Someone I aspire to resemble

in both form and function is Heather B. Armstrong from Dooce. She is, quite simply, a fantastic writer, and this piece regarding Britney is so compassionate and knowing, that I wish I was her (Heather's) friend.

You wouldn’t have ever found me out at night flashing my bare vagina, but so what? I did things that were far worse, a lot of yelling, a lot of walking away, a lot of wishing I had never had a child. But I forgive myself for all of that because I was sick. I am not that person anymore. I wasn’t that person before my breakdown, and I’m doing everything I can to not ever become her again.

And while I understand that Britney Spears is not everyone’s cup of tea, that to most people she’s just a spoiled celebrity who has more money than sense, I would hope that other women and other mothers are looking at her with a little bit of compassion right now, if only for the sake of those two baby boys who are innocent in all of this. She is their mother. I had too many people pulling for me when I went through it to not extend that sympathy to her or to any other woman who might feel out of control enough to start sabotaging her life.