Tag Archives: registry

I loved registering for gifts. Plain and simple, it was an afternoon o’ pure fun for my favorite redhead and me. Walking the aisles of our fave department/home stores and adding everything from toaster ovens to cake stands to what is essentially the ultimate kitchen and home wish list was so much fun.

Martha Stewart Lisbon collection

Since we’re both older 20-somethings (doesn’t that sound better than “pushing 30?”), we already have most the essentials. I mean, if we had been waiting for the day we were engaged and got a chance to register for gifts, we would’ve eaten a lot of meals cooked on a George Foreman off of paper plates. I’m sure other older – I mean, more “mature” – brides can relate. All that is to say, it was quite fun to get to register for items we’ve been really wanting but maybe don’t need as much. I mean, I make do with the little coffee bean grinder whose lid I have to hold down while it’s operating. But getting the opportunity to register for a super duper fancy shmancy coffee bean grinder? That filled my heart with joy and caffeinated gladness.

The Cellar cake stand

Anyhoo, despite the massive amounts of registry fun we had, I realize – in retrospect – we may have made some mistakes. You know, hindsight’s 20/20 and all that jazz. The biggest mistake was that we (read I) jumped the gun and registered way too soon. With a euphoric engagement fog hanging over me (don’t worry, the fog does eventually dissipate, and you’re able to make logical decisions again), I just simply couldn’t wait to do anything wedding-related. I wanted to do it all. Every last little wedding task I could get my hands on, by golly, I was gonna. It makes me giggle a little now when I look back and realize we registered after being engaged for less than a month. Less than a month, people! Why is that a problem, you ask? Because a number of items we registered for are no longer in stock. Which is apparently what happens after, you know, several months pass. Whoops.

Brabantia bread box

So, in recent weeks, The Beau and I have had to do some registry tweaking, making sure it’s up to date, with items that are currently available, should someone actually want to purchase them. Kind of important an important detail, I suppose. Thankfully, our registries are available online and easy to edit with our tushies firmly planted on the couch.

I know the title of this post is “registry mistakes,” but it’s really just the one, kinda big mistake. But I thought “the one kinda big registry mistake” sounded a little too foreboding. And I didn’t wanna scare anyone.

Registering for gifts was the perfect distraction from looking at color swatches and calculating numbers. Oh. My. Gosh. Who knew registering could be so fun? It took literally all afternoon on Sunday, and we left the aisles of Milwaukee’s department stores dotted in our beads of sweat and as exhausted as if we had decided to shoot hoops with the Bucks at the Bradley Center (What? I assume that would be pretty exhausting.). But holy crap, was it ever fun.

Like the organized, careful planners that we are (You are correct; we have no friends.), we had done plenty of research ahead of time. We scoured department store websites perusing their selections of flatware, linens and double boilers (Don’t judge me; I really want one!) and narrowed the field of registry prospects to three. Then, in a day-of, last-minute decision, we – gasp! – cut one of the original frontrunners from the lineup. We went with our guts and selected two places we liked the most and that we felt our friends and family would enjoy as well.

We started at locale K, and as we sat at the customer service desk filling out our information and getting the how-to instructions for using the super cool bar code scanner doodad, I felt butterflies. I’m not even going to pretend like I was cool, calm and collected about embarking on this tried-and-true, you’re-really-getting-married activity. But, anyone who knows me wouldn’t expect me to have been anything resembling cool, calm or collected. I’m pretty sure they would all expect me to have reacted just as I was: utterly freaking out with excitement. After being sent away with said scanner in hand (Russ’ hand to be exact. Russ is a techie and an engineer; he was excited to play with an electronic toy.), we hit the aisles stacked with coffee pots, blenders and cutting boards and went to town.

We oohed and aahed over coffee grinders (You know you’re a boring adult when…), food processors and bendy cheese graters (Thank you, Bendy Cheese Grater Inventor. You have finally found a solution to the awkward grater-not-fitting-in-or-over-the-bowl conundrum. I’m pretty sure you deserve one of those beer commercial salutes.). And we zapped away at each item we decided we couldn’t live without. We left store K with a great starting assortment of wish list items and headed for store M.

For as excited as I was sitting down at store K and going over the procedures (Seriously, how hard is it to point and shoot at things you want?), I really starting hyperventilating with glee at store M, which was just a tad bit nicer, and where they treated us like we were their special, honored guests (I don’t blame them; they were excited at the prospect of money being spent in their store.). They ushered us into a lovely, quiet office and spoke to us like we were their most valued customers. Then, once again, we were sent to poke and prod and inspect price stickers with another magical scanner in tow.

I was in registry heaven in this second store. The shelves were dripping in beautiful bakeware, wine glasses and cutlery sets. I was in love. We zapped away at cake stands (!!!), colanders and towels, and it was while there that I realized I made a crucial registry day mistake: I wore heels. By the end of our excursion, I was limping. And Russ was chiding me for wearing heels. Alas, no amount of pain or I-Told-You-Sos from my beloved could disrupt my euphoria.

A euphoria whose crowning moment came when we scanned the bar code for one Artisan Series KitchenAid mixer in the color of … wait for it …  boysenberry! I’m still swooning.