An unfiltered fire hose of flaming condemnation

Hobo. Baby.

Just now I tried to give Leta a bite of my daily lunch oatmeal except when she went to open her mouth it was so full of crushed goldfish and raisins that the spoon wouldn’t fit. “Swallow what’s already in there,” I told her.

Instead she reached her right hand into her mouth and clawed out the mess of orange and black foodpaste, held it in her fist and then opened her mouth again like a bird waiting for the oatmeal. Before I could point out that what she had done was indeed NOT swallowing she reached her fist full of half-chewed goldfish and raisins to her head and used that hand to pull out the rubberband in her hair.

Did I mention that she likes to rummage in the trash and put dirty clothes on her head? I fear my Aunt Lola was meant to have a third child and instead THE LORD DONE UP AND SENT IT TO ME.

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Heather B. Armstrong

Hi. I’m Heather B. Armstrong, and this used to be called mommy blogging. But then they started calling it Influencer Marketing: hashtag ad, hashtag sponsored, hashtag you know you want me to slap your product on my kid and exploit her for millions and millions of dollars. That’s how this shit works. Now? Well… sit back, buckle up, and enjoy the ride.

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