It's All Angles Now

As a young mother, I always looked forward to snuggling up with my kids. Something about those chubby thighs and squishy biceps just made me want to squeeze! Cuddling up on the couch to watch the latest Disney movie for the 200th time was always a pleasure if there was a child on my lap with his/her head snuggled right below my chin. Those were the "oasis" moments that made all of the other hysteria that accompanied raising young children worthwhile.

On the rare occasion, when I was able to get away for a few days, I found that more than anything, I missed the tactile experience of holding my kids. This surprised me because I thought I would miss how the looks on their faces or the sounds they would make. But, no. I always missed knowing exactly how they felt in my arms.

Nowadays, the landscape is changing. This morning as I snuggled both of my girls in the recliner, I noticed how markedly their bodies have changed. The soft curves and padding have now been replaced with long, acute angles and lines. All I could think is, "It's all angles!" The soft tissue that once graced my ample thighs is now hard, lean muscle. The chubby thighs are now bony bums.  The bodies that once fit so perfectly in my arms or under my chin are now much too long for either. Instead of holding babies, I feel as if I'm holding life-size Tinker Toys. Carrying a child to bed now not only involves a great amount of strength but also Tetris-like puzzle solving skills--"How do I get this long angular body down this hall and then maneuvered through a doorway?!" Watching my babes sleeping, I wonder who comes in each night and stretches those bodies?! Even my baby is starting to fill up the bed. The geometry of motherhood has definitely changed.

Don't get me wrong. I love the stage of life that I'm at. The perks at this stage of motherhood are pretty great. I do NOT miss changing diapers, lugging huge baby bags around, back-breaking car seats, puke, poop, pee, crying, feedings, toting cheerios and discovering long-lost, sippy cups that were once filled with milk that have now become toxic. But I DO miss those soft, little limbs!  There's nothing like them.

Probability shows me that my days of being able to savor these little slices of heaven, angular or not, are on the downward slope.  So, no matter how long your list of to-do's is today, prioritize this one. Take a moment to cradle the little, or not so little, ones in your arms. Human Tinker-Toys or angel, baby fat, these days are numbered. At the very least, let's make 'em count. 

It's a Marshmallow World...EVERYDAY!

As I sifted through my cupboards this morning, in search of a yummy fix, my eyes lit up when they rested upon a somewhat expired jar of marshmallow creme. As I stuck my finger in and wrapped it around that celestial goodness, I knew exactly what I should write about. Today, I would like to pay homage to one of the greatest culinary masterpieces of all time--the marshmallow.

My love of this creamy, cloudy confection goes way back. One beautiful, afternoon, when I was a kindergartener, my brothers approached me and asked if I would to marry our next-door neighbor, Greg Hannig. Most certainly not! However, after several hours of negotiations on that seemingly, long, Saturday afternoon, they finally discovered the weakness of my five-year-old-heart. Seven, large marshmallows later, the fall nuptials were finally allowed to proceed. You may be thinking that seven, large marshmallows is hardly a comparable sum for a young lady's heart, but at the time, I remember feeling positive that I got the better end of the deal. I also remember watching "Ghostbusters" as a young child and wishing desperately that I could have been a resident of NYC during the demise of the Stay-Puffed Marshmallow man. Oh to have been a kid on the streets during that cornucopia of goodness!

Since those younger years, my mania has only increased. The advent of the PEEP was a heralded moment in my life. Not only were these lovely creatures MADE of marshmallow, additionally, the had been completely encrusted with bright, colored sugar! To the young, sweet-obsessed mind, there could be nothing greater! To this day, I still get giddy when I walk into any store front and see a new flat of rainbow-colored confections brought out at the beginning of each holiday.

Now a word about Peeps and marshmallows in general. To partake of a fresh marshmallow is something wonderful. However, to partake of a marshmallow or Peep, or even a jar of marshmallow creme that has been carefully and thoughtfully aged is an experience bordering on Nirvana. Like any great wine, a great marshmallow must pass through the rigors of a carefully crafted aging process. The packaging of all peeps should be pierced and left to age for 3-7 days (depending on your climate). A bag of marshmallows may take double or triple that time, but an opened bag of marshmallows, left to oxidize to create that chewy, delicious shell is the ticket good times, anytime. However, I must insert a word of caution! Over-aging of any marshmallow product will result in a product that will just turn to ash-or more appropriately--rock, in your mouth. For further aging advice, write in.

Now, lets talk about the divinity that comes when marshmallow is paired with another ingredient. Marshmallows and chocolate. Need I say more? One of the greatest marriages of two culinary ingredients has to be that of chocolate and marshmallow. Any holiday, outing or experience can only be enhanced by a chocolate covered marshmallow. Want to know what to get your sweetheart for Christmas? Chocolate covered marshmallow Santas. What to buy for Valentines day? Chocolate covered marshmallow hearts. Halloween? Chocolate covered marshmallow pumpkins. You get my point. Any protestation of love can only be enhanced with the gift of chocolate-covered-marshmallow anything. It is the gift that keeps on giving.

And speaking of gifts, here's one for all of you who are reading this and salivating at this very moment. If you ever find yourself in Europe and within a 20 mile radius of any Pierre Marcolini chocolatier, you must go! As you approach this throne of decadent, chocolate idolatry, you will only need this one, key word to gain access to the veritable Olympus of marshmallowy, chocolate goodness. And this is my gift. "Guimauve". The french word for marshmallow. This two-syllable utterance will unlock the succulent gates of cocoa laced, marshmallowy paradise that you have only been able to conjure up in your dreams. Guard it well. This knowledge you now posses is no mere trinket!

For all of us who are well away from Paris or Brussels for now, (and I shed a tear for all of us!) I invite you to pop open a bag--be they Campfire, Kraft of what have you--and celebrate with me. On cocoa, covered with chocolate, or aged to perfection, let us all raise a glass, or a handful and pay tribute to this sweet alchemy of perfection: the marshmallow.