March 10, 2004~~8:33 p.m.
No Salt on My Margarita
Most people, when they go to register for their wedding gifts at Macy�s or wherever, envision a married life of blissful housekeeping. They choose their housewares carefully, some couples taking weeks to pick out the perfect pattern of china and appropriately matching flatware. Light-hearted battles are waged over the color of the Kitchenaid mixer and how well it corresponds to the plastic patio dinnerware. Brides are surprised by just how important the color of the bed sheets are to their otherwise apathetic husbands-to-be. And the husbands-to-be are pleasantly surprised at just how fun it is to shoot the barcode gun at their items of choice. Young couples idealize their futures and picture themselves cooking up large feasts for other coupled friends in their Tuscan-style kitchens in their brand new suburban subdivisions. They see themselves shaking up mixed drinks and pouring them into their Waterford crystal martini glasses. They can see the future, where evenings spent in their Ralph Lauren sheets are sexy and romantic. Since they have months until their wedding date, they ponder laboriously over which shaker to register for and which cut of Waterford to choose. For most couples, the prospect of children and their effect on the registry gifts is an vague and far-off notion. Omar and I only had two evenings to do our registry at Macy�s last January and when we went to sign up, we didn�t even have a wedding date, although we knew we would be getting married that month sometime. Needless to say, the little Chinese lady who filled out our paperwork, Madge, was a bit stunned at our haste and apparent disorganization. Combined with my morningnoonandnight sickness, we were a stunning pair. Madge told us that we would take weeks to finish our registry. We were halfway done in two hours. We had to make quick decisions, and as it turned out, we made good ones. But the other day, it dawned on me that our pricey Kitchenaid blender has been utilized more for the pureeing of peas and sweet potatoes than anything else. In fact, I have never once blended a margarita in the thing. I was pregnant when it arrived, so I couldn�t drink alcohol, then I was nursing, so I couldn�t drink alcohol, and we have a baby, so we really don�t entertain much, and then there�s the simple fact that I don�t really like margaritas. Save for the few protein shakes Omar has made, our expensive and lovely blender has really just saved us money on baby food and has made me feel a little more like a hippie mom for making my own. Elizabeth, of course, is thrilled. It shows on her little orange and green stained face whenever she partakes in one of my special home-blended meals. And don�t even ASK about our how much we use our stemware or bed linens with a baby around. Suffice it to say, we don�t even have any Ralph Lauren sheets and our Waterford is all still in the boxes. But...I'd rather have Elizabeth than a pitcherful of blender drinks.
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