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honesty in motherhood...

Not that the famous dooce needs any more publicity, but I just had to share a couple of favorite bits. Heather is strong meat, as in strong language, as in black humor, but there are some things she writes that I just wouldn’t’ve missed for the world.
(And when I say strong language, and attitude for that matter, I mean it. You stand warned. If you think you might be bothered, you probably will. I myself am sometimes bothered, which is why I don't read her all that regularly, or else I go through certain topics. She certainly has a way with words though. If you're interested in "mommyblogging" that is more often clean, I reccommend Verymom (currently on break), Daring Young Mom, NotesfromtheTrenches, among others.)
Not to mention she totally inspired me to keep monthly newsletters for my kids (at least for a while, I've fallen off the wagon of late, but y'know), because whenever I would read hers, I would laugh, and then want to write my own. Not as witty, since I've always been more earnest than clever; but they're more honest than they might've been otherwise -- not getting caught in the maudlin "this is nice, it was fun" thing is ALWAYS a plus in my book.

Like these particular entries (safe for public consumption)...

In her daughter's five months newsletter:
Also this month I have gone on a carb-only diet consisting of orange juice, strawberry pop tarts, and your chubby cheeks. I cannot keep your face out of my mouth, it is just so scrumptious and plump and chewy and round. You have a lot more hair on your head, so instead of putting your whole head in my mouth I bite off your ears and nose and gnaw on your chin. And then I go back for more cheeks. Sometimes I just can’t stop and I end up swallowing you whole and I walk around with your feet hanging out of my mouth. When your father comes home from work he asks, “Where’s the baby?” And I have to confess, “I ate her.”
The secret to abstinence is vengeful raccoons.

Parental job review: employee needs improvement.

The monster that started choking our necks the day our children were born.

I have more to say (I can hear you now: More to say? Surely you jest!) but will separate it out into another entry....