I know I'm probably the last person on earth to discover this blog, Dooce. Please don't make fun of me. I found it last night, whilst poking around on Fashion is Spinach.
Since that time, I have relived entire chunks of Heather B. Armstrong's life, mainly the really juicy parts. I went cross eyed reading all the back logged entries from when she was pregnant. I read about her super husband. I got all weepy when she was talking about her struggle with depression. I feel like I know her baby, Leta.
I wasted entire chunks of this morning reading about the terrible twos.
It's better than TV. It's better than books. I hate books. I read blogs. I feel like I know this woman. I feel her pain. I want to invite her over for drinks. I want to pick up a copy of US Weekly for her at the grocery store, because I know that she likes them.

*Mom: I don't really hate books.