s helping,” Peter says, smiling shyly up at Steve.

Not for the first time, Steve realizes that he would do anything for this kid. Not just now, when he looks small and young and afraid. Peter’s well-being has become as important as Tony’s to him.

Incredibly gentle, Tony asks, “Want to tell me about it?”

“I dreamt –” Peter hiccups, half-burying his face against the pillow. “I dreamt you weren’t coming home.”

Steve is not surprised. Peter has already lost his mother, who kissed him goodbye one morning and went on a plane that crashed barely an hour after take-off. Despite his age, Peter is already familiar with grief and the fear that comes from the mere thought of losing more.

“Of course, I’m coming home, Peter,” Tony promises. “I won’t ever leave you.” There is that determination to make the world a better place for Peter, a safe place. “Also we have Steve to protect us.”

Goosebumps rise on Steve’s arm as he hears his own name said in Tony’s soft voice. This is not just for Peter’s sake. Sometimes Tony looks at him with that same once-in-a-lifetime wonder that makes Steve question what he did to deserve something this good.

“He’s not there with you,” Peter argues stubbornly. It might be an instinctive response but he shifts a little closer towards Steve. Not yet close enough for Steve to deem it safe to offer comfort, but they are getting there.

“But Aunt Natasha is,” Tony says with a smile audible in his voice, “and she’s a lot stronger than Steve. She’ll get me home to you.”

Natasha had been Steve’s idea. No matter how much Tony resents the idea, he is a public figure and therefore a target. He is rather tight-lipped about how many close calls or actual kidnappings he has endured, but when Steve stopped an attempt made by a group of masked men after one of their dates, Tony showed himself more amenable to the idea of protection. All Steve had to do then was mention Peter, and now there is no social function or press release or even dinner where no one is watching over him.

“Promise?” Peter asks, sounding so very young.

“Always.” Tony’s answer comes so promptly and so sure that it seems impossible that, during some bad nights, he has clung to Steve, worrying that he will never do right by Peter. “Do you need me to come right now?”

The expression on Peter’s face makes it obvious that he wants to say yes, but hearing his dad’s voice has already helped so much that he hesitates. “Won’t Auntie Pepper be mad?”

Steve knows she will make a show of it because someone has to think of Stark Industries. In the end, though, she is just as protective of Peter as everyone else who knows him.

“Not if I need to leave for you.”

Steve recognizes the urgency in Tony’s tone. Peter’s answer will not change much, Tony is already on his way, no matter what investor or board member he is going to anger with it. Peter will always come first.

Smiling shakily, Peter says, “I can wait for you with Steve.” This time he moves intentionally closer, trusting that Steve will open his arms for him. When he settles against Steve, it feels like the world has become infinitely lighter and impossibly heavy at the same time.

“That’s good,” Tony says. In a cheerful tone, he adds, “Make him tell you a story about Uncle Clint’s circus days. He can shoot arrows with his feet, did you know that?”

Peter looks up at Steve with big eyes, a smile tugging at his lips. “Love you, Dad.”

“Keep my bed warm until I’m home.”

Steve is not disappointed that Tony does not say anything to him. This was all about Peter, after all, and it will be only a matter of time until Tony is home. In fact, it is even a show of trust that Tony lets him deal with the situation on his own, without any last tips or orders.

Silence washes over them, making Steve acutely feel Tony’s sudden absence. He glances at Peter, trying to hide his worry. Only somewhat surprised, he sees that it was unfounded. Much less tense, Peter snuggles closer into Steve’s arms, then looks up at him with big eyes.

“Can Uncle Clint really do that?” he asks, his voice not as small anymore but finally curious again.

“I’ve seen it with my own eyes,” Steve says eagerly. He sends a silent thank you to Tony for giving him something specific to entertain Peter with. If he had to come up with something on his own, he might have just made things worse again.

Steve launches into the story. Since Clint is the main protagonists, he does not even have to embellish much. The archer is just that crazy.

It does not take long for Peter to fall asleep with a small smile on his face. It feels like an accomplishment to have made him feel safe again, even if Tony did most of the work.

Only now that the excitement of the night is finally over, does Steve allow himself to analyse the tension knotting his shoulders. The weight of Peter is heavy in his arms, but it is not exactly unpleasant. It just comes with so much responsibility that Steve is not sure he is ready for. Tony says the same, though, and he is brilliant with his son. Being a parent seems to be all about tackling problems without ever being sure one is ready for them.

Steve is not Peter’s parent, of course. They have such a strange family, thrown together without regards to blood or sense that it does not matter much. Steve is here now, and he is here to stay. He is not Peter’s father, but he already loves him.

Half an hour later, Tony arrives slightly breathless in their bedroom. He stops short in the doorway, smiling at the picture presenting itself to him: Peter curled up against Steve’s side. Steve knows the softness he feels must be visible on his face. Tony’s expression dissipates his last worries of him overstepping.

Without much ceremony, Tony takes off his clothes. The expensive suit lands in a heap on the floor. For once, Steve does not have the heart to scold Tony for that. Every movement shows Tony’s impatience to be done with it and join his family.

He fishes a shirt and fresh boxers out of a drawer, manages to put both of them on inside-out, and comes to a halt before the bed. His face is so incredibly soft that Steve’s fingers itch for paper and coal to immortalize this expression.

“Thank you,” Tony says as he lays down, careful not to wake his son.

“Always,” Steve answers. He wonders how to thank Tony in return for giving him this, this family, this chance at happiness. In the ends, he decides no words are needed. He shifts slightly to put an arm over Peter to pull Tony closer until they are all three touching, keeping each other safe. This is everything. This is home.

#stonyweek #fanfiction #stony #steve rogers #tony stark #peter parker #iron dad #family #nightmares #kid peter #superfamily #marvel #my writing #ao3 #confessions

[cecillewhite]

How Is Digital Transformation Shaping Customer Experience?

EDITOR’S NOTE:  Because extended enterprise learning involves multiple disciplines, we sometimes ask other experts to share their insights with our readers. Today we feature insights about customer experience from Daniel Newman, Principal Analyst at Futurum Research and CEO of Broadsuite Media Group. Daniel is an author, speaker, blogger and educator who works with leading technology brands to help businesses around the world embrace the benefits of digital transformation.

  Some organizations assume that digital transformation is about efficiency – saving time and money, beating competitors to market or snagging customers with fancy apps. They’re wrong.

As I’ve often said, digital transformation is about one thing – creating business value by improving customer experience. Fortunately, many companies are starting to realize that this is a smart strategy. Here’s what stellar customer experience management looks like as digital transformation heads toward 2020:

5 Ways to Elevate Customer Experience Through Digital Transformation

1) Recognize that customer experience is everyone’s job

Think back to the last time you had a fulfilling customer experience. Can you even remember? Too many customers still struggle with a jumble of illogical phone trees, frustrating chatbots, glitchy apps and disorganized online documentation. Customers don’t want more – they want better.

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So, what if you decided to dig deep and exceed expectations? What if you were relentless about transforming today’s fragmented customer experience to a seamless web-to-mobile digital experience that actually works? No doubt, you’d rocket to the top of your industry.

For organizations to achieve their goals, every team member has to be committed. Providing an outstanding customer experience requires the same level of commitment. That’s how inextricably linked your business goals and customer experience need to be.

Indeed, customer experience is such an important aspect of differentiation that it can no longer be siloed inside your marketing or sales functions. It needs to be a full-scale, top-down/bottom-up, across-the-board objective for every person in your organization. The secret is in creating a culture that empowers all employees to fulfill that mission.

One company that excels at this is Nordstrom. The mobile app and online presence are easy to navigate, and in recent years, I’ve enjoyed being able to buy something online and pick it up in the store on the same day. Plus, when I encounter an issue with a purchase or I can’t find something I want, employees – both in-store and online – consistently go above and beyond to help.

With its customer-centered culture at the core of its digital transformation, Nordstrom continues to set the standard for customer experience excellence.

2) Let go of how you think your company should operate

If you say that customers are a priority, but you don’t actually accept customer feedback, isn’t that like – lying? After all, as the saying goes, the customer is always right. So the smartest way to improve is to know what customers want, even before they tell you.

That’s why companies need to abandon preconceived notions about customers, and instead become experts at learning about customers’ true needs, preferences and behaviors.

Research shows that 66% of CEOs plan to change their business model in the next three years. Are you willing to do that? Leaders today need to practice a type of healthy detachment, trusting that customer expectations and customer experience technology will work together to inform the company’s direction.

For instance, consider an example from Netflix. In January, the streaming video service provider announced that it was discontinuing the popular sitcom Friends. But thanks to an immediate uproar from customers and fans, Netflix quickly changed its mind and invested heavily to keep Friends in its programming line-up.

This may seem like a minor incident to people who don’t yet subscribe to streaming media services. However, it’s a great example of listening to your customers – and giving them what they want.

Of course, the whole fiasco might have been avoided if Netflix had been more proactive in assessing customer preferences. But better late than never.

3) Automate – again and again

You know how it’s difficult to be friendly, happy, and service-focused when you’re burned-out and stressed-out? That’s probably how your front-line employees feel.

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That’s why you should think about how to free-up their cognitive load for more business-critical activities by introducing robotic process automation whenever possible.

What kind of benefit can you expect? One bank found that 85 bots could do the same work as 200 employees, for only 30% of the cost.

Those numbers are impressive, but here’s what they don’t show:  The increase in time available to better-serve customers when employees no longer had to perform mind-numbing, redundant procedures.

Automation isn’t just about saving time or money. It’s also about adding value by increasing the quantity and quality human time available to strengthen customer relationships.

4) Take care of customer data as if it’s your own

What’s the fastest way to lose customers? Hurt them. Compromise their personal information. Allow their bank or credit card data to be hacked and hoarded. It’s not pretty. But it’s true.

This point doesn’t need a lengthy explanation. We’ve all seen high-profile examples of companies that tanked when they failed to protect customer data.

In 2019 there are no more excuses for overlooking this cornerstone of customer experience management. Every digital transformation roadmap requires a rock-solid commitment to protect customer data privacy and security.

And if a breach happens, you need to be transparent and own your responsibility. Organizations can no longer afford to wait for months while customer trust evaporates. When faced with a scandal or crisis, it pays to be more like Tylenol, than Toyota.

5) Align your efforts

With digital transformation, there are so many forces at work that, even with automation, it can feel incredibly overwhelming. That’s why so many companies are also moving toward digital experience management tools to keep their data and efforts organized.

Digital experience management can help handle tasks like personalization, language translation, content management across channels, analytics and even ROI. I’d go so far as to say it will become a necessity for companies that are leading the digital transformation pack this year.

Next Steps

These customer experience priorities may seem overwhelming. After all, digital transformation touches so many corners of an organization. And now you’re being challenged to make it happen faster and easier – while customers play an active role in the process.

It’s a lot to take in, let alone manage. But there’s also some good news. First, most companies aren’t winning on this front yet. That means you probably have some wiggle room – not just to improve customer experience, but to differentiate your company from your competitors.

Second, when we look at digital transformation through the lens of customer experience, everything becomes much clearer. Tech acquisitions, product development, staffing decisions and journey mapping – all are informed by customer imperatives.

This sharper perspective, alone, can improve your organization’s efficiencies, costs and overall reputation. And along the way, customer experience will benefit, too.

  EDITOR’S NOTE: This post has been adapted, with permission, from a post published on the Futurum blog.

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How to Reduce Time-to-Value with Modern Customer Training

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Indoctrinating customers as quickly as possible is a smart business move. But exactly when should you start, how fast should you move and how can you be sure that your onboarding process makes a real difference?

Join John Leh, CEO and Lead Analyst at Talented Learning, and Samma Hafeez, Vice President of Customer Success at Thought Industries, as they explain how to accelerate customer time-to-value. You’ll learn:

What “onboarding” a customer really means

The critical relationship between onboarding and time-to-value

How quick wins and clear milestones drive engagement and adoption

How learning pathways strengthen the onboarding experience

Tips for metrics that align customer objectives with business priorities 

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[thestoryweneededtowrite]

The Sprace Zombie Apocalypse AU No One Asked For!

I don’t know why this happened. I’ve gone so angsty lately, I’m so sorry :’) This is literally a zombie apocalypse AU. Enjoy? (Is enjoy the right word???)

tw: mentions of suicide

“Race?” Spot said, shaking his boyfriend’s shoulder and trying to wake him up.

His voice cut through the silence of the compound. It was the middle of the night and the only people who were awake were the lookouts. Spot had been trying to sleep too, but his arm had been itching so much that eventually he’d lit one of the lanterns to see what was the matter. When he realised what it was, he knew what he had to do. “Shhh,” Race complained, trying to pull Spot back down beside him on the mattress. They didn’t have the fanciest room in the world but it was functional and it was theirs, which was more than some of the other survivors could say. He wanted to make full use of that room and get some sleep before they had to be up and start their chores (‘tasks!’ Katherine’s voice rang in his ear to correct him. He just rolled over.).

Spot wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep next to Race and not have anything more to worry about then when he was next on latrine cleaning duty, but everything had suddenly changed and Race needed to hear what he had to say.

“No, it’s important. Listen to me,” he ordered.

This might have been easier to do whilst Race was still asleep, but Spot had to talk to him first.

The stern tone of Spot’s voice had Race forcing his eyes open. Something serious was clearly happening but the sirens weren’t going off so there couldn’t have been a breach.

“Wha..?” he began, struggling to form words when his mind hadn’t quite reestablished contact with his muscles.

As soon as Spot was sure Race was lucid enough to understand him, he moved from the bed and grabbed a bag, stuffing a few bare essentials in.

“I need to leave,” he explained through gritted teeth.

Race sat up, rubbing sleep from his eyes and trying to focus. “It’s the middle of the night,” he protested. Whatever Spot had suddenly decided was so important could wait a couple of hours. Just as he was about to lie back down, Spot abandoned his packing and sat on the bed beside Race. “I got bitten,” he said simply.

Bile suddenly rushed into Race’s throat. He was wide awake now. There was no mistaking what those words, those horrific, nightmarish words, meant and he’d spent every day hoping neither of them would ever have to say them. He suddenly registered the fear in Spot’s eyes and everything became real.

“What?” he stammered, dumbly. Spot didn’t want to repeat himself so he just pushed up his sleeve to show Race the mark on his arm, already angry and red. Race kicked off the bed sheet and kneeled next to Spot, taking his hands as if that would stop him from going. “No. No, no, no, no, no. When?” he demanded, like it made a difference.

Spot just shrugged. It had to be recent, or he would have noticed it sooner. And the last time he’d come into contact with the Infected was earlier that day on a supplies raid. He’d had what he’d assumed was a close call, barely getting away from one group. Apparently it was a far closer call than he’d realised.

“The raid today, I guess,” he explained. His throat was thick with tears he was refusing to cry. He didn’t want Race to remember him as weepy and emotional.

Race just tightened his grip on Spot’s hands. This was inevitable, he knew that, but that didn’t mean he could reconcile himself to it happening so easily. Because this wasn’t some girl on the compound he barely knew, or some guy who’d tried to be a hero and ended up the victim. This was Spot.

“No, you can’t,” he protested. Spot couldn’t leave, Race was adamant.

Spot just shook his head slowly and sadly. “You know I don’t have a choice,” he said gently.

It was compound policy, they’d both agreed to it when they’d joined up. If anyone became aware they’d been bitten then it was their responsibility to get as far away from the compound as possible before they became Infected themselves. Spot wouldn’t put Race and his friends in danger because he was too weak to do what he’d always agreed he would. It was for the best.

Race climbed to his feet, grabbing his own rucksack. “I’m coming with you,” he said determinedly. He couldn’t think of anything else to do. Spot couldn’t stay, that much was true, but there was no rule stopping him from leaving too.

Spot put a hand on Race’s shoulder to ground him. Usually he would have kissed him instead but he was suddenly afraid to touch his skin at all. It was irrational, he knew he wouldn’t be infectious himself yet, but he couldn’t help the burning desire to make sure Race was okay.

“You’re not sick,” he tried to reason.

Race just shook his head. “I don’t care,” he argued, straightening up his backpack and glaring back and trying to pretend there weren’t tears spilling from the corners of his eyes. He took a step towards the door.

“Race, don’t you dare-” Spot started, wanting to grab his hand and pull him back but not letting himself. Race was too important to risk.

“I’m not letting you go alone!” Race shouted as loud as dared, aware there were other people sleeping nearby. He didn’t want to wake anyone else up – this was very much a private conversation.

Spot looked at Race stood there so ready to give up his health and his life so Spot didn’t have to walk out the intimidating iron gates by himself, and suddenly the tears he’d been holding back refused to wait any longer. They streamed down his cheeks and Race’s heart broke. He’d never seen Spot so upset and so frightened.

“I don’t want you to die,” Spot whispered, not convinced he could raise his voice any louder. His legs buckled and he collapsed back onto their bed, the reality of what was happening just too overwhelming.

Race was at his side in a moment, brushing away his tears with no second thought that Spot might be infectious. It didn’t matter anyway – he couldn’t just let him cry.

“I don’t want you to die either,” Race mumbled back, kissing Spot’s cheek as if that could stop the tears. “I have about a week.”

Spot’s words were cold. There was no exact time frame, it all depended on health and age and natural resilience, along with a myriad of things they hadn’t even begun to uncover, but at some point in the next seven days he was going to stop being Spot and start being an Infected. It wasn’t technically death, but it was as good as. He would remember barely anything, so far as they could tell, and would be solely focused on harming others. Even Race. Especially Race. “If you come with me I’ll hurt you. Please, I don’t want to. I can’t,” Spot reasoned. He didn’t want Race to see him as an Infected, but he particularly didn’t want to be the one to condemn him to the same fate. “You won’t,” Race said confidently, but even he knew the words were a lie as he let them out.

Spot smiled sadly at Race’s attempts, but it was useless. There was a theory, and just a theory but that was enough to make it a concern, that Infecteds who’d loved someone as humans went looking for them. It was the only way to explain how many people recognised Infecteds that seemed to be coming after them personally as people from their past who they’d been married to or engaged to. Race wasn’t his husband or his fiancé but Spot couldn’t imagine a stronger love. If he really would remember some notion of Race that made him want to come back for him, Race would never be safe again. So he had a plan. “I won’t be me, I won’t have a choice. I’m going to… end it. I don’t want to come back here like that,” he said quietly, unable to meet Race’s eyes.

There was a heavy silence, one Race didn’t know how to fill. Spot becoming an Infected was bad, but Spot killing himself so he wouldn’t become an Infected just so Race was safe? That felt awful. It felt like it was his fault.

“Spot…” he tried, but he couldn’t find the words. Instead he grabbed his boyfriend’s hand and squeezed tightly. “We can find a cure, we can-” he began desperately, but Spot cut him off.

“They’ve been trying for years. It’s not going to happen in a couple of days,” he said. It was the cold reality of the world they lived in. Race wouldn’t be the first person left behind and there were so many like him who had turned their efforts to attempts to research a cure but so far, as Spot understood it, they were out of leads and had gotten nowhere. That wasn’t going to change overnight.

Race pulled Spot into a hug, not wanting to let him go. “I love you. I love you so fucking much. I can’t get through this without you,” he mumbled, the words muffled against Spot’s neck.

Spot hugged him back, unable to stop himself. He traced what he hoped were soothing circles onto Race’s back and tried to be reassuring when he was barely keeping himself together. “Yeah you can. You’ve got this. You’re going to be fine. Please, stay safe and move on.”

Race just scoffed at the last comment. He couldn’t imagine ever forgetting Spot, ever allowing someone else to take Spot’s place in his bed and his arms and his heart. “One more night. Please,” he begged, pulling out of the hug to try and implore Spot with his eyes.

“It’s too much of a risk,” Spot sighed.

He wanted to stay. Just 24 hours more of being with Race and being normal, but it wasn’t unheard of for someone who’d been bitten to take less time than that to turn into an Infected. It was too selfish to risk Race and everyone else at the compound getting Infected just because he wanted to hold his boyfriend some more. There were kids there. If Les got Infected he’d never forgive himself. “But I love you,” Race pouted, as if that should change things. Spot wished it could. “I love you, too,” Spot admitted. It was something he rarely said, but now it didn’t seem like there was time to say it enough.

“This isn’t fair,” Race groaned, frustrated. Why Spot? Why now? Why was this entire plague happening to the world at all? It was over a year since he last remembered some semblance of normality and even then it had been peppered with breaking news reports of the infection hitting yet another country. “No one said it was,” Spot agreed. Then he sighed and shook his head. “This is my fault. I was too careless today, I-”

Race stopped him with a kiss, wincing when Spot pulled out of it quickly, a flash of terror behind his eyes.

“Shut up. You brought back what we needed. Medicines, food. You were brilliant,” Race assured him, trying to forget that fear in Spot’s eyes. He knew he was carrying the infection and he didn’t want to spread it, but that meant Race wasn’t sure if he’d ever get a proper kiss from Spot again.

A grateful smile was about all Spot could offer. He knew he had to leave and he was willing his legs to stand but they just wouldn’t obey. “I don’t want to go,” he whispered. It was too hard. “I won’t tell you to.” “You should.”

“I can’t.” “I’m scared.” “Me too.”

The world suddenly seemed huge and empty and Spot had never felt more alone. This was the end. Keeping Race’s gaze he slowly climbed to his feet and shouldered his rucksack. He wouldn’t need much from it but he’d added a knife that seemed sharp enough to help him chose an alternative fate than becoming one of the Infected. He’d left Race with the gun, it would do him more good.

“Tell Jack what happened? Please,” he asked, aware his voice was trembling.

Race stood up and grabbed Spot’s hands again, not quite ready to let go.

“Yeah, I will,” he promised, but he wasn’t sure how he’d be able to make it through that conversation. “Tell him I’m sorry I was an idiot,” Spot said, forcing a note of laughter. He was trying to make this lighter, but it was the heaviest things had ever been and there was no way to escape that.

Race took a long look at Spot and thought about what he was about to lose. They’d been in this together from the start and he couldn’t imagine going on alone.

“You were what I was hoping for. After all this was over, it was just meant to be you and me. No end of the world. No imminent danger,” he recalled softly, tears in his eyes again as he did. “You can have all that without me,” Spot promised. The end of his life wasn’t the end of Race’s –that was what he was trying to ensure.

But Race just shook his head. Without Spot in the picture it didn’t seem like a future worth having. “I don’t want it,” he said stubbornly. “This isn’t a suicide pact. You’re going to live and see everything get better and have all the stuff you said you wanted. For me. Please.”

If Spot had been the begging type it would have been then that he’d have been reduced to it. But instead he fashioned his words as an order, it was the only way there was even a chance Race might listen. He tried to take his hands back but Race clung on tightly. “I can’t watch you go,” Race said.

Spot nodded, he got it. He knew he would have felt exactly the same if their roles were reversed. So he came up with a plan. “Close your eyes,” he whispered.

Race did, because he could still feel Spot was there. Then Spot’s hands were gone and Race cried out, about to open his eyes until there were suddenly light fingers brushing away the tear tracks on his cheeks and cupping his jaw, and that was okay. Spot kissed him softly, and then a little less softly. Just enough that when he stepped back he had a few seconds to get out of the room before Race reoriented himself and opened his eyes. When he did, Spot was gone.

#newsies #newsies fanfiction #sprace #spot conlon #racetrack higgins #spot/race #i feel the need to apologise #I'm sorry if this makes people cry like the Javid Labels one did #tw: sucide mention

[trishgibsontx]

how to heal by protecting your inner child

photo by Jennifer Santaniello

we are comprised not only of our 2018 versions of self, but of ALL years in existence of self. conjure the image of a paper  mache doll and imagine you are infinite dimensional and tangible flutters in it. since we are not one-dimensional, we are walking around all day and night with past versions of self. most of us have barely integrated ANY of these selves. this is evidenced with the tactile, 3d reality that we are still connected to. we seek outside of ourselves for “healing” and “help” because we are too afraid to look at what is already there…

each of those paper mache flutters represents a memory, a dimension/aka specific point in time, and other persons. our emotions are informed by our ego (survival) messaging, which is informed by our *experiences*. when we suffer unconscionable abuse or experience, we automatically fragment in order to psychologically survive. the structure of that fragmentation looks like big walls around our synapses that connect the emotional and intellectual processing of said experiences. we then walk around with labyrinth-type walls around our day-to-day experiences, having trouble integrating some of the most basic functioning around xyz aspect of our lives. for each of us, the aspects can be extremely different; yet with severe PTSD we will share in common certain denominators…

the denominators include all aspects of moving forward in life. they show up differently for each person and they show up in every category. for example: achieving a dream via actualizing a talent or gift; pursuing and enjoying a romantic partnership; losing weight or optimizing physical health. when we suffer ridiculous abuse, it is the chemical within the BODY that sends a signal to the brain to “stop”. and so, we usually just stop. we can not be smart enough to find space around this. my CBT with individuals centers around finding this space, as we pursue the unconscious mind and bridge it with the conscious and current self. which requires “remembering”… which is typically shrouded in PTSD…

last night I had another personal breakthrough psychotherapy session. I’ve been having pointed breakthroughs over this last month or so. so, perhaps I have been in another personal cycle of evolution and that is why I have not written many blog posts as of late. during this particular session, we noted one of my most shameful cycles: holding myself hostage to people, places, and things. yet this particular cycle is one that has been so present since my first breath, that I did not acknowledge it until last night. at least not in this new way. imagine that!? anyhow, it is the cycle of having nothing and no one. sound strange? I know. it sounds strange writing it. for example I have a thriving business. I have tons of friends. I have no shortage of interest from romantic prospects. I earn an excellent income. I am in excellent physical shape. I appreciate the way that I look. I feel spiritually FULL. I can wake up happy every single day (because of the work I have already done on myself). what could be missing? this: I have been trained to be left with absolutely nothing, and especially nothing that does not first belong to someone else.  I can see that my therapist is very protective over me. because I have never been protected in life (speaking in logistical 3d terms). when I garner something for myself, my adrenals (the hallmark chemical adrenaline in the body that says “this is unfamiliar! so this is dangerous!”) work overtime to discard all of my fruitful efforts by disintegrating their byproduct. more on that in a bit…

after a strong hug and two kisses from my beloved therapist, and a warning to please stay away from all in the past that has set me up to die (spiritually, emotionally, psychologically and then physically), I randomly turned on Kenny G’s “Songbird” and headed home to ponder such a magnificent session. I would also like to note, that digging into trauma and releasing unfortunate patterns does not color my over-arching emotions or present-day conscious life/reckoning, at least on the surface; meaning that as a result of deep therapy and self-seeking, I do not become depressed or feel inadequate — in fact I feel the opposite…relief and Universal support…as I subsequently realize that my tiny brain and body could not help themselves back then, but they can now. at any rate, “Songbird” was apparently a huge hit in my young life and upon hearing it, I began to recall more repressed memories. tied to the very thing that I unlocked last night in therapy.

as listened to the song, a feeling washed over me that my young self in 1987 was sitting there with me. she must have heard that song 1000 times on the radio that year, and I only last night for the first time had any recall of what that time actually felt like for her as a being. I tried, consciously, many times already, to remember her. that doesn’t work. and if it were that easy, we would all be running around as stable, happy, healthy and extremely successful individuals. and so point is, that the epiphanies that had surfaced in therapy made it safe enough for her to join me on my ride home. I rode all of the way home with her sitting by my side, and I cried for her. I cried for her, because I missed her. it has been so long since it was safe enough for her to be with me. I thought about the constant reminder of my therapist, to stay away from that which seeks to destroy me in life — a decision that I actually made, on my own, prior to even entering therapy (which has been the most gratifying and abundant experience imaginable over the last few years). when we create distance between us and that which seeks to destroy us, it is only then that our inner child is even remotely safe enough to peek his/her head of the door and down the hallway. if the hallway is busy, or if we are still in trauma aka denial of true inner self (meaning we can not move forward in life in one way or another!), the child will go back in. these are my metaphors, by the way, the ones I see visually in my mind’s eye, when I explain this process. last night that particular dimensional self not only poked her head into the hallway, but she walked into it and down to my 2018 door.

the agreements within that child ran so deep. she had agreed to be silent for fear of being hit at random, either across the face at dinner or punched in the stomach or dragged out of bed by her hair in the middle of the night while in an otherwise dead sleep. did you know that’s an actual effective form of torture, designed to completely control a person and their mind? the agreement to be silent contributed to her fear of press and media opportunity until recently. the agreement to be silent was present when she was an actor on ABC, and it took every spore of energy just to show up as the fear of dissolution of self seemed imminent once her episodes aired. like most things in life though, she felt this fear and did xyz anyhow. these were steps toward obliterating that fear and getting to the layer underneath the fear. other fears in that child that I met with last night: she had agreed to have absolutely nothing for herself. if everyone around her was not completely happy, then she did not deserve to have anything. she had agreed to have nothing for fear of being either shamed, or completely ignored and abandoned. when she was an actor on ABC, she was told to keep the news “under her hat”, because “people don’t want to hear good news in a bad economy”. into adulthood, she believed that she should silence all part of herself. all of the messages that young girl who met me last night straight out of 1987 had received were not only corrupt and corrosive, but still very active in recent conscious memory. I talked with her about why she was terrified of having abundance. since she had agreed to have nothing so early on in life, this agreement was later met with reinforcements throughout her early 20s whenever she attempted to provide for herself. during multiple attempts to provide for herself, those controlling the agreements from a very early age made certain to destabilize every single attempt. nearly every attempt to be a sovereign being was met with chaotic abuse, and punishment through mind-control games and jealousy. over the past number of years, this version of her/myself would find any way possible to disintegrate personal resources that should have been enjoyed by the fruits of very hard work. yet, she could not see how she was disintegrating these opportunities in order to FREE herself from the enactments of the only patterns and messages that she ever had around personal resources. in restricting personal resources, there was the notion that she would always have to work — day and night — with no break ever. the fear associated with this pattern was tremendous, and last night she met with me to remind me of their entry point. and in order to even meet this 1987 child, I had to make myself extremely vulnerable and raw with someone whom my unconscious mind still probably does not fully trust. it’s ok, I’m conscious of that

in order to make myself vulnerable, I had to go right to my shame over this past month. as humans we typically bypass ANY and all feelings of shame. if we didn’t, none of us would have ANY problems at all! so it’s either go right to the shame, or repeat the pattern for life. now, shame is elusive. it’s covered up with other people’s fake words and actions, designed to keep us there. shame is an illusion, but if we are young enough, we will buy into it. and we will keep buying into it in order to survive for the rest of our lives. until we become conscious enough to see it for what it is worth. most people I know have shame. in fact, I do not know anyone who does not carry deep and repressed shame in one category of life. it is important to note that in order to identify this shame, we have to admit the one thing that we can not stop doing. for some of us, it is an eating disorder, substance issue, or OCD issue. for me it was none of the above; for me, it was the fact that I could not stop giving. and, in fact, it went a step beyond giving — it went into the territory of truly having nothing for myself. and so my shame was centered around finding ways to make sure that I was left with nothing, no matter what I’ve done in life. the illusive thing with shame is, that we can THINK on the surface whatever we want. we convince ourselves, and we can even convince others. but underneath that surface are the things that make us hurt in secret. for me, it has been a pattern of withholding from self. I’ve made certain to spread my resources so thinly that even though I could have purchased a house or two at this point, it’s been more important to make sure I focus on getting rid of it — OR ELSE…or else is the ultimate, unconscious threat, and it is as real as this blog post. I could not stop holding myself hostage, only to have to (perceivably) keep working for the rest of my life — and with no outside support. it is only when our inner child is under true threat of annihilation that we can cover the enactment with shame, and then hide it from ourselves and the world. this is because shame saves our lives — it saves our lives by making traumatic events OUR FAULT. as I always say: it is easier for the psyche to feel safe (i.e. feel shame) than to see the truth…the truth being, in this case, that the traumatic events and unthinkable abuse were not actually my fault.

last night the little girl explained to me that she had no choice in order to survive her environment, than to decide she would die if she had anything for her sovereign self. and although I felt like saying to her, “haven’t we been over this!? I mean, we have had SO many breakthroughs, why this suddenly NOW and not sooner?”,  I recognized that her will to live was something to be respected and touched on delicately. she just wanted to live, period, even if she had to do so in a most uncomfortable fashion. she did not know, that there was another way…(*I*, the 2018 me, did not know, that there was another way)…a way besides draining every cell in her body to accommodate…someone else. I’m speaking about extremely unconscious levels, by the way — the levels Oprah spoke about what she struggled with weight. it’s the unconscious level that is buried so deeply, no drug or chemical or ashram or meditation can reveal it. this is the bottom concrete level of our very being — the last foundation before we drill through it and completely integrate all aspects of our conscious and unconscious minds on a particular theme.

the most illusive aspect of getting there ^^ is thinking that there is actually no other possibility — so it can even be extremely frustrating to discuss with a therapist. and it is a chemical so tightly locked that we literally can not hear another person when they spell it out for us (I have seen this countless times in my sessions). it is the chemical of survival. and when it is the byproduct of severe PTSD, we have a really low chance of accessing it, because we are so afraid of it. despite logic.

so, how do we heal by protecting our inner child? we first have to find the things that make us feel childlike. that’s actually not that hard. I’ve already outlined above some of the ways that we hold ourselves back. other things to look at are chemical disorders (like bipolar etc, and really go in and address them outside of taking a pill), specific fears (like being alone, can’t be single), or addictions (to people or things). though I feel grateful to have escaped all of the latter, I was still a sucker for making sure I was always left empty in life. but I had to first note that which made me feel childlike, which was depleting myself in ALL ways — as that was the one, consistent hallmark of my childhood. nothing like coming up empty could call the important part of my inner child into that room last night to have a chat with my therapist and I. and although there are too many supporting examples and traumas to count in accordance with explaining it, it was the most simple, surface and basic example that I had to greet. I was allowed to greet it because I opened one of my most guarded vaults, surrounded by pure shame, masquerading as protection but actually existing as severe punishment for being who I am.

if you think any of this sounds simple, or that we can meet ourselves on the external plane and work that way, you are wrong. true healing runs super deep, and we all need it (especially men). our resistance of such turns into all kinds of other things/shameful behaviors that are actually not very elusive to us OR those around us. sometimes they take the form of illness. but they all start and end in the mind. if we are to actually go there, deep into the sea of the unconscious, we find that we were little. we were defenseless. we were not supposed to do better at that time, because we could not. and so we go ahead and make ourselves safe, safe enough to heal, in two ways…

we must first be far along enough on our journey to acknowledge who and what is not good for us. I do not care if this is a relative, a friend, a family friend, an employer or anyone else who is abusive. if we are in communication with them, our odds of being completely healthy are none. if we can get this far, then we have taken the first step of clearing the hallway for that little girl or boy. after we have cleared the hallway, we get to the fun part. we get to the part that tied us to the abuse in the first place: the pattern. whatever that pattern was (again I’ve outlined many examples above). the little girl or boy now feels safe enough to tell us why the pattern is there. if we can brave the feeling of shame that has covered up the truth or the true origin of the pattern, we will see that it was never ours and it was never about us. and we will finally give ourselves permission to stop hurting ourselves. and we allow those who hurt us, to now feel the one thing we have carried on their behalf: HURT. we release the fear that if we have xyz, or if we are free from xyz, that we will die at the command of those who decided we belonged to them and that their sickness belonged to us.

last night I gave myself and my 1987 self permission to have things for myself. I gave her permission to share herself with the world, but to have things. to have anything at all. and in doing so I changed my childhood again. which changes today. which puts me one step or even many steps closer to a completely new life that my eyes and heart have dreamed of but never seen. and my life is pretty great despite it all. I’ll keep making sure of that.

  The post how to heal by protecting your inner child appeared first on © The Medical Intuitive Blog: Healing Elaine®.

from Trisha Gibson http://www.themedicalintuitiveblog.com/2018/05/19/how-to-heal-by-protecting-your-inner-child/

[pepapiggoodde24-blog]

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By stacking on business kids' play doh peppa pig toys, you're mailing a definite content to mom and dad - you're contemplating their efficiency for people days or weeks after they can't lower their kids with grandpa and grandma, or if the nanny's on holiday. You'll obtain your customers' long lasting gratitude, their repeated appointments, as well as the income, obviously.

Employing child-helpful strategies makes any company or company business happen in synch with the requirements of today's parents. This increases the establishment's optimistic picture.

But before anything at all is completed about youngsters in the office or enterprise business, personnel ought to be prepared and conditioned for the inclusion of kids, and place of work plans should be re-established to fit youngsters inside the plan.

Doing work Mums and kids

Like a manager, it is unavoidable that some mums ask you regarding your policy relating to bringing youngsters to perform, if no person can keep up with the young children in the home. You should be aware that the office is already accommodating related needs, check all those business kids' Peppa Pig em portugues brasil toy just to determine if you can find Peppa Pig em Portugues toys for a variety of age range and character.

Your office also need to have day care facilities for preschoolers. These must be far from the sound of machineries, substances, and workplace website traffic. Review your existing guidelines or re-line-up these to make space for working mothers who definitely have to take their youngsters to operate once in a while or on the long term foundation.

There are also other reasons why mothers and fathers deliver your older young children to operate. They want those to discover how they're undertaking while they are out of the house. Youngsters be able to appreciate why mommy or daddy is always out during the day. In the workplace, you may show them close to just before they catch up with the exciting pyramids, enjoy cubes, together with other taking in place of work kids' peppa pig kids toy.

Your Customers' Comfort

Your customers appear and disappear, and you'd enjoy having them for regulars. So think just like a mommy who desires a pedicure or maybe a specialist shampoo or conditioner, but can't get points done because there's no one to take within the kids when you're in the hair salon.

  You'll have visions of content little ones tinkering with peppa pig playthings in the office playroom with a participate in supervisor observing around them as the mommies have a soothing pedicure and foot hot tub. Imagine the earnings shed when shoppers go some place else where there are play-doh toy to entertain their youngsters.

Doing business with your organization or working for you becomes a satisfaction on your buyers and personnel. You possess what it requires to make doing work moms and dads and their children content - business kids' elsa toy of each dimensions, style and design, and colour.

Create your business a favorite quit for parents with little ones. Add charm to your home with business kids' peppa pig dublado toy and complete your hardwood toy toys chest area with an increase of Peppa Pig em portugues brasil toys. It is possible to provide the flourishing musicians the chance at the children's craft easels. Go to RonJuneShop.com to find the best in kids peppa pig toys toy.