A significant turning point in many people’s lives is becoming parents. Another human person needs you to be there for them at all times, and they depend entirely on you. However, not everyone is prepared for this level of accountability.
Continue reading to learn more.Angie Setlak was really anxious when she was expecting her son, Xavier. She tried to devote all of her attention to their young son because her partner had been unfaithful.
She had imagined that all would change after the baby boy was born, but that fantasy quickly gave way to a nightmare. She got a message from her partner one day. She didn’t have much time to save their son’s life once she received the message.The worst fear for any parent is that their small child may suffer harm.
No matter how big or small your child is, as a parent you will stop at nothing to ensure their safety.
However, on rare occasions, we also learn of people who are not at all qualified to be parents.
When everything went wrong, Angie Setlak was expecting her and her boyfriend’s kid, Xavier. Her partner was not at all interested in her, even though she was counting down the seconds as her tummy continued to swell.He was unfaithful all the time, breaking Angie’s heart over and over.So things turned upside down again when the son was delivered four weeks early.
His father’s infidelity caused us to have a stressful pregnancy, which had an impact on both the baby and my blood pressure. However, we succeeded, and he was born perfectly healthy. The physicians, who had predicted he would remain in my womb until his due date, were taken aback when he erupted in a fit of rage. After spending 16 days in the hospital, we returned home, and I had three wonderful months at home with my child,” Angie says to Love What Matters.One individual, though, found it difficult to adjust to the new existence.His father and Xavier were left alone one day. Furthermore, Xavier’s father, who was expected to look after the child while mother Angie returned to her job, was unable to cope.Angie was going to start her first job after her maternity leave when she went through something that nobody should have to go through.
She received numerous texts from her partner throughout the day complaining about how hard it was to care for their son. “Xavier’s father had been texting me all day about how difficult his life was, and I assured him that we would find a different way so he wouldn’t have to look after him by himself during the day. She tells the website that during his parental leave, he had only spent a maximum of two hours by himself with him, and it had gone well.The arrangement was for me to look after Xavier during the day while I worked, and for him to look after him at night while he worked. He worked evenings. My spouse kept telling me that everything would be well, even though I was really anxious about the scenario because, after all, he had raised a 10-year-old.But everything changed when the message arrived.He sent his girlfriend a startling text later that day in which Xavier’s father requested whether he might kill the boy. “I received a text from him on my first day back at work after taking maternity leave, asking if he could kill our child right away. I told him I was heading home and asked him not to bother.
Not too long afterward, she got another message.Xavier’s breathing stopped.Mom Angie hurried to the hospital after the small child was taken there immediately.The father insisted that their son had choked on milk, even though the boy had brain damage.Angie soon found out, though.Xavier spent two weeks in a medically induced coma to aid him. They warned his mother that he might not wake up and gradually weaned him off of his medication. We battled against two foes. Trauma and the period of time his brain was devoid of oxygen. I heard everything from “he might never learn to walk, talk, or move” to “he might be blind.” But I remained confident that he will return to me,” the mother remarked. Angie was able to go home with her son after spending 17 days in the hospital.
In contrast, Xavier’s father was taken into custody on charges of abusing his child.Angie claims that the police believed the father had given Xavier a violent shaking that seriously injured his brain.Xavier has had more surgeries since then and is getting stronger every day. The wonderful little Xavier is the only person in his mother Angie’s life; his father has been absent for a long time.”I’m hoping that someone who reads our narrative would be moved to tears and understand how crucial it is to never shake a newborn. You should never, ever shake a baby. Avoiding it is quite simple. My child was irreparably altered by a fit of rage.
This story really breaks my heart. How could the father of a kid commit such a horrific act? Spread the word about this to increase awareness.
I Returned Home to Discover My Kids Asleep in the Hallway — The Transformation My Husband Made to Their Bedroom in My Absence Drove Me Wild
After a week away, I came home to the strange and unsettling sight of my kids sleeping on the cold hallway floor. Heart pounding, I searched for answers, only to find my husband missing and odd noises coming from the kids’ room. What I uncovered next left me furious — and ready for a fight!
I’d been away on a business trip for a week, and let me tell you, I was itching to get home. My boys, Tommy and Alex, were probably bouncing off the walls waiting for me.
I mean, a week is practically forever when you’re 6 and 8. And Mark? Well, I figured he’d be glad to hand the reins back to me. He’s a great dad, don’t get me wrong, but he’s always been more of the fun parent than the responsible one.
As I pulled into our driveway at midnight, I couldn’t help but grin. The house was dark and quiet, just as it should be at this ungodly hour.
I grabbed my suitcase and tiptoed to the front door, keys jingling softly in my hand.
The lock clicked open, and I stepped inside, ready to collapse into bed. But something was… wrong.
My foot hit something soft, and I froze. Heart pounding, I fumbled for the light switch. When the hall lit up, I almost screamed.
Tommy and Alex were sprawled out on the floor, tangled up in blankets like a couple of puppies. They were fast asleep, but their faces were smudged with dirt, and their hair was sticking up in all directions.
“What the hell?” I whispered, my mind racing. Had there been a fire? A gas leak? Why weren’t they in their beds?
I crept past them, afraid to wake them up until I knew what was going on. The living room was a disaster zone, littered with pizza boxes, soda cans, and what looked suspiciously like melted ice cream on the coffee table. But no sign of Mark.
My heart was doing the cha-cha in my chest as I made my way to our bedroom. Empty.
The bed was still made, like it hadn’t been slept in today. Mark’s car was in the driveway, so where was he?
That’s when I heard it. A faint, muffled sound coming from the boys’ room. I tiptoed over, my imagination running wild. Was Mark hurt? Had some psycho broken in and tied him up?
I pushed the door open, inch by inch, and…
“What. The. Actual—” I bit my tongue, remembering the kids were just down the hall.
There was Mark, headphones on, controller in hand, surrounded by empty energy drink cans and snack wrappers. But that wasn’t even the craziest part.
The boys’ room had been transformed into some kind of gamer paradise. A massive TV took up one wall, there were LED lights everywhere, and I’m pretty sure that monstrosity in the corner was a mini-fridge.
I stood there, mouth hanging open, as the rage built up inside me like a volcano about to blow. Mark hadn’t even noticed me yet, too engrossed in whatever game he was playing.
I stomped over and yanked the headphones off his head. “Mark! What the hell is going on?”
He blinked at me, looking dazed. “Oh, hey babe. You’re home early.”
“Early? It’s midnight! Why are our children sleeping on the floor?”
He shrugged, reaching for his controller again. “Oh, it’s fine. The boys were happy sleeping outside. They thought it was an adventure.”
I snatched the controller away. “An adventure? They’re not camping, Mark! They’re sleeping on our dirty hallway floor!”
“Come on, don’t be such a buzzkill,” he said, trying to grab the controller back. “Everything’s under control. I’ve been feeding them and stuff.”
“Feeding them? You mean the pizza boxes and ice cream in the living room?” I could feel my blood pressure rising with every word. “And what about baths? Or, I don’t know, their actual beds?”
Mark rolled his eyes. “They’re fine, Sarah. Lighten up a bit.”
That’s when I lost it.
“Lighten up? LIGHTEN UP? Our children are sleeping on the floor like animals while you play video games in their room! What is wrong with you?”
“Nothing’s wrong with me,” he huffed. “I’m just trying to have a little me-time. Is that so terrible?”
I took a deep breath, trying not to scream. “You know what? We’re not doing this right now. Go put the boys in their beds. Now.”
“But I’m in the middle of—”
“NOW, Mark!”
He grumbled but got up, shuffling past me.
I watched him pick up Tommy, who stirred a little but didn’t wake up. As Mark carried him to bed, I couldn’t help but think how alike they looked: one actual child and the man acting like one.
I scooped up Alex, my heart breaking a little at how dirty his face was. As I tucked him into bed, I made a decision. If Mark wanted to act like a child, then that’s exactly how I’d treat him.
The next morning, I put my plan into action.
While Mark was in the shower, I snuck into the man cave he’d created and unplugged everything. Then I got to work.
When he came downstairs, hair still wet, I was waiting for him with a big smile. “Good morning, sweetie! I made you breakfast!”
He looked at me suspiciously. “Uh, thanks?”
I set a plate in front of him. In the middle was a Mickey Mouse-shaped pancake with a smiley face made of fruit. His coffee was in a sippy cup.
“What’s this?” he asked, poking at the pancake.
“It’s your breakfast, silly! Now eat up, we have a big day ahead of us!”
After breakfast, I unveiled my masterpiece, a giant, colorful chore chart plastered on the fridge. “Look what I made for you!”
Mark’s eyes widened. “What the hell is that?”
“Language!” I scolded. “It’s your very own chore chart! See? You can earn gold stars for cleaning your room, doing the dishes, and putting away your toys!”
“My toys? Sarah, what are you—”
I cut him off. “Oh, and don’t forget! We have a new house rule. All screens off by 9 p.m. sharp. That includes your phone, mister!”
Mark’s face went from confused to angry. “Are you kidding me? I’m a grown man, I don’t need—”
“Ah, ah, ah!” I wagged my finger. “No arguing, or you’ll have to go to the timeout corner!”
For the next week, I stuck to my guns. Every night at 9, I’d shut off the Wi-Fi and unplug his gaming console.
I even tucked him into bed with a glass of milk and read him “Goodnight Moon” in my most soothing voice.
His meals were served on plastic plates with little dividers. I cut his sandwiches into dinosaur shapes and gave him animal crackers for snacks. When he complained, I’d say things like, “Use your words, honey. Big boys don’t whine.”
The chore chart was a particular point of contention. Every time he completed a task, I’d make a big show of giving him a gold star.
“Look at you, putting your laundry away all by yourself! Mommy’s so proud!”
He’d grit his teeth and mutter, “I’m not a child, Sarah.”
To which I’d reply, “Of course not, sweetie. Now, who wants to help make cookies?”
The breaking point came about a week into my little experiment. Mark had just been sent to the timeout corner for throwing a fit about his two-hour screen time limit. He sat there, fuming, while I calmly set the kitchen timer.
“This is ridiculous!” he exploded. “I’m a grown man, for God’s sake!”
I raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Are you sure about that? Because grown men don’t make their children sleep on the floor so they can play video games all night.”
He deflated a little. “Okay, okay, I get it! I’m sorry!”
I studied him for a moment. He did look genuinely remorseful, but I wasn’t going to let him off the hook when I had one last blow to deliver.
“Oh, I accept your apology,” I said sweetly. “But I’ve already called your mom…”
The color drained from his face. “You didn’t.”
Right on cue, there was a knock at the door. I opened it to reveal Mark’s mother, looking every bit the disappointed parent.
“Mark!” she bellowed, marching into the house. “Did you really make my sweeties sleep on the floor so you could play your little games?”
Mark looked like he wanted the floor to open up and swallow him whole. “Mom, it’s not… I mean, I didn’t…”
She turned to me, her face softening. “Sarah, dear, I’m so sorry you had to deal with this. I thought I raised him better than that.”
I patted her arm. “It’s not your fault, Linda. Some boys just take longer to grow up than others.”
Mark’s face was beet red. “Mom, please. I’m 35 years old!”
Linda ignored him, turning back to me. “Well, not to worry. I’ve cleared my schedule for the next week. I’ll whip this boy back into shape in no time!”
As Linda bustled off to the kitchen, muttering about the state of the dishes, I caught Mark’s eye. He looked utterly defeated.
“Sarah,” he said quietly. “I really am sorry. I was selfish and irresponsible. It won’t happen again.”
I softened a little. “I know, honey. But when I’m away, I need to know you’ve got things under control. The boys need a father, not another playmate.”
He nodded, looking ashamed. “You’re right. I’ll do better, I promise.”
I smiled and gave him a quick kiss. “I know you will. Now, why don’t you go help your mother with the dishes? If you do a good job, maybe we can have ice cream for dessert.”
As Mark trudged off to the kitchen, I couldn’t help but feel a little smug. Lesson learned, I hoped. And if not… well, I still had that timeout corner ready and waiting.
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