In a new video, Jo Frost, aka Supernanny, warns that some modern parents are hindering their kids’ independence by choosing short-term convenience over teaching basic life skills.
The Instagram post featuring the video is filled with comments from teachers agreeing with her that it’s a growing concern.
@Jo_Frost
BREAKING: Iranian state media, via Reuters, says the draft memorandum with Washington commits the United States to lifting sanctions and withdrawing its forces from the vicinity of Iran. The White House calls it a fabrication, then confirms most of the substance itself.
Stay with me here, because the sequence of events deserves to be written down slowly.
In 2018, Donald Trump tore up the Iran nuclear deal. The worst deal ever made, he said. Obama had shipped Iran's enriched uranium out of the country and put inspectors inside its facilities, and this, apparently, was weakness.
In February 2026, Trump went further. The opening strike was pure Caracas swagger, a decapitation operation that actually killed Iran's supreme leader on day one. Regime change, he and Netanyahu announced, urging Iranians into the streets. The regime did not change. It promoted the dead man's son and kept shooting.
Here is the detail historians will struggle with: according to Oman's foreign minister, who was mediating, Iran had already agreed to demands on dismantling its nuclear program before the bombs fell. There was a deal on the table. They bombed it.
Then came three months in which the most expensive military on earth could neither win nor leave. Trump has declared peace at hand so many times the announcements have lost exchange value. A deal largely negotiated. A breakthrough within hours. Strikes described, in his own words, as a little friendly nudge.
Meanwhile Kuwait accidentally shot down three American F-15s, an American missile destroyed a girls' school and killed at least 168 people, mostly children, which the president first blamed on Iran until the Pentagon's own investigation pointed home. Thirteen American soldiers came back in coffins.
And while Washington flailed, your life got more expensive. The Hormuz closure is the largest supply disruption in the history of the oil market. Inflation is climbing on every continent, rate cuts are dead, and the IMF is gaming out a global recession. The entire planet is paying interest on one man's temper.
Now the ending. The deal taking shape gives Iran sanctions relief, frozen billions and an American withdrawal from the neighborhood, while the uranium stays in Iran, under a mountain, fate to be discussed later. Which means the United States fought a fifteen-week war, at biblical expense, to arrive at a worse version of the agreement its own president destroyed for being too weak.
He did not lose to Iran. He lost to himself, eight years ago, and it took two thousand dead people to deliver the message.
Keep an eye on the signing.
The fact that some 80 year old pedophile who lives in a Florida brothel can single handedly cripple the world economy, trigger a global war, trash the White House, and grift people out of billions is insane if you think about it
Can't stop thinking about Elon Musk, the wealthiest man alive worth $828 billion, spending $290 million to elect Trump, becoming $563 billion richer since Trump was elected and ending humanitarian aid that will lead to the deaths of 4.5 million of the poorest kids on the planet.
Took a video of this cool shell formation on my beach walk.
If all of you repost it as many times as you can maybe some journalists will see it and do something about it
Staff: Tell them the Jesus picture was doctored.
Trump: I'm a Doctor!
Staff: Tell them it's a small military incursion.
Trump: It's a great military excursion!
Staff: Tell them they're coming seeking asylum.
Trump: They're coming from Insane Asylums!
Some people refuse vaccines because they think they’re being tracked.
Then pull a iPhone out of their pocket…
…and use it to broadcast that belief to the world.
When I travel outside of Ukraine, I get daily intelligence updates online. This morning, I was briefed that U.S. military facilities in the Middle East and the Gulf region were photographed by Russian satellites in the interests of Iran.
On March 24th, they imaged the U.S.–UK joint military facility on Diego Garcia located in the Chagos Archipelago in the Indian Ocean. They also captured pictures of Kuwait International Airport and parts of the infrastructure of the Greater Burgan oil field. On March 25th, they took pictures of the Prince Sultan Air Base in Saudi Arabia. The Shaybah oil and gas field in Saudi Arabia, İncirlik Air Base in Türkiye, and Al Udeid Air Base in Qatar were all imaged on March 26th.
There are no Ukrainian facilities on this list. But who is helping whom when sanctions are lifted from an aggressor that earns daily revenue and provides intelligence for strikes against American, Middle Eastern, UK, and U.S.–UK bases and so on?
When surveillance is carried out over facilities in Ukraine, we always understand that they must be protected, since plans are in motion to destroy them – energy and water infrastructure, military facilities, and so on. Everyone knows that repeated reconnaissance indicates preparations for strikes. How can sanctions be eased if this is what the Russians are doing?
There must be pressure on the aggressor. And lifting sanctions is certainly not pressure. It looks strange. Sanctions are being lifted, while the aggressor is providing intelligence to strike facilities, including those of the countries that are discussing or have already lifted sanctions.
From my conversation with journalists (3/3).
Robert Mueller died last night.
He was 81 years old. He had a wife who loved him for sixty years. He had two daughters, one of whom he met for the first time in Hawaii, in 1969, on a few hours of military leave, before he got back on the plane and returned to Vietnam. He had grandchildren. He had a faith he practiced quietly, without performance. He had, in the way of men who have seen real things and survived them, a quality that is increasingly rare and increasingly mocked in the country he spent his life serving.
He had integrity.
And tonight the President of the United States said good!
I have been sitting with that word for hours now. Good. One syllable. The thing you say when the coffee is hot or the traffic is moving. The thing a man who has never had to bury anyone, never had to sit in the specific silence of a room where someone is newly absent, reaches for when he wants the world to know he is satisfied. Good. The daughters are crying and the wife is alone in the house and good.
I want to speak directly to the Americans reading this. Not the political Americans. Just the human ones. The ones who have lost a father. The ones who know what it is to be in that first hour, when you keep forgetting and then remembering again, when ordinary objects become unbearable, when the world outside the window seems obscene in its indifference. I want to ask you, simply, to hold that feeling for a moment, and then to understand that the man you elected looked at it and typed a single word.
Good.
This is not a country having a bad day. I need you to understand that. Countries have bad days. Elections go wrong. Leaders disappoint. Institutions bend. But there is a different thing, a rarer and more terrible thing, that happens when the moral center of a place simply gives way. Not dramatically. Not with a single catastrophic event. But quietly, in increments, until one evening a president celebrates the death of an old man whose family is still warm with grief, and enough people find it acceptable that it becomes the weather. Just the weather.
That is what is happening. That is what has happened.
The world knows. From Tokyo to Oslo, from London to Buenos Aires, people are not angry at America tonight. Anger would mean there was still something to fight for, some remaining faith to be betrayed. What I see, in the reactions from everywhere that is not here, is something older and sadder than anger. It is the look people get when they have waited a long time for someone they love to find their way back, and have finally understood that they are not coming.
America is being grieved. Past tense, almost. The idea of it. The thing it represented to people who had nothing else to believe in, who came here with everything they owned in a single bag because they had heard, somehow, across an ocean, that this was the place where decency was written into the walls. That idea is not resting. It is not suspended. It is being buried, in real time, with 7,450 likes before dinner.
And the church said nothing.
Seventy million people have decided that this man, this specific man who has cheated everyone he has ever made a promise to, who has mocked the disabled and the dead and the grieving, who celebrated tonight while a family wept, is an instrument of God. The pastors who made that bargain did not just trade away their credibility. They traded away the thing that made them worth listening to in the first place. The cross they carry now is a costume. The faith they preach is a loyalty oath with scripture attached. When the history of American Christianity is written, this will be the chapter they skip at seminary.
Now I want to talk about the men who stand next to him.
Because this is the part that actually breaks my heart.
JD Vance is not a bad man. I have to say that, because it is true, and because the truth matters even now, especially now. Marco Rubio is not a bad man. Lindsey Graham is not a bad man. They are idiots, but not bad, as in BAD! These are men with mothers who raised them and children who love them and friends who remember who they were before all of this. They are not monsters. Monsters are simple. Monsters do not cost you anything emotionally because there is nothing in them to mourn.
These men are something more painful than monsters.
They are men who knew better, and know better still, and will get up tomorrow and do it again.
Every small compromise they made had a reason. Every moment they looked the other way had a justification that sounded, at the time, almost reasonable. And now they have arrived here, at a place where a president celebrates the death of an old man and they will find a way, on television, to say nothing that means anything, and they will go home to houses where children who carry their name are waiting, and they will say goodnight, and they will say nothing.
Their oldest friends are watching. The ones who knew Rubio when he still believed in something. Who knew Graham when he said, out loud, on the record, that this exact man would destroy the Republican Party and deserve it. Who sat next to Vance and thought here is someone worth knowing. Those friends are not angry tonight. They moved through anger a long time ago. What they feel now is the quiet, irrecoverable sadness of watching someone disappear while still being present. Of watching a person they loved choose, again and again, to become less.
That is what cowardice costs. Not the coward. The people who loved him.
And in the comments tonight, the followers celebrate. People who ten years ago brought casseroles to grieving neighbours. Who stood in the rain at gravesides and meant the words they said. Who told their children that we do not speak ill of the dead because the dead were someone's beloved. Those people are tonight typing gleeful things about a man whose daughters are not yet done crying. And they feel clean doing it. Righteous. Because somewhere along the way the thing they were given in exchange for their decency was the feeling of belonging to something, and that feeling is very hard to give up even when you can no longer remember what you gave for it.
When Trump is gone, they will still be here.
Standing in the silence where the noise used to be. Without the permission the crowd gave them. Without the pastor who told them their cruelty was holy. They will be alone with what they said and what they cheered and what they chose to become, and there will be no one left to tell them it was righteous.
That morning is coming.
Robert Mueller flew across the Pacific on military leave to hold his newborn daughter for a few hours before returning to the war. He came home. He buried his dead with honour. He served presidents of both parties because he understood that the institution was larger than any one man. He told his grandchildren that a lie is the worst thing a person can do, that a reputation once lost cannot be recovered, and he lived that, every day, in the quiet and unglamorous way of people who actually believe what they say.
He was the kind of American the world used to point to when it needed to believe the story was true.
He died last night. His wife is alone in their house in Georgetown. His daughters are learning what the world is without him in it. And somewhere in the particular hush that falls over a family in the first hours of loss, the most powerful man and the biggest loser on earth sent a message to say he was glad.
The world that loved what America was supposed to be is grieving tonight. Not for Robert Mueller only. For the country that produced him and then became this. For the distance between what was promised and what was delivered. For the suspicion, growing quieter and more certain with each passing month, that the America people believed in was always partly a story, and the story is over now, and there is nothing yet to replace it.
That is all it needed to be.
A man died. His family is broken open with grief.
That is all it needed to be.
Instead the President said good.
And the country that once stood for something looked away 🇺🇸
Gandalv / @Microinteracti1
Deutsche Bank settled for $75 million.
JPMorgan settled for $290 million.
Leon Black settled for $62.5 million.
That's $427.5 million paid by people who claimed they had nothing to do with Epstein.
Nobody has been charged.