Book Review: A Unicorn Named Sparkle

A Unicorn Named Sparkle

I recently read A Unicorn Named Sparkle by Amy Young and it seriously gave me a case of the giggles.

I mean, it’s a story about a little girl who orders a unicorn for 25 cents from an ad in the back of a magazine (whoever tells you that’s not a dream come true is lying), but what shows up is a goat with an ice cream cone stuck to his forehead.

How can you not love this premise?

It’s a delightful picture book that my children found to be fun and silly.  The illustrations are bright and colorful and … sparkly.

Lucy’s wild hair and polka dot shirt are painted with soft watercolors and dance across pages of wide white spreads, and the baby unicorn/goat practically dances right into your heart with his own little heart-shaped cutie mark.

Now, when Lucy imagines what kind of unicorn will be delivered to her, she pictures something perfect and pretty with a flowing mane and impeccable manners.  When the goat arrives, with his scruffy mane and tendency-to-eat-things manners, she decides to return him.

The truck arrives to take him back, but, luckily, Lucy realizes her mistake before it’s too late.

Because although he was not quite what she expected, “she had to admit:  sometimes he made her smile and sometimes he made her laugh.”  And while friends might not always be perfect, they are certainly precious.

So if you or your kids love unicorns (or goats), check out A Unicorn Named Sparkle for a fun and charming story!

Happy Reading!

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A Mom’s Counting Primer [A Poetic Parody]

blocks 123

So, a couple of weeks ago I had these nagging words in my head that needed to be written down.

It really started as a kid’s book.  Some sort of humorous counting primer.

It didn’t stay a kid’s book long.

It became a poem for moms who know what it’s like to count.  You know, the you’d-better-do-what-I-told-you-to-do-before-I-get-to-three type of counting.

But the mom in the poem is nice.  She goes up to ten.  (Kind of.)

I recently joined Wattpad, so I posted the poem there.  Grab a glass of wine and head on over to check it out (seriously, I think the whole thing is shorter than this blog post).  Then please share it with all the moms you know that could use a little “time out.”  ;)

Here’s the poem:

A Mom’s Counting Primer [A Poetic Parody]

Enjoy!

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Book Review: The School for Good and Evil by Soman Chainani

The School for Good and Evil by Soman Chainani:  a book review by Roaming Rosie

The School for Good and Evil, by Soman Chainani, is a fast-paced fairy tale {somewhat fractured} about two girls searching for their Happily Ever Afters.

But their Happily Ever Afters and their journeys to find themselves are not at all what either girl could ever have imagined.

And it’s fun to read.

It’s a middle-grade novel, written for ages 8 to 12, with the paperback at 544 pages long.

The story begins with two very different girls:  Sophie, a gorgeous wannabe princess who spends her days preening and dreaming of princes, and Agatha, a quiet loner who lives in a graveyard and has a cat named Reaper who leaves beheaded birds in her pockets.

Sophie and Agatha only entered a relationship because Sophie was trying to demonstrate how “Good” and charitable she was by befriending the homely outcast dubbed a witch by the townspeople.  This relationship, however, grew into a real {albeit somewhat unbalanced} friendship before the story even starts.

Their story starts for us as they are kidnapped by the elusive School Master and dropped into the School for Good and Evil.  Unexpectedly, however, Agatha is dropped into the School for Good and Sophie into the School for Evil. Both girls are certain a mistake has been made.

As the book progresses, we see Agatha continually and fiercely trying to protect and help her friend, as Sophie grows more and more selfish and angry.  And even though the characters keep showing us their true natures and showing the audience that maybe, just maybe, they’re in the correct schools after all, the book isn’t that cut and dry.

In between colorful school lessons of witches learning the correct way to cook children and princesses learning how to speak to squirrels, and in between competitions where princes try to discern which magical pumpkin is actually a princess, the children face some very dangerous and quite scary situations.  Which is – actually – very in keeping with the style of fairy tales.

But the point to all of these lessons and competitions and circuses and balls is that we learn that even the baddest of the Bad students have their good points, and even the Good students are perfectly capable of evil.

I rather enjoyed the book, and I was very happy with the way it ended.  Now, when I started reading it, I didn’t even know it was part of a series, but I was relieved to find that out, because when the book ended, I did want to know more of their story, even though it still would have functioned as a stand alone novel.

And it’s all done in a very entertaining way through a story that moves along at a good pace:  fast enough to keep kids and young adults entertained, but not so quickly that things get overwhelming or confused.  The language is intelligent, the imagery is vivid, and the story was creative.  I laughed … I cried … and I totally think everyone who is even remotely and mildly interested in fantasy and fairy tales should read it.  There isn’t anything in there that’s inappropriate for young kids, but I feel that adults will rather enjoy the tongue-in-cheek fairy tale references.  I absolutely plan to read the sequels.

You can see a preview of The School for Good and Evil on Amazon.

Happy Reading!

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Coffee Is My Boyfriend, But Books Are My Lovers

Coffee is my Boyfriend but Books are my Lovers art wood prints and wrapped canvases at RoamingRosie.com

Coffee is my boyfriend, but books are my lovers.

Because we all need priorities in life.

:)

Check out my newest art here:

Coffee is my Boyfriend Wood Print

Books are my Lovers Wood Print

Coffee is my Boyfriend Wrapped Canvas

Books are my Lovers Wrapped Canvas

And I hope you enjoy the art as much as your coffee and your books!

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10 Things I Never Expected to Say {Or: A Typical Day in the Life of a Mom}

10 Things I Never Expected to Say OR A Typical Day in the Life of a Mom from RoamingRosie.com

Motherhood has brought with it many unexpected surprises.

Most of them are phenomenally, euphorically amazing. The rest are…

Messy.

{That’s putting it mildly.}

And these are some of the unexpected words that have crossed my lips in the first 5 years of my daughters’ lives.

Things I hope I won’t have to say again {but know that I probably will}.

10 Things I Never Expected to Say

1.  I ran out of tissues; just use my shirt.

2.  Why are you naked?

3.  I didn’t know diarrhea could shoot that far – you almost hit Grandma!

4.  No, no: throw up on me, not the couch!

5.  Did I just step in syrup?

6.  No, I don’t need a tampon, and I certainly don’t need a handful of them … where are all the wrappers?

7.  Don’t stick your fingers in the dog’s butt!

8.  I don’t care how cold you are, you’re not getting back in the bathtub until I clean all of the poop out of it.

9.  Get your hands out of the toilet!

10.  Did you just put my ChapStick in your butt?

My second favorite chore is ironing.  My first being hitting my head on the top bunk bed until I faint.  Erma Bombeck

Please share some of the unexpectedness you’ve experienced in the comment section!

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{Top Photo Copyright Rebecca Abell | Dreamstime Stock Photos}

Feeling the Heat

Me on a hot day funny dog in fridge

Me on a hot day?

Yeah.  Pretty much.

I know they’ve got some “dry” heat going on over in the west, but when the Floridian humidity sticks to you, sometimes the only way to get relief is to attempt to encase yourself in the freezer.

Thanks to The Chive for the photo.

And be sure to follow me on Facebook at Roaming Rosie Remix to get glimpses of my deranged, and occasionally grammatically correct, sense of humor!

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The Bookmark

Child Reading a Book Vintage Art

I have many bookmarks.

And by bookmarks, I mean tiny pieces of paper or old receipts or expired coupons that find their way into my books.

Part of the reason for this is that I can’t ever seem to find the few actual bookmarks I own when I go to start a new book, which leads me to the other reason:  said bookmarks are already being used within other books.

I tend to read multiple books at one time.

Or maybe I should say that I “start” to read multiple books at one time.  Over the years, there are more than a handful of books that I’ve drifted away from during a chapter that lagged and simply never finished them.

But I digress.  I came here to discuss bookmarks.

And sometimes you don’t even need bookmarks.  For example, one book I’m in the middle of is on my tablet.  The magical electronic device remembers my page for me.  In fact, when I was a kid, I didn’t even use bookmarks most of the time.  I just remembered the page number where I stopped.

My memory is no longer equipped for such a task.

Granted, my OCD forces me to look at the page numbers when I’m turning them to make sure I don’t miss a page {as if I wouldn’t notice}, but whether I put the book down for a few hours or a few days {or a few months}, I now find bookmarks to be essential.

Even tho I recently used a recipe that I’d cut from the back of a box of pasta as a bookmark, my normal go-to these days is two Post-it notes stuck together.  I usually have little pads of them lying around to jot down ideas or phone messages or grocery lists.  And I’ve found that by taking two Post-it notes and sticking them to each other with the sticky edges at opposite ends, it makes a nice sturdy square of paper.

Perfect for an impromptu bookmark.

But the fact that it also looks precisely like a normal Post-it note is what lead me to believe that my four-year-old daughter was just playing with a piece of the nearby pad of Post-its when I saw the yellow paper in her hand.

Until she opened up my big hardcover book, stuck the Post-it in between some pages, and closed it again.

Recognition {and panic} dawned.

“Was… was that my bookmark?  Did you take it out of my book?!?”

“Yes,” she answered, smiling sweetly.  “But I put it back.”

 

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{photo source:  Zazzle}

 

Molesting Alligators

DO NOT MOLEST OR FEED ALLIGATORS

This is a sign near a park we visit.

The playground is fenced in, so I don’t worry about alligators wandering around where my children are playing.

I am, however, a bit concerned about the idiots that inspired the need for the sign.

#OnlyInFlorida

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Momism #9: Snot Receptacles

Momism #9:  Snot Receptacles

We’ve all been there:  the kids have a cold but their noses haven’t been running all morning… until you take them out in public.

Maybe it’s at the playground, maybe it’s at the library, maybe it’s at the grocery store, but, suddenly, your eyes catch sight of a large stream of yellow slime sliding down your child’s face – and you don’t have your purse/diaper bag/tissues-of-any-kind easily available.

So you grab it.  With your fingers.  And wipe it on your jeans casually like none of the other moms can see what you’re doing.

Because maybe you remember the terror and disgust you felt as you watched another child wipe a monstrous glob of green goop all over their hands and then touch your child.

And because, even though you couldn’t help laughing when your toddler was hysterically giggling at how she’d somehow managed to cover an entire toy in her own snot while playing at the library, you just can’t willingly distribute your family’s sticky clumps of germs to innocent bystanders.

And so, somehow, quickly grabbing the slippery puddle with your own fingers presents itself as the best option.

Because the dramatic dive to the diaper bag wouldn’t be quick enough, even if the world passed by in some type of movie-worthy slow motion, and so you use your fingers and swear that you’re going to start carrying tissues in your pocket.

Even though you won’t remember until your kids sneezes projectile snot missiles all over the pasta boxes at Publix.

Sigh.  C’est la boogers vie.

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