One Slurpee Shoe Sunday

#4: You remember that day about a year and a half ago when I was riding on Julietta’s scooter and I wrecked and hurt my finger real bad and I haven’t wanted to go on a scooter or a skateboard ever since?

Me: You mean right before we bought you the skateboard for your birthday that you’d been asking for for three years and now have never ridden? No, I don’t remember that.

#4: Well, that day I had a Slurpee and I dropped it.

Me: While you were riding on the scooter you were drinking a Slurpee? Maybe this is connected to you wrecking.

#4: No, I was drinking it next to the scooter. I just dropped it you know?

Me: Mmm-hmmm.

#4: And when it landed it just landed exactly like this, I didn’t do anything to it, so I took a picture and put it on my phone for the background:

notvomit
A Slurpee after my own heart

#4: It almost made up for not getting to drink my Slurpee.

Here are your links:

It’s Shamrock Shake time again, at a certain fast food establishment I don’t patronize and haven’t in years. Here’s a badasss homemade Shamrock Shake recipe (bonus: contains actual dairy ingredients, so you can legally refer to it as a milkshake, rather than just a shake. . .gads, I totally sound like a former McEmployee. Which I am.) Shamrock Shake on Homesteading Housewife

If you’ve ever been pregnant, or if you’ve ever made somebody pregnant, or if you’ve never wanted to be pregnant, you should check out this post by Lyz Lenz, who is freaking hilarious and whom I got to hear speak at BlogHer ’12 : I Am Not a Magical Birthing Unicorn

Dammit. Somebody posted this on Facebook and I watched it on my lunch break at work and had to pretend like I got hot sauce in my eye again. Viddler video: high school basketball player passes the ball to a mentally challenged player on the other team.

I have a confession to make: I’m real damn glad I missed out on toddler tantrums. If any of you are taking my name in vain right now, please know that I am exactly 30 days away from having four teenage girls living under my roof at one time. For a bit of insight to the science behind why your animal child (um, speaking only of toddlers here) just threw spaghetti in your face, check out this post: Why Does My Kid Freak Out? on Slate. If you have a teen who just threw spaghetti at you, I can’t help you.

I freaking love this: The Nietzsche Family Circus. Randomized pairing of Family Circus cartoons and Nietzsche quotes. 

One last bonus link for a bonus mom. Lisa Teal-Webb is a stepmom in Ohio who is one of my biggest sources of step-parenting help and inspiration through her group Buckeye Bonus Mom. This link is to an interview NBC4 in Ohio did with her.

Happy Sunday.

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11 thoughts on “One Slurpee Shoe Sunday

  1. Between the bonus mom, pregnant lady and toddler tantrum articles, it’s like you custom picked this week just for me. And, though I feel for you and your many more teenage girls than I have…there will be a period where we have both toddlers AND teenagers under one roof. What were we thinking? 😉

  2. It really just reminded me of making pancakes and trying to create cool design on purpose that usually ends up looking like, well, a pancake. I did manage to get a really cool heart, mickey mouse and letter K pancake this weekend. Damn, now I’m hungry or maybe I just want a slurpee. Great post!

  3. Longtime lurker (like, creepy long) just chiming in to rage in your general direction for a second, on the toddler thing. I am in a step-parent role to two boys, ages 6 and 3. I can tell you, with reasonable certainty, that the Terrible Two’s is a marketing ploy. People act like 2 is the worst age ever but I think they act like that because if you knew that 3 (and, sometimes, the earlier parts of 4) are even worse, you’d just tie all your belongings up in a handkerchief and jump on a freight train. Once you are actually in the thick of it and realize that it doesn’t end at 2, you no longer have the energy or will to even attempt to flee. Age 3 is basically everything crummy about age 2, plus intent.

    On the upside that means that when they do something reasonable, against all your expectations, or when they randomly scream “I love you!!!” (on the Metro North. during rush hour. with no prompting or warning whatsoever.), it is that much better. It’s like that moment when a cat deigns to cuddle with you and it feels awesome because you had to EARN that cuddle. The best of times, the worst of times.

    I will say that including the Shamrock Shake recipe in this blog entry was a wise gesture. It’s basically a fire extinguisher to my desire to take your name in vain. So we’re good, in the end.

    1. Always happy when a creepy lurker leaves a comment. Please remember the Shamrock Shake when the become teenagers, and remember that I warned you.

      PS: “Age 3 is basically everything crummy about age 2, plus intent” = awesome

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