Sunday, January 18, 2009

A Life Lesson

Today, I decided Reagan and I would make bread. And as usual, when my thoughts turn to baking, or anything kitchen related really, my heart started it's yearning towards that lovely, incredible piece of machinery I have been longing for for years....the KitchenAid Stand Mixer.

Let me give you some background here. I have wanted this particular mixer since it came out. I DREAM about this mixer. Josh keeps asking me where I would put it since I have ZERO cabinet space. I tell him not to worry, I'll make a place..it'll have a shrine (um, excuse me, place) of honor on my cabinet, where I can gaze lovinly at it each day.

Now, as anyone who has this mixer knows, or anyone who lusts after it, as I do, it's not the cheapest kitchen appliance on the market. The low end is just under $200...and well the high end, it's up there. I've had my eye on the $300 version, but would 'settle' for the $200 version. In fact, Josh has told me I should just go ahead and buy it....but everytime I go out to do so, I end up talking myself out of it for one reason or another. And I never knew why..until today.

As I said, Reagan and I were preparing to make bread. I got all the ingredients together for us and measured them out, with Reagan pouring and stirring. This is the fun and fustrating part of having a toddler of course---as it's wonderful to watch them grow, learn and help, but fustrating to see flour flying all over your freshly swept floor! Then came the mixing part, with my old trusty hand mixer. As I leaned over Reagan from where she was standing at the table on her chair, and held my hand over her's to guide the mixer around the bowl; as she began to imitate me by pushing the bowl in slow circles to aid the mixer, I realized, if I had that beautiful stand mixer, I'd be missing this.

I wouldn't have had the joy of watching Reagan's face as SHE held the mixer and watched all the ingredients blend together. I wouldn't have seen her delight as she snuck a finger into the bowl and tried a taste of the dough (or the horror..mixers can take fingers off you know!) It was magical really. One of those moments where I felt time had melted and I was standing in some 1950s style kitchen, helping my daughter make bread, like so many mothers before me.

And later as she helped me punch the dough down and laughed at how silly it seemed, I realized I definitely wouldn't be buying that dream mixer.

I have all the dreams any one person could ever need.