An unfiltered fire hose of flaming condemnation

Portrait of a lady…

… who was left in her crate for only two hours on Sunday, and when we returned home from dinner she was dripping wet from having slept in a puddle of her own urine. Jon didn’t notice this when he let her out of the crate, so she ran upstairs and was so excited to see me and Leta that she started rolling all over the floor. And my, that was an unfortunate fragrance. And hour of clean up.

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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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