To love her is to quote her:
I am not complaining about the sleep deprivation or the pooping. In fact, that’s why I got pregnant. I wanted to live through it again, and since I’m feeling so much better this time around I’m crazy enough to admit that I’m loving it. Yeah, I don’t get a lot of sleep. It can make me cranky from time to time, but in the middle of the night when it is happening it doesn’t bother me much because she is so soft and cuddly and smells like the farts of unicorns drunk on happiness and Sprite.
And believe it or not, that is but a snippet of a post that had me laughing hard from top to bottom. Almost 3000 freakin’ comments on that post. I’ve yet to get 300 comments on all the posts I write in a week! Heather was good when she started blogging. Today, I consider her one of the most talented bloggers on the web. She’s perfected the art of drawing out the crazies and the outwardly puritan, yet hypocritically demonic of trolls. The formula for successful blogging is written all over hers. At least one of those personal, fancy-writing kinds of blogs anyway.
She’s crass and not afraid to put whatever the hell she wants on her blog. Look, she made me cuss on my blog. I never do that! Yet, she has the absolutely massive following to prove we all just want more.
Here’s to you Heather Armstrong. The Dooce. May you be blogging about your kids’ grand kids and embarrassing the crap out of them 50 years from now. I’ll still be reading even though I am so far outside of your target demographic. I’ve always been attracted to other demographics. It’s a curse.
At the risk of looking and sounding like James Lipton (having not an iota of talent nor the notoriety of a gnat compared to Heather) you are the embodiment of all that is real and good on the web. Unless you choose to embody something else, which you often do.
