Surprise!

Last week, Aaron came into the kitchen to tell me he had a surprise for me. I immediately told him I didn't want to know. "Stop talking about it," I said. "It won't be a surprise anymore."

Aaron is great at coming up with ways to surprise me. But he is also terrible at keeping things a surprise because he is always so excited about what he's come up with that he can't wait to share it. It's like that SNL character, Sue, played by Kristen Wiig.

So he came up with a compromise: he had me play 20 Questions to guess what the surprise was. That way, he wouldn't be telling me, but I could still know.

"Is it used for entertainment?"

"Is it something you eat?"

"Is it something you wear?"

"Have I ever owned something like this?"

"Does it require electricity/batteries?"

His last two answers (Yes, but this is an upgrade and Yes) made it click in my brain for some reason.

"Is it a new mixer?"

Yes. It was not only a new mixer, but a fancy-pants Kitchen Aid Artisan stand mixer in a color they call Cinnamon Gloss (dark red). I believe I blinked a few times. Then I teared up a little. Then I hugged him. Because I have always, always wanted one of these mixers, but it was the kind of thing I never thought I would get--it was too much for a birthday or Christmas or anniversary present, because we don't spend extravagantly on gifts. It was certainly not something you get "just because." Unless, of course, you're Aaron and you find a great deal on the Internet (a sale plus two rebates).

The mixer was delivered today by our friendly UPS man, who has woken me out of a dead sleep a few times because our bedroom is at the front of the house and the front door really resonates when someone pounds on it. He had a hard time lugging the large box into my messy living room, and I couldn't offer him much help since I was barefoot and in a hastily-thrown-on robe.

Aaron pulled it out of the box and set it up on the counter. It's incredibly shiny. Sleek, even. In my kitchen, it's like when you see an expensive car driving through a lower-middle-class neighborhood. You think someone must have made a mistake, because it's just too good.

I know, I probably shouldn't get this worked up over a mixer, but I love to bake. For so long this appliance has rested in the back of my mind as an aspirational object. This thing will let me do what I already do, but even better. I may be placing too much importance on a THING, an IT, an OBJECT. At the same time, however, this mixer is an investment, and the returns will be measured not in how much I get out of using it, but in how others benefit from the breads, cakes, brownies, and cookies I bring them. Because I get a kick out of baking for people, especially for no reason other than the fact that I like them.

Now who wants banana bread?

On Turning Thirty

According to my birth certificate, I turned thirty yesterday.

I was lucky enough to spend the entire day with Aaron. We ate good meals. We visited with friends. I smiled a lot. All in all, a good day.

I did not sprout new gray hairs. I did not instantly gain crow's feet. I did not burst into flames. But I feel sad, yet resigned, in saying goodbye to being a twenty-something.

At the same time, however, I feel like I did some good things with the past decade of my life.

I started it with my first international travel experience, studying abroad in Rome (when you grow up in Michigan, Canada doesn't count as international), and ended the decade with an even bigger adventure that still seems inconceivable. I thought I would travel a lot more, but I'm still incredibly fortunate that I was able to visit places I had been imagining for years.

During my twenties, spent a lot of time in classrooms, on both sides of the desk. Who knows how many hours I spent reading, writing, arguing, teaching, and learning? The most important thing I've learned is that there is always so much more to learn, which is a very exciting prospect. There's no excuse to be bored. I may not have been a Jeopardy contestant, but I'm pretty good at crossword puzzles and trivia questions because I've loaded my brain with endless facts.

The best part of my twenties was figuring out how to let someone else be part of my life. I also had to learn to accept that it means he's in all of it. Aaron's been a good sport, to say the least. He was nice enough to marry me, and I was just smart enough to let him. 

I was very kind to my liver. Apparently, that's rare.

I don't know what being a thirty-something is going to look like, but I have a sneaking suspicion I will have to be much more responsible. I'm hoping that if I dress more like an adult, it will never involve pantsuits. There will probably be children, and I'm okay with that. There will probably be a dog, too, if Aaron gets his way. I know we'll move at least one more time (because we're not staying in southern Illinois forever). Hopefully, there will be real jobs (with real pay) in our futures, too.

But I know this: even though I keep getting older, that doesn't really mean I'm going to grow up. If I did, I might lose the best parts of being me.