An unfiltered fire hose of flaming condemnation

Her dawg

I’m not sure Marlo could communicate just how much she missed Coco except maybe by nearly choking her to death with a hug upon seeing her. They have spent the last two days not three feet apart from each other. Coco is not necessarily confused by the affection—I mean, all she really hears from me is STOP STOP STOP STOP—she just sort of accepts it as her duty: Marlo is her sheep, and if the sheep is affectionate, so be it. The sheep is safe, and that’s all that matters.

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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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