“Can I go grab your gift now?” And in that moment, I sat, his card to me in hand, and thought, crap I don’t even have your gift yet. “Sure…” and he exited the room, went down the stairs, and a few minutes later, he said as he came back up the stairs, “Now. I don’t want you to think of this as what it is. I want you to think of it as a commitment to your health” and with that, he set a box in front of me.
And in that box, was a blender.
We’ve been married for thirteen years. And he got me a blender.
I know, you might be thinking, FATHER OF THE BRIDE. What is this 1958?! (And thank you, friends, who reminded me of that scene because I watched it and remembered just how hilarious it is)
But the blender. Oh my great gravy boats — I was elated.
Yes. We are in the stage of marriage where I am so happy that my husband got me a kitchen appliance.
It makes us sound old and boring, right?
But it was so not boring OR old… rather more like 152 insights into my soul (to quote another great chick flick).
To be wholey fair, this wasn’t just a blender. This particular blender is basically a Genie in a bottle. In fact, I’m pretty sure it would make me dinner if I rubbed it the right way. It is kind of a jack of all trades in the blending world. It is a blender that I’ve been eyeing for years. One that while I’ve never truly asked for, but because he knows me in the way that he does, he knows how much I have salivated over it each time I’ve seen one in action. He knows me. And that’s why he got me a blender.
This man who bought me a blender for our anniversary has watched me as I’ve come out of a health battle and tried to find ways to eat more “whole” foods. He’s watched as I’ve battled the side effects of current medication {ahem. Bathroom time.} And have felt a bit defeated as of late because of it. He’s watched, listened, and learned about me, as his wife, for a decade +++. So he got me a blender.
This blender was his statement that he notices me. That he sees what interests me. And that he wants to keep me around for awhile. This blender was a love note of the sweetest kind. All inside one box.
He told me as we made our inaugural smoothies in them, “I researched a Low Fodmap diet and found that Kefir is really supposed to heal your gut” and then went to the fridge and grabbed some out that he’d picked up in preparation. And my heart nearly freaking broke outta my chest.
We both were so ridiculously excited as I looked at all that this blender can do. And all the things we could make together at home without having to spend 9.52 on a smoothie at the shop nearby. He talked through the foods he discovered might irritate my belly even more. And I felt all the heart-eyed emojis over the fact that this guy who I met at a basketball game in college just continues to stick right by my side through all my crazy. Through all life’s changes. And through the literal shits and the giggles.
He told me that he started planning this before Phil Dunphy bought Claire a mop on Modern Family and almost changed his plan because he didn’t want me to think he’d lost that lovin’ feelin’ because he got me a blender. But he stuck to his plan because he knew that I would get it. And indeed, I did. And I do.
I do, sweet man. Again and again.
There’s this different type of romance that happens between two people, I think, over time. It might sound like a coverup for boring or monotonous. But it really is quite lovely; this understanding that the most romantic part of life is often feeling soulfully connected to another person in ways that you don’t feel to anyone else. And that flowers and candles are nice. And those still happen. But badass blenders stand the test of time. And time is what I hope for most of all.
He bought me a blender because this is our happily ever after. Some days are rainbows and vacays. Some are smoothies and snuggles. Because a life isn’t just a highlight reel. A marriage isn’t just the wedding day. It’s the in and out, every day, always always rigamaroll. Some of it is still as exciting and as adventurous as day 1. And sometimes, it’s, well, familiar.
After 13 years. 3 kids. And a whole lotta other life. We are ever so fond of one another. Ridiculously comfortable. And yet, I’m happy we still know how to mix things up. In the kitchen. And everywhere else ;).
