I read Dooce. Pretty regularly. Along with a few other million readers, I guess.
Writing about Leta in the middle of the night, Heather describes the event like this:
And this went on for hours. Hours. And more hours. As many hours as there are between three and eight AM, which doesn’t seem like many right now, but there in the dark as the minutes were counted out in a machine gun spray of syllables, it seemed like all of the hours that ever were, a collection of time so vast that I could have witnessed the Colorado River carve out the Grand Canyon, one layer of dirt at a time.And that is what I think Dooce got exactly right. That insane, completely surreal, will-this-night-ever-end kind of feeling ... that leaves bewildered parent you wondering if you'll ever feel normal again, ever able to sleep again?
She got it pitch-perfect. From one ol' mom to a new one.
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