Quel horreur

When I was in France, I ate my share (and more) of French pastries. And it showed. My favorite pants became a bit snug, regardless of the fact that I lived on the “quatri√®me √©tage” – the 5th floor for all you Americans out there. With no elevator. And lots of stairs.

Sadly, one thing I never tried were macarons. I know, quel horreur. I should’ve. There’s something absolutely sacrilegious about the fact that I just never even thought of it; it’s right up there with the fact that I didn’t drink wine until much, much later. At all. None in France (wine country!) – absolutely zero until years later.

I had my first taste of the delightfully crispy (on the outside) yet sticky (on the inside) cookies a few weeks ago. This wonderful patisserie opened up recently, and after having caught a glimpse a week before (they were closed – merde!), I just had to try. And oh, am I glad I did. They were delicious. Scrumptious. Sweet in just the right way and in just the right amount. They were crispy and delicious. I tried one of each flavor – orange, chocolate, coffee, lemon, pistachio, and raspberry. I should’ve taken a picture, but I didn’t think about it until after I had eaten them all.

I returned this past weekend to the amazing patisserie, and I was not disappointed. I sampled a few more flavors – lavender (flowery, but in a good way! quite subtle.), salted caramel (sweet with a hint of salt at the end), rosewater (oh.my.gosh.), and of course, coffee. It was my favorite last time.

Because I live about an hour and a half away (one would think it a travesty to be so far away from such a wonderful place, but alas, my hips thank me), I don’t get to sample their fares as soon as they are available. And though their hours are quite accomodating, I sometimes just don’t make it there when they are open. Because so many people know about the deliciousness that is the macaron, they tend to sell out relatively quickly. If one waits until the end of the day to get a macaron, one will not have much of a selection to choose from – if there are any left.

Macarons – two lavender, one salted caramel. I’d be surprised if they make it through the day!

Moral of the story: enjoy a macaron when you’re in France or Manchester, NH. You’ll be glad you did.

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Tired, happy, baby kisses.

Welp. My baby man turned ONE a couple weeks ago.

He started out like this.

Moved to this.

And now is this.

I don’t know how time has gone by so quickly.

It’s surreal, and somewhat bittersweet. I love the boy he has become, so inquisitive, so smart. He’s always asking “What’s that?” and pointing at things. I think it’s a preclude to him asking “Why?” at everything. I’m okay with that. It means he’s learning.

Pre-baby-man: our lives were relatively quiet; we would spend our evenings reading or playing video games, occasionally meeting up with friends. We’re both home-bodies, so we were perfectly content not doing much outside of the house. Our evenings were quiet, and we were okay with that.

After baby-man: we don’t often go out. Our evenings are only quiet after 7:45pm, which is the bedtime of said baby-man. We eat dinner and play, and then after he has bathtime, he sleeps. He sleeps easily and well. His latest thing is attempting to dive into the crib so he can lay down and snuggle his bear, waiting for his blanket to cover him, ready to sleep.

But I digress.

After baby-man: we don’t often go out. It’s actually rather rare. But we’re okay with that. (See Pre-baby-man for explanation.) We still read or catch up on our shows (though “catch up” is now the operative term; it’s rare that we catch them on the night – or the night after, to be honest – they originally air), and we have our together-time. It’s different, but a good different.

“Logan, come give Momma kisses.” Baby-man toddles over (yes, toddles – he’s walking!), open-mouthed and ready to kiss Momma. Usually a big grin is hulking behind the open-mouthed kisser, and after the “kiss,” he runs away. Yes, he runs, too.

The first year has been amazing. It has been crazy (we bought our first house in January), wonderful, and difficult. But who said raising a child was easy??

We have an amazing little boy, and a fabulous family. We’re incredibly happy, smooshed in there with a whole lotta tired. But it’s a good tired.

And we wouldn’t have it any other way.

Logan and Momma pumpkin picking!

Logan and Daddy watching the Patriots!

Reading cards and opening presents at Logan’s birthday party!