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My ex ruined my finances and has left me shouldering a load that is typically carried by two. I am always waiting for child support that never arrives or paying my lawyer to pursue what should be paid while he lives a lavish lifestyle funded by his parents. He gets away with everything. The kids live with me 100% of the time and he visits them once a week. I work FT but the amount I make is not enough. I’ve been applying for higher paying jobs but no luck. I feel trapped underneath a mountain of responsibilities that never allow me to do anything. The guilt of leaving my kids in the evening to do something just for myself is crushing and the cost of hiring a babysitter and getting out of the house for adult interaction is almost impossible.
Parenting solo is hard. The game changes daily as my kids grow. For married parents, there’s at least another adult to talk things out with and to share the burden of making tough decisions. I bear the weight of all of those tough calls alone and the emotional burden has worn me down.
I constantly feel guilty about the financial things I can’t provide and guilty about the things I just can’t do because of my situation. I worry daily about the effect of being raised by a single mother is having on my kids and feel terrible. I am lonely, tired and feel defeated.

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Hello frugal fam! Need some input on a situation that I can't figure out what the best move would be. My wife and I bought a car last year, and financed a little under $19k at 1.9%. We have $30k in savings that we have been saving up for a down payment on a house (we plan on moving in 1.5 to 2 years). after 1 year of payments toward the car we owe $15,200 left.
Should we just pay off the loan and roll the payment amount into saving to rebuild, or is it better to just keep the loan? Total interest paid last year was $212.

Seems like ReddX enjoyed the last story he narrated, and people here seem to want more... Far be it from me to deny you that all-too-enticing hit of cringe, so we'll get after is again today. Before we do though, I'd like to invite you into my head. It might help explain my reaction (or lack of one) to the previous dating nightmare. I was young, I was raised by alcoholic parents, and I was taught that speaking up about anything only brings trouble.
I don't need pity, I've been to therapy and moved past it for the most part, it's simply to shed some light on why I remained so passive through these events. Truth be told, this series of strange and awful dates slowly helped to bring me out of the shell that I'd built for myself, so it was all happening for a reason I guess... but we aren't there quite yet.
Dean was the worst date, but he wasn't the first date that I subjected to myself from Tinder. No, that honor belongs to Ben the Bellybutton Boy. Cast lists are unnecessary, TLDR is at the end. Let's get the cringe-train rolling.
Ben's profile wasn't very intricate. A single line about wanting something meaningful, which doesn't hold much water for me anymore... but I was 18 and naïve. Some might say that I was also fairly shallow. In one picture he was drinking a Natty Ice, in another he had on a backwards hat. I was close to swiping left on yet another bro-dude and carrying on... But then I got one look at Ben with his shirt off and I was hooked.
It might be a catfish, but for a body like that? I was more than willing to take my shot. Suffice to say, that he was a gorgeous human being. I should've been looking more than skin deep though, because Ben had some deep dark secrets. He did match with me though, and I was super flattered. We had a meandering conversation. I learned that he loves his mom, and is absolutely terrified of horror movies. Those things will come into play later. He didn't seem to have much to say that was interesting or clever, but I let it all slide. Ben's abs were blinders, a 3 pack on each side.
He seemed to push for a meetup rather fast, which usually made me go ghost in the few Tinder conversations I'd had before... But I thought to myself that now I was finally ready for an actual date with an internet stranger. Maybe he was way more interesting in person. (He was interesting, but not in the way that I'd hoped.) The fact that his body was chiseled from granite-turned-flesh had nothing to do with my decision. Again, isn't it funny the lies that we tell ourselves?
Ben wanted me to come over to his place and stupidly, I agreed to do so. We'd only been talking for about a week, and now I was going to deliver myself to his front door? Walk right into the wolf-den and hope for the best? God... I swear, I'd love to shake the living shit out of my past-self... but I truly didn't know better at the time. Maybe we would actually watch some Netflix and chill? Could he actually be looking for something meaningful?
Ben's place was in a lower-middle-class section of the LA outskirts. At the time, I thought it looked pretty busted but compared to some of my later encounters? It wasn't the worst house. Sort of non-descript and uninteresting, but well-maintained... much like Ben himself, I suppose. I scoped it out for a few minutes. Surfboards on the porch, a few potted plants, a bench-seat out front. It seemed very normal, so I collected myself, headed up to the front door, and knocked.
Ben answered and he was all smiles. He lifted my arm above my head and I gave him a little twirl. After a wolf-whistle, he commented that he'd like to see something that showed a bit more of my midriff. He gestured for me to show my stomach to him, and I did. I didn't mind. I put work into it. A strong body starts with a strong core. Ben seemed satisfied. Maybe a bit more than that in hindsight. His eyes devoured me, but he was a hunk. So I didn't mind. His predatory nature would soon be revealed to me, but I had no idea what I was in for quite yet. Instead, I let him scoop me up into a hug before he invited me inside.
The house was sort of bohemian. Lots of incense holders and dreamcatchers. Definitely not the sort of thing I'd pick, but he was a stoner-surfer bro-dude. Maybe all of this stuff was just evidence of a more sensitive side to him? I asked about some of the knick-knacks, just trying to initiate idle conversation and maybe dig past the surface level. It worked a bit. He ended up telling me about spending time in India. He seemed to harbor a lot of disdain for the country. Said people were shitting all in the streets and he couldn't find clean water anywhere. "It's like Mexico with way more poop and a few less beheadings."
I laughed. The line wasn't that funny, but the laugh also served to diffuse some of the tense atmosphere that had been created after endless jabs about everything from the caste system to the "dirty" street food and everything in between. He didn't overly-focus on a lack of attention from women, but it was mentioned. I made a mental note. Ben definitely had some entitlement issues, and with that rage simmering below the surface? It could be an explosive combination. I made a note to mind my P's and Q's and shifted the subject, asking what he had planned for Netflix.
He led me to the couch without answering and handed me the remote. "I'll leave that up to you. I've gotta finish preparing the feast." There had been a couple of red-flags so far, but nothing that would make me go screaming into the night. At least, not yet. I hit 'surprise me' on Netflix, and Ben came back into the room with a platter covered in fish. They were sardines. Even before my seafood surprise from part 1, I wasn't a huge fan of fish. Ben saw the look on my face and presumed that he should explain his dining choices. I really wish that he hadn't.
"I try to eat sardines and pineapple almost exclusively because I'm load-maxxing." he said with a nod.
I thought it was a weight-lifting term, and I just sort of nodded... but my face must've still look quizzical because he continued.
"You know how some male porn stars can shoot like the biggest loads of jizz? I think that's super hot, and I wanna be able to do that... But also have it taste good too. Not that I'm gay or anything, I don't eat my own cum like some [redacted] but I just think it's super sexy when a girl is enjoying herself. I'm also taking selenium supplements and it's totally working. I can fill up a whole shot glass now. Before I started load-maxxing it was just like, this sad little poot of semen... But now I'm shooting ropes of the stuff! I might show you later, if you're lucky."
I frowned and shook my head, but I don't think he took much notice of it as he went to work obliterating those smelly, oily little fishies. I didn't speak up, but like any sane person... I knew that I had to make my escape. However, due to the constraints of the social contract that we've all unwillingly signed, I'd need to bide my time and find the proper strategy. I definitely didn't want to have this jizzed up meathead explode in my face, if you'll excuse the pun. You don't just declare war, y'know? You prime the press, you square things with the UN, you make up your reasons.
The 'surprise me' movie that I can't remember rolled on, and he offered me the fish-plate. I politely declined. My brain was occupied with the perfect exit, and hunger is a decent motivator even aside from the unpredictable meatball that I was seated next to. Truth be told? I should've just blitzed the front door and not bothered to explain myself. He might get upset, but I'd be safe in the car... But then I wouldn't have this story to share.
Eventually, the sardines all went to meet poopoo-Jesus and he leaned back on the couch. He snaked his hand onto my shoulder and pulled me backwards. I wasn't in the mood to cuddle so I'd scoot away, then he'd inch closer. I hated every second of this awkward little dance, but the strangeness got turned up to 11 when he started running his oily unwashed fish-fingers around my bellybutton. I squirmed away and stood up. I told him that this was all getting to be a little bit too much, too soon... but Bellybutton Boy wasn't about to let me escape that easily.
He stood up in that same moment and blocked the walkway to the front door. He asked me to please sit back down while at the same time 'guiding' me by the shoulders. He was far too forceful for my liking. It was a gentle pull into his arm, a gentle push back into the couch... But this was our first date. I've seen things like this before between my own parents. This toolbox is one bad argument away from throwing a cinderblock at the back of my head. I took a deep breath and used my go-to tactic of avoiding conflict at that time: submission.
As I sat back onto the couch, he dropped to his knees. I was expecting the worst to happen, but instead he started to baby-talk me... Which is still pretty fucking bad.
"Does wittle Dawnie want to see baby Ben's tongue? I can wick your wittle bewwybutton. Then maybe we can go pway wiff somefing ewse. My woad is about to expwode..."
I still wonder if he meant for it to rhyme. It was effective, in a way. I still remember those words many years later. The thousand-yard stare I had adopted as my defense started to gaze through time and space. Trying to find any reality that wasn't this one. Just because my body was stuck there, didn't mean that my brain had to be... So I disconnected as much as possible, but even Terri Schiavo would take notice of the horror that would befall me next.
I suppose baby Ben the bellybutton bully boy took my silence and disaffected staring at the ceiling as consent, because he lifted my shirt enough to expose my bellybutton. The first this he did was give it a really deep sniff before letting out a satisfied "ohhhh yeahhhh". Was he looking for a good scent? A bad one? Was he just THAT excited to unveil the mysterious allure of a teenage navel? The debate rages on until this very day. It doesn't matter much, because he didn't stop at smelling it.
His tongue slipped into that umbilical scar and started to explore. I never wanted this. I didn't consent at any point, but I didn't outright say "NO" either. I've unpacked this experience with multiple therapists. I think what I remember most vividly was looking down and seeing his oily fish lips. They were sucking on my stomach like my navel was the last source of oxygen on the planet. I recall seeing his tongue, covered in the desiccated and masticated remains of a sardine meal, fishing around for whatever the hell it was he wanted. He kept muttering to himself between spelunking expeditions, weird shit like "ooo baby wike your bewwy" and "mama make benny's peepee so hawd".
The cringe-meter was redlining, and I finally realized that he wasn't going to stop unless I made him stop. I told him that I had to pee, and that he should PLEASE drink some water. I was hoping it might wash away some of the sardine leftovers, if I really did need to come back. At this point, my plan was to bail out the bathroom window. Until I got to the bathroom and saw that the window was only about 6 inches tall. Just enough to air out sardine-and-selenium-laden ploppers, but not enough to do me any good.
I must've stood in that bathroom for 20 minutes or so. There was no escape. If I wanted out, I'd need to go through. Just as a reminder from the universe, every once in a while I'd hear Ben let out a large belch. At least he was washing his fishy mouth out. I steeled myself and headed back into the living room. I lied that I had a text from my mom and had to leave, but Ben wrapped his arms around me and begged to finish. I could clearly smell beer on his breath. Memories of dear old dad must've kicked in, because I found myself agreeing to sit on the couch again.
He continued rubbing his stale-beer-smelling mouth all over my stomach, except this time there was the added benefits of pauses to burp every so often. "Doesn't dat sound wike a echo mama?" I truly did want to die in that moment. I had to find some way to at least pump the brakes, if not bail out completely. I squirmed away from him, again. I told him this was moving too fast, again. He didn't ignore me this time. So I suggested that we watch a new movie. This time I chose a Chucky movie. Either he would get scared and give me an out, or I'd pretend to be scared and make the exit for myself.
If I knew how he'd actually react, I might not have taken this measure. The moment the movie started Ben was immobilized. He had stopped trying to molest my bellybutton. All he did was apply a nervous death-grip the arm of the sofa. I asked if he was OK, but he insisted he was fine. He was not fine however, and after the first murder I looked over to see tears rolling down his cheeks.
This was my moment. It was either act like a cold-hard bitch, or continue being assaulted. I asked incredulously, "ARE YOU CRYING??" He nodded and started his whining baby-talk, but he didn't follow me as I leapt from the couch, called him a sissy, and flung the front door open. I quickly walked to my car. My brain had second thoughts, but I started the ignition. I legitimately wanted things to work with Ben. I would've been mommy. Whatever. But he didn't ask for consent at any point and was overly-pushy about everything he wanted.
While I felt bad about doing that to Ben, and piling an insult on top of it... I felt much more delight than despair. This situation was headed for a place that I didn't want it to go, and I was able to scratch and claw my way back to freedom. The bellybutton boy had unveiled his Achilles heel as a silly talking point, and I thanked my lucky stars that I was able to use that to my advantage. He could've flown into a rage over it, but he didn't. The guardian angel on my shoulder was working overtime on that day, I have no doubts about that. Looking back, should I have called the cops and reported him? Probably. Instead, I just thanked my lucky stars and tried to move past it in my own way...
You'd think that would be the end of this tale, but there was a follow-up to the bad date. Remember when I mentioned that Ben was close to his mother? Well, she charged into battle in defense of her little bellybutton man... I answered the first time she called. I wouldn't make that mistake again. She accused me of abusing her special boy, she threatened me with everything from death to lawsuits, she slung every curse under the sun at me. After 5 minutes, I realized I was trying to talk sense into a lunatic and blocked her number.
Bellybutton matriarch wasn't done yet though... I would get sporadic VOIP calls for weeks afterwards. She contacted my job to report me. She attempted to harass MY mom and every other contact she could find. I suppose that's the unfortunate part of social media. I explained to everyone what had happened and they all agreed that she was completely unhinged. Luckily, it seemed like her harassment was confined to the internet. I went dark for a month, and I guess she found a new target. Ben wouldn't have trouble getting more dates, even if he was a certified navel-gazer.
It was at this point that I swore off of Tinder for the first time. That wouldn't stop me from meeting up with maniacs though. My therapist says that I demonstrate a concerning amount of thrill-seeking behavior, and that these encounters are a manifestation of that. While I don't disagree 100%, I still think I overanalyze and avoid uncertainty in a lot of other areas of my life. Maybe the comments will let me know how they feel about that diagnosis?
Speaking of therapy... In hindsight, I can absolutely see how that insane woman could've produced a self-absorbed, baby-talking dunderhead. If you look at it through that frame then the tale of Ben the bellybutton boy takes on a much more depressing tone. He's like a modern-day Frankenstein, but he does still bear some responsibility for his actions. At least, that's what I tell myself when I start feeling guilty.
I did manage to stay of Tinder for a while, but in our next installment we are headed to Craigslist. Be afraid. Those are tales for another day though... Thanks to ReddX if he reads this. Please subscribe to him on YouTube if ya haven't. I'll see you again next time my little Tinderlings. -Dawn
TL;DR Lunatic lugnut baby-talks my bellybutton with his fish-lips.

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I don’t know if this is the right place to ask.
The house next door to us is a rental. Joined to our walls and the neighbour the opposite sides wall also.
The landlord and landlady are utter assholes. We’ve had over the last 15+ years a drunken guy shouting yelling daily, two 21 year olds who insisted they needed loud music and tv to sleep, year after them old lady who had music and tv playing ALL DAY LONG I am not kidding , loudly enough yiu heard the words, her autistic grandson would get dumped there and he would meltdown for six hours straight screaming crying with her ignoring him ( I am also autistic so this hurt me both sensory and emotionally knowing his distress of meltdowns)
I Ended up so distressed on a daily basis that I developed gastritis, ran away from the home multiple times and even begged to die because of constant sensory overload.
She left, new neighbour, moved in October time. Who is now banging in there every week, multiple days a week loudly. It’s rented so he’s not working on the property, there’s a big garden space he could use for working in seeing as there’s not a garage for the house where it wouldn’t echo around our entire bloody house.
I’m autistic really really struggle with noise but this is very very loud banging as in I’ve tried wearing earplugs and headphones over the top, I even have to do so to sleep nighttime and still get woken early by him some days. I have chronic illness too so I need sleep in the day and I’m trying to run my own shop from home too.
Would you say it’s reasonable to expect the work done outside ? The walls of these houses are very thin also not like proper thick walls which makes it worse.
I’ve just truly had enough. The worst part is the landlord KNOWS my noise struggles because they had the audacity to come knock and insist were the problem for them losing money to search for a new tennant when they let anyone stay there as long as they’re earning money.

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Myself and my partner currently live in a two bedroom masionette with our 18 month old son. We bought two years ago for £272,000 and our mortgage repayments are affordable at £800 a month (although we need to remortgage by the end of August).
We love our house, but are not close to any friends/family and I have a 45min-1 hour commute every day to and from work. My partner works from home (baring an office day once a week) and looks after our son 3 days a week (we pay for him to go to nursery 2 days a week at £600ish a month).
We are both keen to move back to where I was raised and where lots of our friend and family live. However it is a much more expensive area of suburban London (looking at £450,000-550,000 for a 3 bedroom house). We also want to have another baby sooner rather than later, so we would like more space.
We have looked into it and if we sold our property and pooled all of our savings we would have a deposit of roughly £100,000, thus if we bought a property for £500,000 our monthly repayments would be somewhere in the region of £1,700-1,900 with current interest rates. My partner has said she thinks this is affordable as we will be closer to my work, so won't have to pay as much for fuel. Also we would be closer to my parents who could help out with childcare.
I'm a teacher so currently my monthly take home is £2,700 and my partners is £3,500. We've figured out a budget and it seems like this would be affordable just about with some money left to build up our savings again.
Do you think we are being naive with this? If interest rates keep rising at the rate they are currently it could be unafforadable come remortgaging in 2-5 years. Also with us wanting to have another baby soon, my partner would be on maternity leave (which is very generous with her job) but since she is the higher earner I worry that we might struggle eventually. In an emergency I could opt out of my teacher pension, but I would want to avoid that.
Am I being too pessimistic? Is this a terrible time to be thinking about upsizing?

I lost my job a month ago due to it being a toxic environment and I’m struggling to find a new job. At first I wasn’t worried because I had a couple months or rent saved and I thought I’d be able to get a new job(I work mostly retail). Unfortunately I live in a bilingual area and I only speak English, this has caused a lot of problems with me trying to find work. My partner is making ok money so I don’t think he’s too worried about bills, but I don’t want to depend on him to pay them. Before anyone says I’m not trying hard enough, I apply to jobs every day and typically have an interview or two every week. I even recently went in person to store to apply. Even with all of this I can’t find a job. My last effort is to apply for a fast food job, I’ve been avoiding this because I’ve worked in it before and had only horrible experiences, but if I have nothing by the end of the week that’s what I’ll have to do. My partner has been amazing through this but I can’t help feeling like a failure in this relationship. I try to focus on taking care of our house and cook for him to make up for the fact that I’m not working, but with the time it takes for job applications and dealing with life aside from that I feel like I’m slacking on domestic duties too. I could use some advice as I don’t really have anyone to talk to about this. My partner and I have great and open communication, but I almost feel like I don’t want to put the idea in his head that I’m not doing enough, if that makes sense. Do you think I’m over thinking this? Do you think he’ll start resenting me?

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About 16 months ago my dad passed away. His house went to my mom. There were some repairs and squatters in it at the time. I kind of let it get away from me. It is now ready to be sold. I personally put about $80000 towards it. We will get about 120000$. My mom has agreed to give me my part with no disputes. I am just curious about the taxes that are going to come along with it and how I can get the most of my money. Everything and everyone is in North Carolina besides me who resides in California.

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Thoughts on this?
My view is I’m disappointed. This is a once in a generation redevelopment of this site and I think the City Council should be linking up with this and complementing it with a masterplan for the wider Fallowfield area. It’s so scruffy, and seems to be lacking general direction, other than being a bit of a ‘party town’.
The Uni should also be a bit more ambitious and deliver something more dense, and mixed accommodation - including for second/third years and post grads - to take pressure off the local housing stock.
Kinda just feels like the Council has given up on Fallowfield and is just letting it get scruffier and scruffier, propped up by the student population which doesn’t have much option but to accept it.
https://www.placenorthwest.co.uk/uom-looks-to-reignites-fallowfield-campus-overhaul/

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I was just scrolling YouTube when I scrolled past a phineas and ferb video. Do any of you remember doofenschmirts?
His parents didn't care enough about him to show up at his own birth lol. It doesn't even make sense. They really wanted a girl for their second child so his mom made lots of dresses and they were disappointed when it was a boy but instead of buying or making Heinz clothes they forced him to wear the dresses.
As a tradition you have to jump off a high dive board to prove you're a real man in doof's country. Doof couldn't jump so his father pretty much disowned him. They basically abandoned him in the woods. Oh there was the time he was made the house gnome because his family went broke and sold their gnomes and he couldn't move an inch otherwise they'd punish him.
Now his brother. He was the golden child. He was favored above Heinz and recieved all the love Heinz didn't get. There's obviously lots and lots to doofenschmirts back story but it's funny how one of the shows I watched as a kid depicted narcissistic parents. I never knew. It just seemed so crazy that it didn't seem real. But it is real as many of us had that kind of upbringing.
Heinz was the scapegoat and Rodger the GC.
Heinz used his YEARLY SALARY to win a stuffed toy for his mom. His mom turned around and immediately gave it to roger and wrote his name on the toy and their mom claiming it as theirs alone. Fuxk that's my childhood.
He went through all that and despite the evil inventions he turned out a good dad and a good man having a decent relationship with his ex wife. I think I need to rewatch a couple of episodes.

I’m really hungry

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