When our kids fell ill and couldn’t go on our planned family vacation, my husband just ditched us and went alone. What he didn’t know was that his little “me time” getaway would cost him way more than he bargained for.
I trdged through the front door at 8:30 p.m., my feet throbbing after a grueling twelve-hour shift at the hospital. The cacophony hit me like a wall: cartoons blaring from the TV, Zach and Penny shrieking as they chased each other around the living room.
And there was Garrett, sprawled on the couch like a beached whale, beer in hand.
“Hey, babe,” he called out, not bothering to look up from his phone. “Rough day?”
I bit back a sarcastic reply. “You could say that. The ER was a madhouse.” I glanced at the disaster zone of toys and snack wrappers surrounding him. “Did you feed the kids dinner?”
Garrett shrugged. “They had some chips earlier. I figured you’d want to cook when you got home.”
I closed my eyes, counting to ten. This had become our new normal over the past few years. I’d come home from saving lives to find a house in chaos and a husband who couldn’t be bothered to lift a finger.
“Mommy!” Penny latched onto my leg, her blonde pigtails askew. “I’m starving!”
I forced a smile. “Okay, sweetie. Let’s get you both some real food.”
As I reheated leftovers, my mind drifted to our upcoming beach vacation. Maybe a change of scenery would help us reconnect, remind Garrett why we fell in love in the first place.
“So, you packed for the trip yet?” I asked, setting plates in front of the kids.
Garrett grunted. “Nah, I’ll throw some stuff in a bag tomorrow. No big deal.”
I sighed. “We leave in two days, Garrett. A little planning wouldn’t kill you.”
He rolled his eyes. “Relax, it’ll be fine. You worry too much.”
The night before our flight, I woke to the sound of retching. Zach was hunched over the toilet, his face pale and clammy. Within an hour, Penny was sick too.
I gently broke the news to Garrett over breakfast. “We’ll have to postpone the trip. The kids have a nasty stomach bug.”
He froze, fork halfway to his mouth. “What? No way. I’ve been looking forward to this for months!”
“I know, but they’re too sick to travel. We can reschedule”
Garrett’s jaw clenched. “I’m still going.”
I stared at him, sure I’d misheard. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me. I need this break, Nora. Work’s been insane lately.”
“And my job isn’t?” I snapped. “I’m a nurse, Garrett. I deal with real emergencies every day.”
He scoffed. “It’s not a competition. Look, you stay with the kids. I’ll go enjoy the beach for both of us.”
I watched in disbelief as he packed his suitcase, ignoring Zach and Penny’s disappointed faces. As the front door slammed behind him, something inside me snapped.
The next week was hell. I juggled caring for two miserable children, all while stewing in rage every time Garrett sent a smug beach selfie.
On Friday, my phone buzzed with another photo: Garrett grinning over a fancy cocktail, caption reading “Living the dream!”
That was it. I had had enough, and I had a plan.
I marched into the garage, surveying Garrett’s precious “man cave.” His fishing gear, the boat he’d barely used, piles of expensive junk he’d accumulated over the years. A plan formed in my mind.
I spent the next few hours photographing everything, creating listings on the local buy-and-sell site. Within days, Garrett’s prized possessions were gone, replaced by a fat wad of cash in my purse.
“Guess what, kids?” I announced over breakfast. “We’re going on our own special vacation!”
Their eyes lit up. Zach pumped his fist. “Awesome! Where are we going?”
I grinned. “It’s a surprise. But I promise it’ll be even better than Dad’s boring old beach.”
We arrived at the resort a few days later, the kids bouncing with excitement. As I watched them splash in the pool, I felt lighter than I had in years.
“Mom, watch this!” Zach called, attempting a cannonball. I cheered, then turned to help Penny blow up her water wings.
“You’re a natural with them,” a voice behind me said. I turned to see a woman about my age smiling. “Single mom?”
I hesitated. “It’s… complicated.”
She nodded knowingly. “I’ve been there. I’m Tessa, by the way.”
We chatted as the kids played, swapping stories about work and parenthood. It felt good to connect with someone who understood.
“So, what’s your story?” Tessa asked, sipping her lemonade.
I sighed. “My husband decided to go on our family vacation without us when the kids got sick. Left me to deal with everything while he partied on the beach.”
Tessa’s eyes widened. “Seriously? What a jerk!”
I nodded. “Yeah, it was the last straw. I’ve been putting up with his selfishness for years, but this — I just couldn’t take it anymore.”
“So what did you do?” she asked.
A mischievous smile crept across my face. “I sold all his precious toys and used the money to bring the kids here.”
Tessa burst out laughing. “Oh my God, that’s brilliant! How’d he take it?”
“He doesn’t know yet,” I admitted. “But I’m sure I’ll find out soon enough.”
As if on cue, my phone started buzzing. Garrett’s name flashed on the screen.
“Speaking of the devil,” I muttered. “I should probably take this.”
Tessa gave me an encouraging nod. “Go get ’em, tiger.”
I stepped away from the pool, taking a deep breath before answering. “Hello?”
“Where the hell is all my stuff?” Garrett shouted, not bothering with a greeting.
I leaned against a palm tree, surprisingly calm. “Oh, you noticed? I thought you’d be too busy ‘living the dream’ to care.”
“Don’t play games, Nora. What did you do?”
“I sold it,” I said simply. “All of it. Your precious fishing rods, that boat you never use, everything.”
There was a moment of stunned silence. Then, “You what? How could you!”
“How could I?” I interrupted, my voice rising. “How could you abandon your sick children for a beach vacation? How could you ignore everything I do for this family?”
“That’s different! I work hard to provide for you.”
“And I don’t?” I shot back. “I’m done, Garrett. Done with your selfishness, done with being taken for granted.”
He sputtered, “What are you saying?”
I took a deep breath. “I’m saying I want a divorce.”
The line went quiet. When Garrett spoke again, his voice was low and dangerous. “You’ll regret this, Nora. I’ll make sure of it.”
I hung up, my hands shaking. Part of me wanted to cry, to mourn the life we’d built together. But a larger part felt… free.
I walked back to the pool, where Tessa was indulging in a cocktail.
“Everything okay?” she asked, concern etched on her face.
I nodded, managing a small smile. “Yeah, I think it will be. I just told my husband I want a divorce.”
Tessa’s eyes widened. “Wow, that’s huge. How do you feel?”
“Scared,” I admitted. “But also relieved? Like I can finally breathe again.”
She squeezed my hand. “That’s totally normal. Trust me, it gets better.”
We spent the rest of the afternoon playing with the kids, building elaborate sandcastles and splashing in the waves. For the first time in years, I felt genuinely happy.
That night, as I tucked the kids into bed, Zach looked up at me with serious eyes. “Mom, are you and Dad getting divorced?”
My breath caught in my throat. “Why do you ask that, sweetie?”
He shrugged. “I heard you on the phone. And you seem happier here without him.”
I sat on the edge of his bed, choosing my words carefully. “Your dad and I have been having problems for a while now. We’re going to try to work things out, but… yes, we might get divorced.”
Zach nodded solemnly. “Okay. As long as you’re happy, Mom. That’s what matters.”
Tears pricked my eyes as I hugged him tight. “When did you get so wise, huh?”
After the kids were asleep, I stood on the balcony, watching the moonlight dance on the waves. My phone buzzed with a text from Garrett:
“This isn’t over. I’ll see you in court.”
I took a deep breath, letting the ocean air fill my lungs. The road ahead would be tough, but I felt ready to face whatever came my way.
As I crawled into bed, I thought about the uncertain future ahead of us. It was terrifying, yes, but also exhilarating. For the first time in years, I felt like I was taking control of my life.
Tomorrow would bring new challenges, but for now, I let the sound of the ocean lull me to sleep, dreaming of the fresh start waiting on the horizon.
What would you have done?
Nursе, 31, Sреnt $200,000 Оn Соsmеtiс Рrосеdurеs То Lооk Likе А Ваrbiе
The media of today is a constant influence. Images of the ideal job, a stunning home or automobile, and a flawless smile with brilliant white teeth are all around us.
The ideals that so many women measure themselves to today—thanks to the fashion industry—are the most important issue.
For many women, it begins early in life. Some, as small children, receive their very first Barbie doll.
In today’s story, a nurse named Tara Jayne spent $200,000 getting plastic surgery to help her transform into the iconic Barbie because she wanted that appearance so desperately.
Barbie’s Brief History
Here’s a little background on the renowned Barbie doll, who so many people desire to be, before we get into that.
Barbie has had a significant impact on contemporary culture. In 1959, she made her stage debut in America.
Ever since, she has been the embodiment of every young girl’s ideal body being presented as the idealized representation of a woman. created by Ruth and Elliot Handler as a response to their daughter’s habit of crumpling paper pieces to form dolls that resembled grown-ups.
Ironically, rather than being a fashion and body image icon, She was supposed to encourage ideas of their future, which was a critical issue for young girls during that period.
With their design, Elliot and his wife Ruth most likеly did not anticipate making history, but they certainly did!
Cosmetic Nurse Becomes Barbie Personified
Nowadays, a great number of women are using cosmetic surgery to change the way certain areas of their bodies look, including facelifts, Botox, fillers, breast augmentations, and many other procedures.
If you work as a cosmetic nurse, you are likеly to see these costly procedures on a regular basis. Therefore, it makes sense that they would want to take care of themselves.
Today’s narrative centers on Tara Jayne, a cosmetic nurse who enjoys occasionally having a minor cosmetic operation done.
Tara is so infatuated with it that she has spent $200,000 on several plastic surgery procedures to make her look likе a Barbie doll. She claims that having plastic surgery allows her to “express beauty and empowerment.”
She’s had numerous nose jobs, up to five breast augmentations, and endless Botox and fillers thus far.
This requires a great deal of commitment and is also extremely costly.
Injections of Botox and filler are excellent for their anti-aging properties as well as for plumping or even contouring areas of your face, such as your cheekbones or lips.
Tara’s numerous surgeries have earned her some notoriety. With over 96,000 followers on her cosmetic journey and daily life as Barbie personified, tara_jayn3 is her Instagram username.
She has since conducted numerous interviews for various media outlets and written magazine pieces. She even made the following statement on the Morning Show: “I think it’s very important for a woman to be able to express the way they feel Just express everything about beauty in this day and age.”
An Expensive Hobby
Most people learn a new skiII, likе photography or making jewelry, when they want a new hobby. Jayne’s hobby is getting some form of cosmetic procedure done.
She gets her lips done about 30 times each year, and that must cost a pretty penny or two. “It’s quite easy to spend $2000 to $5000 at a time; it’s a pretty expensive hobby.” Said Jayne.
Luckily for Jay, she has many sponsors. All who likе to support this hobby of hers, and her family is also there to lend a hand.
Similar to hobbies, as soon as you get to a new level, you want to study everything you can about it in order to become an authority.
Jayne’s next operation involves getting personalized breast implants. These are designed to allow her to have 1500cc breasts rather than 1000cc.
She intends to complete this task in six months. We wish her the best of luck with her future body alterations, as this is a big task.
Here’s how she looked likе before the procedures…
Leave a Reply