S’mores – Recipe for Family Fun

Despite many pleas from the children, I have not taken them camping yet, which means we haven’t made what I will call REAL s’mores.  Yes, I have one of those s’mores makers that were all the rage a few years ago and I vaguely recall making some s’mores with them that way, but having been a Girl Scout, this hardly seemed satisfactory.

You see, I am a hard-core, s’mores-loving-gal.  How hard-core?  I actually registered for these cool telescoping marshmallow forksfrom Crate & Barrel when JavaDad and I got married.  When we had that little scanning gun and I saw those, I just had to have them!

When I took the incoming Junior League Board of Directors off to a mountain top retreat to plan our new year, I knew that our “fun activity” would be s’mores making in the gigantic fireplace at the lodge.  What I didn’t know was that several of the women had never made s’mores before!  The ensuing fun was quite hysterical.  I’d post photos if I didn’t think they’d kill me.

So imagine my delight when I came home Thursday to find a box from Hershey’s, with all the fixings for s’mores — including a zippered case with four telescoping marshmallow forks (with far safer ends, I might add, than my Crate & Barrel ones, which could show up as a murder weapon on an episode of Bonesone day)!  Despite the fact that it was thoughtfully packed with an ice pack, as it was one of the hottest days of the week, the chocolate bars had liquefied (which I rectified by putting them in the fridge), so please pardon the fact that they appear a bit mangled in the photos.

No, this was not some new, delicious form of junk mail, the kind folks at Hershey’s have sponsored a train ride for several area bloggers to go to the major conference in New York City this week, BlogHer, and I’m one of the bloggers who will be hopping on the S’mores Road Trip to BlogHer.  I’m quite excited about the train ride, not only because of course, it defrays the cost of going to the conference to me (the rest of the conference is on my dime), and also the fun I’ll have gabbing with some fantastic bloggers, but because I’ve never taken a long train ride, so this will be a new adventure for me!

But back to the s’mores.  Somehow both kids knew what this was all about — I think they saw it on a PBS show.  For some reason, JavaBoy chimed in, “Hey, we can go to the woods and get crickets!  Ruff Ruffman (PBS character) says they taste like peanut butter!”  Uh, keep your “peanut butter” out of my chocolate kiddo!  Me thinks I’ve let him have a little too much exposure to nature if he’s willing to eat crickets.  Maybe I should let him play with the Wii more?

S’mores in suburbia

In case you’ve never made s’mores, you simply roast — or flambe if you prefer! — a marshmallow over a flame, then sandwich it between two graham crackers with a bit of chocolate on top of the marshmallow.  The heat of the marshmallow should melt the chocolate to make an ooey-gooey mess.  Yum!  Girl Scouts usually lay claim to this treat and the name is usually credited to the cries to have “some more” of the camp fire treat.

Clearly, it was time to re-introduce this treat to the JavaKids more appropriately.

I just couldn’t resist those telescoping forks.  But alas, we had no campfire.  Nor, a cool firepit.  And it was way too hot to contemplate building a fire in the fireplace.  This meant… using the grill.  One problem, I have never used the grill.  Ever.  Don’t get me wrong, I’m no sissy.  In my reporter days I went out on drug busts with the cops, I’ve jumped out of airplanes, I’m no wimp.  But my father was always King of the Grill and then my husband has always been proud of his, so it’s just not been something I’ve ever needed to do.  JavaDad was about to leave town and didn’t want to hang around making s’mores, but realized I wasn’t going to touch his new grill without a lesson.

A few twists of some knobs and a push of the ignitor and VOILA, I made FIRE!

This is not how we did it in the Girl Scouts, but pretty darn close. 

The final verdict? 

  • Telescoping forks — way cool!
  • JavaBoy: “Gimme s’more s’mores!”
  • JavaGirl: prefers to each component separately
  • Me: “Move over kids, Mommy wants some s’mores!”
  • JavaDad: “What happened to my grill?”

Other s’mores options:

We tried the “foil packet method” and I burned most of them.  I now realized that maybe I didn’t leave room for “air to circulate.”  Or maybe I just left them on the grill too long.

We took the show on the road and went to a friend’s house and made them using her fire pit on the deck — way cool.  Though she greatly disapproved of the telescoping forks and the long wooden skewers I had and thinks the kids should have to forage through the woods for sticks like we did growing up.  

If you’re going to be at BlogHer…

Hershey will have a S’mores “Snacktivity” Suite at BlogHer in booth #4233 and will be giving out S’mores branded bags and will be putting together a mural of photos of favorite S’mores moments.

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Disclosure:  As part of the S’mores Road Trip to BlogHer, I received a round trip ticket on Amtrak to the convention, and Hershey-branded items.  Any views expressed in this post are my own.  Because as y’all know, when it comes to my blog, I write what I want to!

Better Than a BlogRoll…

I learned about Babble.com’s Top 50 Mommy Bloggers list when fellow Silicon Valley Moms Blog network member Jessica Gottlieb was named to it (she’s part of the LA Moms Blog, I’m part of the DC Metro Moms Blog).  In fact, the original Silicon Valley Moms Blog made the cut as well (congratulations, Jill!)  There are a lot of other familiar names on the list, blogs I have been reading and some of them are women I’ve met at BlogHer or traded tweets with on Twitter.  But there are also some I didn’t know — and that’s what I love about the blogosphere — when you accidentally bump into another kindred spirit out in cyberspace. 

Babble recognizes that although the Top 50 are certainly noteworthy, that there are a lot of terrific bloggers out there, and they are letting readers nominate them, and then give a “thumbs up” if someone has already nominated a favorite.  I think that’s pretty darned cool!   So often you see the same names rise to the top (with good reason), and this is a nice effort to broaden the horizons.

A lot of the names on that list are already some of my favorite blogs, and some are going to become new favorites.  Amongst some of my current favorites are Sarah and the Goon SquadToddler Planet, Jodifur, and Wife And Mommy all of whom I have the pleasure of having met in person as well as reading their blogs and they are terrific women as well as terrific writers.   As I scroll through the list, I see more that look intriguing and I’m going to find some time to check them out and you should, too!  (Not that I want you to stop reading here, of course!)

And yes, I’m thrilled that not only did someone include Caffeine And a Prayer, but people other than my husband and mother-in-law gave it a thumbs up!  Thank you!  It means a lot!  If you feel strongly enough about Caffeine and a Prayer to add a thumbs up, it may encourage others to check it out.

In the meantime, I recommend checking out both the Top 50 list and the reader-nominated list — there are a lot of fantastic writers out there worth reading!  One of these days I’ll get around to updating my blogroll…

Review of PlasmaCar Ride-on Toy — on NEW review site!

plasmacarkidI have always loved sharing my opinions of products with friends — and now that I have a blog, I can not only share those opinions with you, I can also sometimes provide feedback to the companies who make the products. BlogHer is an organization for women who blog (well, that’s the simple explanation) and I respect what they have to say, and they have recommended that reviews be kept separate from other content, so I have launched a separate site, Caffeinated Reviews, so I can bring you “Honest reviews with PEP!” in addition to what I write here.

I am thrilled that my inaugural review is the PlasmaCar toy because it was a really fun product to review — a toy that both kids and parents can enjoy! So please check out the new blog — blogs are always a work in progress so pardon any cyber-dust as I’ll probably continue to tinker with it for a few weeks — and read the first review and comment! I have more reviews coming and soon, JavaDad and another dad soon to reveal his online identity will be joining me to do some guest reviews from the dad perspective.

I’m Fat

They Shoot Fat Women, Don’t They?  was the title of a 1989 episode of a TV show called Designing Women. In the episode the character played by Delta Burke, Suzanne Sugarbaker, always proud of her beauty queen looks, realized that she was now seen as “the fat girl” by her friends at a high school reunion.  She was awarded the “Most Changed” trophy at her fifteen year reunion, as  a snark at her physical appearance, and she accepted the award with a lovely speech letting everyone know that she was going to take it as a testimony of how she has changed from shallow beauty to a woman of intellectual and emotional substance rather than the hurtful comment on her weight gain it was originally intended.

I remember reading an article about this particular episode a long time ago, because the episode was written specifically to address Burke’s real-life weight gain.  She was a gorgeous, sexy slender woman when hired, and her weight gain became a problem on set between Burke and the show’s producers/writers.  Burke’s weight gain was due to a combination of physical and psychological issues and the more she felt pressured about it, the worse it got.  Since then, her weight has see-sawed and she has launched a line of plus-sized clothing.  At some point she shifted from running from her weight to trying to help others who were heavy feel better about it.

I’m outing myself as a fat woman.  I have been terrified of old friends seeing photos of me online in the shape I am in currently and I have decided to end the terror now.  I’m not happy with my current appearance, but it is what it is.  I continue to struggle and work on it and I’m proud of myself for the things I don’t let it affect and pissed at myself for the things I do let it affect.  I’ve really enjoyed reconnecting with old friends online over the past year and I’ve decided if I’m going to be genuine, I’m going to have to have to stop hiding.  Yes, some are going to say/think unkind things.  There is a certain ex-boyfriend out there who will certainly do so and probably thank God he didn’t marry me after all.  There’s a reason why he’s an ex.

But as I’ve come to learn over the past year, most of us really don’t give a damn how any of us look these days, we’re just glad to reconnect about the common experiences we had growing up together and then the experiences we’ve had apart in geography but yet in common in experience as we’ve moved through those milestones in our careers and personal lives.   I am so much more than my outer shell, I always have been, and I always will be.  We all are.  No matter how thin I get again, I will never look at anyone’s physical appearance the same way again. 

The Journey

All my life I have struggled with body image.  Growing up in Miami surrounded by half-clothed people, how could I not?  When I was 105 pounds in high school, I was always self-conscious of my not-perfectly-flat stomach.  Heck, I guess it started even before that, it started when I was in ballet class at Martha Mahr studio, where we were required to wear a thin, black elastic around our waist so she could see if our stomach bulged at all beyond the elastic.  I did not win the genetic lottery when it came to stomach muscles, even at my thinnest, I never had that perfectly taut stomach.  I stopped wearing bikinis for the most part at age 11.  I wanted to go wind surfing with friends in high school on Hobie Beach, but I was constantly terrified of how I would look to others in my swimsuit.  Do you have any idea of how much I would kill to have that figure and weight again these days?  That weight would not be realistic for me as a grown woman now, but I wish I could shake that insecure girl by the shoulders and say “get out there and enjoy life!  Put on that bathing suit and have fun!” I still hate wearing a bathing suit now and have many more reasons to be self-conscious, but I refuse to let my insecurity get in the way of my kids having fun at the pool and the beach, so I boldly go forth in my swimdress in public where I would not have taken my 105-pound-self before 20 years ago.

In college, I had my highs and lows, but I had to get my high down quickly as I was there to be a broadcast journalist and we know fatties were not allowed on TV — in the age of Oprah we’re a little more forgiving now. 

I was so afraid of the Freshman Fifteen that I actually lost weight my first semester. But I gained a little my sophomore year.  All it took was a comment from my steady boyfriend about his “mother being concerned about (my) weight” for me to go into a tailspin about it.  I lost the weight thanks to a very stringent diet and doctor-prescribed pills.  By my senior year I was anchoring the morning news and reporting for the evening news.

In my early twenties, I realize now that I managed to date a series of guys who wanted me to be their trophy girlfriend and who terrorized me about any incremental weight gain — a 5-10 pound weight gain was enough to threaten our relationship.  And I’m ashamed to admit that I allowed myself to buy into that.  I’m much too smart and always have been much too smart to fall victim to that.  But I did.  And I regret it.  Fortunately I never married any of those men and I was wise enough to always have a certain threshold which I would not cross — you can only step so far until I cry foul. 

In 1995 I was in a terrible hit and run accident that knocked both my knee caps out of place, cracked my ribs, nearly dislocated my neck, gave me very bad whiplash, and a prominent bruise from the seat belt that was looked like a purple beauty sash – Miss Car Accident 1995.  My car caught on fire and I was fortunate that one of the witnesses to the accident was a nurse who ran over and helped me.  I was taken to the hospital by ambulance and for the first 20 minutes or so my brain was so scrambled that I wasn’t sure what year it was, I was off by 10 years.   This accident ultimately led to three knee surgeries over a two-year period and chronic neck and back pain and the beginning of a history of migraine headaches.  This accident, naturally, derailed my walking program and did lead to weight gain.  I still have residual effects from the accident and can be perfectly fine and then one false move and can have knee pain for weeks.

One very positive thing about this accident — it in a way, led to JavaDad (still at this point, just a childhood friend) and I getting together as a couple — although it took a while.  When the pain meds would wear off in the middle of the night, 3am to be exact, and my chest would spasm with pain, he would let me call him in Miami to help keep myself calm until the next set of pain meds kicked in.  He had, already, by this point, told me he loved me, but we couldn’t quite get our act together to be in the same state yet, so we didn’t end up dating until three years after the fact.  But the act of devotion of talking to me on the phone at 6am his time while I was in pain, meant a lot to me Our wedding, 2002After the car accident, my weight went up and down, more health issues have come and gone, including two very difficult pregnancies and my son stretching my stomach muscles 5 inches apart (I need to get that surgically repaired) and my trigeminal neuralgiaBut the biggest struggle has been with my mind. I still hate thinking of myself as a fat woman.
 I tried to hide from it.  But then I had to accept it.  And I had to stop letting  it stop me from doing things. 

Which I have, except when it comes to dealing with people from my past. I never thought a fat woman could rise to the top of the Junior League, but these wonderful women saw that I am more than my weight and the League is not about appearances despite all jokes about cardigans and pearls — we are about developing the potential of WOMEN, not judging body types.  I have made many wonderful friends here in Virginia who have never made me feel conscious of my weight (although yes, I have met some women who did discriminate against me due to my weight).  But I have always been afraid of “what will people back home think” if they saw me now? Well, I don’t know.  I’m a woman whose had a successful career (two, in fact), married a childhood friend who has loved me at 105 pounds and has loved me at significantly more than that, has two fantastic kids, is involved in her community, edited a book, lauched a blog, and tries to be good to her friends and family.  And struggles with her weight.  What do the people back home think?  I’ve decided to let go of the terror and let it be.  I will no longer hold back on posting photos and sharing videos.  If you are my friend, you’ll now know that I struggle, but you’ll already know that I’m so much more than what the camera sees.  I suspect you struggle with something, too.  And you know what, I wouldn’t be any less of a friend to you for it — whether you are balding, divorced, never married, fat, too skinny, never had kids, unemployed or whatever other thing you might fear being judged for in this society where we can judge each other for so many things by the time you reach our age, take a deep breath and let it go.  Whatever it is, accept it and then move on and make the best of your situation and your life.  I’m refusing to let terror hold me back any more — I hate to think of the opportunities and joys I’ve squandered already and I refuse to anymore. 

And for everyone who is thin or athletic, I hope the next time you see a fat person riding a bike, going for a walk, working out at the gym, you’ll silently think, “Good for you for being out there and doing it!”

And JavaDad, I love you.  Thanks for loving me through thick and thin (or thin and thick).

Leaving On a Jet Plane…

drawing2I still feel a thrill every time I get ready to go on a trip.  Maybe more so now that I’m a stay-at-home mother — the last couple of years of my career I didn’t travel as often as I did in previous years and I miss that.  So I’m in that adrenaline high right now of packing up for a plane ride… BY MYSELF.  Let’s face it, it is much different packing up to go on a (quasi) business trip than packing up to go on trip with the family.  I’m headed off to BlogHer and I won’t be taking a car seat, a portable DVD player, Matchbox cars, crayons, any Leap Frog toys, etc.  Just my own overstuffed suitcase.

But the question everyone asks me is, “How are the kids going to handle it?” 

And the answer is — just fine!  My kids really are perfectly fine with Mommy being away.  So fine, in fact, that if I didn’t know better, I might actually get my feelings hurt.  But here’s the thing, I’ve worked really hard at instilling a sense of confidence and independence in them, and I take their lack of hysteria when I leave as a sign that I’ve succeeded.  Which is not to say that when other children have separation anxiety there parents have done something wrong — every child has a different personality type and every family has a different dynamic.  Who knows what would happen if we threw a third child into the mix?

My involvement in volunteer organizations takes me out of the home for evening meetings and the kids have gotten used to me leaving some evenings and them having time for Daddy.  There are no tears, just hugs and kisses goodbye and goodnight as they are often asleep by the time I return home.  Having spent the entire day together, they are fine with me leaving, and now having Daddy-time.

The first time I ever was away from JavaBoy overnight, however, was when JavaGirl was born.   I was a wreck.  He didn’t seem to mind at all — he had his grandmother to play with!  He did, however, miss his father the second night (JavaDad stayed with me in the hospital as I was in a lot of pain from the c-section) and asked for him at bedtime, but then settled down.  But for the most part, he basically understood where we were and why, and that’s all that mattered.

Over time I’ve had a few opportunities to be away from the kids for retreats or conferences and every time, it’s been harder on me than them.   They’ve always been perfectly fine – I’ve always prepped them well in advance and then called home to make contact and that seems to work.  They have a pocket calendar we use to mark everything that is going on and I made inserts for an airplane leaving and an airplane returning, so they’ve known about my trip to Chicago all month.  JavaBoy counts the number of days I’m going to be gone, JavaGirl asks me every time she sees a plane in the sky if that is the airplane I will be on.  A week ago, Java Boy made a drawing for me, and proudly told me it was a picture of the two of us and he made it so that I could have him with me on the trip.  It’s been on the fridge and tonight he reminded me to take it with me so that if I needed to remember him, I’d have it.  Not with a worried voice or a sad voice, just his practical, matter-of-fact voice.  I assured him I’ll never forget my boy.  (How could I??)

He then filled me in on all his big plans for things he’s going to do while I’m gone.  Whew!  Sounds like I’m getting out of town just in time!  Good luck JavaDad!

My mother once told me that I was always so thrilled to go off to school that it sort of hurt her feelings, but she took it as a sign that she had done something right.  And now I understand what she meant — my kids rarely look back when I drop them off or when I leave.  But if I ever I doubt their devotion to me, all I have to do is open the door upon my return and feel them run towards me and wrap themselves around me while yelling, “Mommy, you’re back!”

Yes, I’m excited to go on my trip.  But come Sunday, I’ll be equally excited to come home.