An unfiltered fire hose of flaming condemnation

On my whereabouts

I know, I haven’t posted in a few days, and that has everything to do with a small bathroom makeover project that quickly spiraled into something much more sinister. Jon was hunched over the new vanity yesterday morning failing miserably at the task of assembling the drawers when suddenly he started complaining about his back. That maybe he had broken a rib in his sleep. This makes sense because he normally wrestles crocodiles once we turn the lights off at night.

I had planned to sit down this morning and write a post about how I broke my toe over the weekend and have consequently perfected the act of waddling to the point that I have elevated it to an art form. But last night one of my best friends went into labor, and I’m headed off right this second to be one of the many who will help her through these last crucial hours. She’s been on pitocin since 2 AM and hasn’t yet asked for the epidural, and when her Mom called this morning to let me know how far along she was I could hear my friend moaning wildly in the background. Fun, fun, fun! I figure this will be a quick refresher course in what I’ll be going through in less than two months. I may return this afternoon having changed my mind about having a second child.

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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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