Wanted: A Modern Baby Chair, not an 80's Pleather Revival...

I had forgotten how expensive baby stuff is!

I mean, it's like a wedding - mention the 'baby' word and they'll add a little extra.

It may also have something to do with my taste. But I prefer to blame the manufacturers and retailers - it makes me feel better.

I am really pining after a rocking chair this time around. I got a really cushy, large armchair for when Miss 3 was born and while it is cosy, comfy and I ADORE it, the one problem we discovered very quickly was that a rocking function would have been a welcome miracle.

I have been trying to find a modern rocking chair. I'm not into these 80's revival, grey pleather rockers. They make me want to poke my eyes out with a fork. Or stare into the sun long enough to burn my retina's off.

Source. *shudder*

No offence to anyone who has or previously had one of these chairs. I have sat in them and, while they are comfortable, they just don't float my boat.

I really want something modern, comfortable and something that I can work into a baby's room without it being an eyesore.

I've managed to cut it down to 3 options, but I'm the first to admit they're quite possibly out of the price range (no matter how much I stare longingly at the pictures and WILL the price to drop by 75%).

Luca Glider Chair, $1,000 from montedesign.net. The closest thing available in Australia is the Ollie Ella Chair, which starts from $1,699 and can be purchased from babyology.com.au

The Luca Glider looks so good. And the Ollie Ella chair looks fantastic, too. I would be so happy with one of these, but I would have to sell a kidney and I'm not sure doctors look favourably on women who are wanting major surgery during pregnancy for the sake of a chair.

No matter how fabulous it is.

Oilo Penelope Glider, $1,349 from allmodern.com

I love this chair. It's gorgeous, and looks sooooo comfy! I like that it has a high back for support, cushioned arms and great padded seating. It's just a bit expensive, and when you consider that I'd then have to cover shipping to Australia...

Sob.

Nurseryworks Storytime Rocker, $750 from allmodern.com, available in Australia from metromum.com.au ($1,050) and bebeonline.com.au ($899.95) 

I love that you can fit 2 people on this chair...more specifically a mumma with a bubba and a Miss 3 who wants a story. This is perfect for long story time with feeds etc included.

Cheaper than the first two, and has more benefits! The fact that I can find it in Australia is awesome, but the dollar factor could be an issue with The Man. If not my conscience (who only shows up at inconvenient times like this...).

Overall the Storytime Rocker has my heart. It's perfect and ticks all the boxes. If this was bub #1 then I would probably pick the first chair, given that we would be back to 'disposable income' days and I'd only be thinking about managing one baby! But the rocker would fit us as a family, and it means everyone can be involved.

Perhaps it will go a long way to soothing any sibling rivalry...?

So tell me, did you have a rocker/glider for your bub? Did you find it freakin' awesome, or just a chair with a rocker bit on it? Which chair would you choose, if you had to do it all over again?

Amazeballs...

Well, there's absolutely something to be said for my new zen outlook on life.

Apparently the universe decided my grown-up 'tude was a good sign - today I got the call that our insurance claim from the robbery has been all finalised and approved.

It's all over. We don't have to keep going over and over the story to get quotes and estimates on things that already have been estimated and quoted to death!

We can move on - look forward, not backward.

Okay - it's a really shitty way to get the chance for a shopping spree - but hell yeah - I am gonna get my shopping freak on!

It's all about looking on the bright side, you know.

Joy to the World...

No - our claim hasn't been finalised. That won't happen until the next ice age, and I'm sure I'll make my peace with that. Probably the day before I die.

Anyway, considering my 'woe is me' post yesterday, I'm feeling good today (I feel good - nah nah nah nah nah nah nah - I knew that I would, now - nah nah nah nah nah nah nah - I feeeeeeeeeel good...)

Maybe it's because I slept well, maybe it's because I'm having a good hair day...and maybe it's because I'm hopping on a flight to Alice Springs today and I'm escaping the cesspool of destruction created by my family while I was away last week.

Whatever the reason, for the first time this morning the NT News didn't look like reading it would waste 5 minutes of precious life. In fact - the front cover made my heart skip a beat and I almost screamed.

www.ntnews.com.au

It's not often the NT News deems a story worthy to replace the required Crocodile on the front page.

I feel the Myer announcement could have taken a full page, but obviously someone being attacked with an iced coffee is right up there, too.

It reaffirms my committment to only drinking Farmer's Union.

So Myer, on behalf of all the people in Darwin who have moved here from other capital cities, got off the plane and thought 'where the hell am I?' or, in my case 'What do you mean they don't have department stores!!?' I would like to say THANK YOU.

You will drag this city kicking and screaming into the new millennium - and I look forward to it.

Wolf Creek John Jarrett and the GPS of Death on a Long Weekend

Sounds dramatic, huh?  Well, dramatic it may be, but it's completely and utterly true. For a few hours on the long weekend I honestly thought Wolf Creek John Jarrett was going to jump out and get us:

I'll never see Wolf Creek - the ad's alone made me want to cry

It was the disturbing close to a rather full weekend.

Saturday was a nothing day - and I'm not ashamed to admit that I slept all day. I left the Guru to manage the Toddler and I snoozed the day away on the couch, occasionally opening one eye to view the child-cyclone-path-of-destruction that surrounded me. I decided to just pretend it was all part of her Pro Hart phase and we'd soon be making money out of this kind of mess. It settled my mind enough to go back to sleep, and that's all that mattered.



I didn't see a dragonfly on my floor so much as a dragonfly poop

Sunday rolled around quickly, much to my disgust, but it was a shopping day and we went and bought some clothes, a DVD kit for inside the car and some other stuff. Once the shopping was complete, the Guru went home to have a lie down (it's the stress of spending money, see) and the Toddler and I continued on to the Greek Glenti that was being held on the Esplanade.

My Mum and a friend of the family from Japan came with us, so I had help wrangling the Toddler through the masses of people. We were all cool, calm and collected until suddenly my child tried to leap from my arms and burst my eardrum with a screech of 'DIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEGO MUMMYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!' Needless to say, it appeared that Diego, the cousin of Dora the Explorer, was on stage and it was imperative that we get to the stage NOW.

I can't say my day would have been lacking if I didn't have to endure the 20 minutes of mindless babble from a man in a large costume. And 20 minutes was all the Toddler was prepared to witness because after this time she turned to me and said 'Enough now Mummy, we go somewhere else.' Apparently she was disappointed in the quality of the entertainment - it was pointed out to me that the animals weren't real.

Step it up Diego, next time the Iguanas and the birds need to be real, and trained to speak and act.



Fresh from the set of his latest James Bond movie, Frank Iguana is looking for a new career challenge...

So we abondoned Diego to complete his 'quest' alone, and were subsequently swallowed by an ocean of people who swept us up and dropped us neatly in front of a bouncy castle. Awesome.

We spent 15 minutes on the bouncy castle, until the Toddler's foot found a patch of castle that had been baking in the sun. Cue tears and a desperate attempt to launch herself off the castle to escape the lava pit she had just encountered.

Once feet were soothed, we moved on to the teacups. The GIANT teacups. Which the Toddler begged her Nanna to take her on. So both lined up, and all was fine with the cheery-emo teenager controlling his giant teacup ride with all the pride he could muster. I have a feeling it's a more satisfying job than making burgers at McDonald's or stacking shelves at Coles.

Because at night you could sneak back, plug in your teacups and ride them for as long as you liked.

Sneaking back to Maccas or Coles in the middle of the night to plug something in and ride it will most likely just get you arrested. And then fired.



Teacups - helping children spew since forever.


The Toddler happily waited the 5 or so minutes for her turn and finally got into a teacup with her Nanna. But sadly, the cheery-emo youth was replaced by the evil-emo youth who wore 3 watches and only let the kids ride for 3 minutes. Which was about how long it took him to get the ride up to speed.

It was somewhat anti-climatic and I could tell by the look on the Toddler's face.

I threw evil-emo the evil eye and hoped that his Carney instincts would make him realise he had just been cursed.



Except that I was less cat and more person...

And if he didn't notice the curse, then losing a testicle will just come as a pleasant surprise.

Anyway, we moved on to a motorbike ride, which the Toddler took on like Casey Stoner was her Dad. Which he's not. She loved that ride, and rode the mini bike like she owned it. She chose the red one too - because red goes faster.

It was a day full of Kodak Moments and times that I cursed the idiots who flogged our camera - so, hopefully, when their testicles fall off it will be a pleasant surprise for them, too.

Finally it was time to go home and recover. The Toddler was in bed at 7:30pm. I was in bed at 7:35pm.

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After the best nights sleep ever I woke up and decided that today was the day to text everyone I haven't talked to in a while.

This included my friend who had a baby 6 weeks ago, my friend who had a baby 4 weeks ago and my cousin who is due to give birth in 4 weeks.

As 2/3 of these people are in South Australia, it seemed more appropriate to visit the baby who lives in the same state. And her Mum, of course. Ahem.

So I got the address of their new place, loaded myself and the Toddler in the car and went and spent a small fortune at Target in a 'holy crap I still haven't got my friend's baby anything' shopping fit.

I think Target hates me. They always seem to be having a sale on cute clothing in the Toddler's size. Which would be fine had I not promised the Guru that my last spree at Pumpkin Patch would be the last foray into clothing land for a while.

A while, in his mind, being 6 or so months.

A while, in reality and when I'm unsupervised, was actually a matter of hours.

The shame. It burns.

Anyhoo, the Toddler and I had some lunch and then loaded in the car once more. I was super excited to be able to use the GPS in the car for the first time. Well, the first time where I didn't actually know where I was going. Getting directions home from work is slightly redundant when you've been travelling the same way for 3 years.

I was slightly disturbed when the GPS showed me my route on the map. It looked a little something like this:



In the middle of nowhere is where John Jarrett likes to choose his prey...

At that point I was grateful for a full tank, full stomachs and drink bottles. Worst case scenario, I've watched part of an episode of Man Vs Wild, and I think I could cope...probably...


So off we go....and go....and go. I get a call from the Guru voicing concern that we've been gone for several hours. I advise him that I'm currently driving roads I didn't even know existed in the NT, and that I'm not sure if we'll make it home alive.

The Toddler was asleep, and this gave me ample time to consider our situation;

A) Driving in an unfamiliar area
B) Potentially lost...the GPS likes to update me occasionally, reminding me to continue for another 20km's, but I'm on a straight road so it's not like I have options.
C) The tree's are starting to look eerily like they were filmed in Wolf Creek
D) I believe we may be the next victims of Wolf Creek
E) When John Jarrett jumps out of the next bush I must not stop to check that he's dead. Serial killers always fake death to trap you. I will not be fooled!!

After driving for enough time for Shrek 4 to play twice (almost) we made it.

No thanks to John Jarrett.

The next time we go visit, I'll be prepared.



I'd like you to meet our family bodyguard

The drive home was uneventful, but still un-nerving. John Jarrett had obviously hacked into the GPS as it kept telling me to continue into the desolate distance.
And today on my way to work, it kept telling me to do a u-turn and drive to my death.

Pressing buttons at random hasn't achieved anything thus far, so I'm thinking a trek into the users manual is a wise choice.

Wish me luck.

So, apparently, he has a point.

I can no longer deny it. The Guru was right. Much to my disgust, I might add.

As a result, I have devised the following guide.

7 Undeniable Signs Your Husband was Right when He said your Daughter has Too Many Clothes.

1. You do her laundry once a fortnight and she hasn't worn the same thing twice.

2. You do her laundry once a fortnight and her wardrobe still looks untouched:

Evidence Item 1A - HIM: "How can the washing line be full!?"

Evidence Item 1B - HIM: "You are no longer allowed near Target"

Evidence Item 1C - HIM: "What the hell!?" ME: "Yes, okay, so you might be right..."

Evidence Item 1D - HIM: "SERIOUSLY!!" ME: "Yes, okay, I GET IT!!"

3. You're grateful to only have to wash infrequently because you can't fit all her clothes into the space available anyway.

4. Day care have to keep returning clothing to you, because you drop it back thinking it belongs to someone else as you don't recognise it.

5. You have Platinum-VIP-Superstar Status anywhere that sells children's clothing.

6. When you've forgotten your PIN, you know you can always drop in and see the girls at Pumpkin Patch. They know it by heart.

7. Your husband seems to be Google-ing topics like 'shopping addict' and is having secret squirrel discussions with your Mum using terms such as 'intervention'.

So there you have it. I'm out of control.

Strangely, I don't feel one bit contrite.

Layby Fail.

I love layby. I love the end of financial year toy sales and the boxing day sales and all those other sales that seem to come every week or so.

But mostly, I love layby. It means I can pretend I am so totally organised for Christmas and birthdays months in advance.

We picked up the Xmas layby over the weekend and yesterday my Mum and I spent a day wrapping. It was wonderful, opening boxes and gazing at the myriad of toys and other items chosen carefully from the laminated booklet at the K-Mart layby counter.

By the way - K-Mart - I LOVE that process. Do you know how HAPPY I was to know that I didn't have to fist fight other parents for the things I wanted because it was the last on the shelf? It saved a lot of time and bail money. Thanks.

Moving on - the joy of opening boxes soon turned to confusion as I encountered items I didn't remember. Who the hell did I buy the Animal Train for? It's ages 6mth+...the Toddler is almost 24mths and so are all her friends.

Never mind - I can save it for May when my friend's second baby is due.

But wait...why did I get 2 of these? And why...what...huh??

This is when I start to curse my inability to write things down - or even keep track of reciepts. I've wrapped everything I can remember who and why it was purchased - but I have a box of stuff that I've labeled 'What the...?' and it will have to be assessed in the New Year.

I don't have the brain capacity to zip up my pants at the momemt, let alone try and work out who and why these 'extra' items are in my house.

Worst case scenario, they get recycled for next Christmas.

The Guru was not surprised at this. He's never surprised when I turn up with more of the same. I am the person who goes food shopping and brings home 2 large cans of corn because I am convinced we have none.

They then get added to the 15 cans at the back of the pantry. I have the same strange problem with tuna. But we are constantly running out of bread, milk and cat food.

Hey, if we have a cyclone, at least I can build a bunker out of corn cans and feed ourselves and the cats with tuna.

10 Things I've Learnt as a Result of Online Shopping

I'm having a slight panic attack about some items I've purchased that haven't arrived yet - and they are intended for Xmas, so for them to not be here yet is making me hyperventilate slightly. It's the control freak in me that's convinced I've been fleeced and I'll never get the gear. Basically, I didn't post it, so it didn't happen.

Yeah - online shopping is more stressful than regular Xmas-psycho shopping for me.

As a result, I have decided to list the following lessons as a result of my situation.

1. Online Shopping is awesome, convenient and easy - but if you happen to miss out on something at least in a shopping centre you can throw the person, who got the last pair of ballet flats in your size, a filthy look and decide to run them down in the carpark in an act of revenge.

2. Ordering things from the US or Canada when the Aussie dollar is doing well is a great idea - but forgetting that you live in a town where all mail is delivered by carrier pigeon (for more info read here) makes the distance your package needs to travel a fearful thing to consider.

3. Checking a combination of my Etsy inbox, Canada Post Parcel Tracking and my email 500 times per day does not make it more likely that my order has been processed and the delivery card being dropped into my letterbox as we speak.

4. Canada Post Parcel Tracking needs to learn to track items in order to have it's name apply.

5. Online Shopping makes checking your letterbox exciting every day because you might have that sacred parcel delivery card - it also makes it bitterly shite when your parcel card isn't there.

6. Optus, ANZ, Westpac, Power&Water, Council Rates and anyone else wanting money for services rendered or sending me more paper reminding me how much money we DON'T have in our bank accounts can bugger off. You are taking up valuable space in my letterbox that should actually be overflowing with parcel delivery cards. Please resume paper based communication once Christmas is over.

7. I now have an obsession with parcel delivery cards.

8. Driving past the post office repeatedly on the off chance that a postal worker will know who I am and flag me down to announce they just got a plethora of parcels for me, and to come in and get them is highly unlikely.

9. The parcel delivery people (or 'Contractors') that are hired by the Carrier Pigeon Postal Service (also known as Australia Post Darwin) are just plain crap. Apparently, no, they do not knock on your door to let you know they are there. Your options are:

• That they will park on the opposite side of the street from your home and sit on their horn until you come out of your house to see what the hell your neighbour is doing to their car. They then proceed to walk halfway across the street, throw your parcel at you and run away...OR
• That they will actually park in your driveway and sit there in silence until you happen to look out the front window and see someone with an Australia Post magnet and P Plates on their car burn rubber out of your driveway having left a 'You weren't home, so come and see us after 4pm with the other 150 people we've avoided today.  P.S: eat my dust.' card in your letterbox. You attempt to chase them, even though you're only wearing a singlet and your scungy undies because you've been doing housework. Once you give up on the chase you try your best to make it back home without the neighbours seeing you and reporting you to the police.

10. I don't like running the streets in my scungy undies and singlet - so I'm just going to let them leave me a parcel delivery card and pick it up after 4pm like everyone else.

So tell me, what has online shopping taught you?

Friday Fluff & a bit of a ramble

So I did actually write this on Friday - but apprently I forgot to press the publish button...
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Well - T.G.I.F everyone! I thought it would never get here - or at least, but the time it did, I'd be dead.

Yeah, that's rather dramatic but that's been my week so I'm rollin' with it.

And so - to the Friday Fluff!!

Ah, my little Picasso.

The Toddler and the Guru spent a weekend making a giant, custom toybox for the lounge room. The Toddler loved being able to paint it all by herself. I know she's proud because whenever someone comes over the first thing she does is drag them to the toybox and screech "I paint toybox! My hands! Daddy help too!"

Good to know his input wasn't totally overlooked. But I think if the Coles delivery man has to smile and pretend to be excited over the toybox again, well, our groceries may just be flung into the driveway as the truck races past.

But I do love the toybox and because it's custom it's just the right height and size for everything.

The smaller box down the end was a 'Guru Trademark' and is for all her building blocks. As a result they stay separate from all her other toys, but they're not stored in boxes or bags that are too heavy for her to lift out of the toybox.

When he explained it to me, it was another reminder of why he's such an amazing Dad and Husband.

And so - I will be doing what every good 'other half' will be doing over the lead up to Xmas.

No...nothing THAT dirty - honestly, it was a toybox people - not even a 1ct Solitaire on my hand would get me going THERE.

What I meant was that I will be entering the Great Realm of Man-Stuff... and purchasing power tools.

Specifically an edge trimmer/whipper snipper thingy and something that will blow and suck...LEAVES!

Honestly, you're all filthy.  Moving on...

But I have no idea what I'm doing. An aisle at Bunnings can have me so overwhelmed with choice that I need a therapy session to choose between a matte or satin finish paint.

Brands mean nothing to me because as far as I know they're all made in China by the same people - they just rotate the branding stickers.

(and speaking of things made in China - did you know Margarine is 1 chemical away from plastic? Yep - think about that the next time you're lathering up your crumpet!)

So where to start?? Who to ask? WHAT DO I DO?

And don't say ask the Bunnings people. The last time we were there and I asked where I could find the ladies toilet, they took me around to the display bathroom.

A lovely gesture - but I don't do spectator sports.

Maybe if I start out slow, flick through some junk mail catalogues, get some ideas, then I'll feel brave enough to tackle the idea of actually making a purchase - and possibly encourtering another Bunnings employee.

And I'll keep the receipts, so when it's wrong I can exchange it for what he actually asked for.

The Annual Hyperventilation

Shopping is usually a joy - for me anyway. Not so much the Guru. He usually spends time lamenting the worn, sick looking state of our cards. Wearing the scratches from EFTPOS machines like badges of honour.

Personally, I think he should be grateful. If it weren't for me he would be fending off bats and moths in droves as they attempted to make his wallet their home.

Because bats and moths luuuurve dark places that are rarely disturbed.




Image found here

 
But this time of year has a tendancy to strike fear into my heart. I love shopping, I really do - but Christmas shopping is something that usually has me breathing into a brown paper bag, waving off paramedics in the middle of a shopping centre.

It starts about...well, now! It's November and this weekend I found myself stopping at random to break into a cold swseat at the thought of who we had to buy for and how long I had to get my shit together.

Because I never have long enough. There's never enough time. WHY DO I NOT GET REGULAR REMINDERS FROM SANTA ABOUT THE IMPENDING DOOM OF CHRISTMAS!?

We have a few additional people to shop for that live interstate this year and so I am shitting bricks about the ability of Australia Post to get parcels where they need to be in time. For some reason Darwin doesn't use planes. Even in this day and age Australia Post NT choose to use the timeless art of Carrier Pigeon.

This technique is wonderful, and I relish the thought of many medium, flightful birds carrying parcels everywhere - like Harry Potter, but in this case he's fallen on hard times and the Owl had to be traded for a rat of the sky.

But when it comes to relief for my panic attacks of Christmas, knowing the pigeon situation only makes it worse. Because I get the pigeons who are lost and confused...every year!!


Image found here

 So by all rights I should have shopped and shipped in January.  Dear Hindsight. Bite me. K, Thanks, Bye.

The next problem I encounter is simply making choices. I am the type of person who can't make a choice for herself. And it drives the Guru mad.

If we have take out night and there's a choice to be made, he knows to come to me, lounge cushion in hand and ask for my decision. But he knows I won't make the decision - the cushion will. Pattern side up is option 1, plain side up is option 2.

And before you say anything - why flip a coin when I have a great time flapping cushions around? Even the Toddler joins in now.

So standing in a store trying to choose A from B for someone, without the aid of an all-seeing, flipping cushion is painful. I just can't do it. I put it down to my internal fear that everything I do is wrong and I'll ruin someone's Christmas by getting them the wrong thing. Damn my brain!

So now, while I'm contemplating a lost and confused Carrier Pigeon carrying a Cabbage Patch Doll or a 'My First Kitchen' set to the other side of the country, the next issue comes in to blindside me.

Is it enough?

When do you know that what you've got for someone is enough? You never want to be cheap, but you don't want to have to sell your home just to get someone a gift.

We have a rule of we buy for children only, and I think that's fair. If the Guru and I choose to get eachother something, then that's wonderful - but it's really all about the kids.

But there is so much STUFF! And with my inability to choose between things it can lead to someone potentially getting a shop's worth of gear (hence why I'm never allowed to do this kind of thing alone!). I'm always so worried that we'll look cheap and crap if we don't get everyone the top of the line of everything, but I'm also keenly aware that our bank balance doesn't reach to those dizzying heights.

Oh to be due an inheritance from a long, lost relative...

But since that's not going to happen, I have to face my issues head on.

So how do you do it? How do you decide what is an appropriate amount to spend? And I am so not the type of person to be organised enough to think ahead, so I do need plans that I can use while flying by the seat of my pants.

I laugh in the face of a $20 challenge...

Ah, now here's a challenge that I can get into. Shopping and I are the best of friends, and together we can always find more and more ways to spend money. It's what great friendships are made of.

So, K Mart have thrown this challenge at us, and I can totally put this one in the bag.

Browsing the catalogue I'm discovering ways to spend $20 in a thrifty and yet sensible manner...

However, that all gets blown out of the water when I spot this:

Oh yeah - it's a Tinkerbell Activity Set. And since our beautiful girl went as Tinkerbell to her friends Birthday Party she has been Tinkerbell-crazy!

Evidence - Exhibit A:

Her wings are missing...but they looked like this...

So with my Tinkerbell purchase under my belt, I continue shopping and find these would be a great idea for Christmas:

Would be great to send one to each set of Grandparents for the festive season!

And to reward myself for being a great shopper I'd grab one of these:

It would totally have to be a Picnic bar because I have a disturbing addiction to their peanut-y, caramel-y, gooey, wafer-y, chocolate-y goodness.

Yeah, warned you it was disturbing.

So there you have it - $20 spent in K-Mart and everyone is happy with the result. YAY!!

Hi, my name is kel, and I am a shop-a-holic.

I knew it was going to happen...it had to, it was all too good.

Know that awesome feeling when you're confident about the amount in your bank account and haven't bothered to keep track of what you've spent?

Know that gut dropping feeling when you realise you might have gone overboard?

Know that gut dropping feeling when you suddenly realise there's not as much in there as you'd hoped?

Know that gut dropping feeling when you start to think that there won't be enough to cover expenses?

Know that feeling when you can't take back the stuff you've bought?

Yeah - that's where I am. And yeah, I could kick myself.

Budgeting has never been my 'thang' and I don't think it ever will be. Days like today make me go home in 'Terminator-Budget-Maker-Hard-Arse-Money-Freak' mode, but it only lasts a couple of weeks, and then when things are rosy again I just forget everything.

And then I wind up back here.

Because for some reason my brain doesn't connect the whole 'being budget aware' and the resulting good fortune to have money to pay bills.

Damn my shopping-addiction.

I use the excuse that as long as the Guru smokes, then I can splurge every now and then. And usually when I go into Terminator mode I make him swear he'll give up and stop smoking all our money. Because, you know, it's all him - it's got nothing to do with the tonnes and tonnes of bags I bring home from the shopping centre.

Nope. Not me. All him.

I tell him that for every cigarette he lights, I'm going to flush $5 down the loo. Yeah, well, if I hadn't spent that $5 at the shopping centre then I could. But I don't. And I wouldn't. Even if I could - because that's $5 and I have shopping to be done. And who has cash these days - it's all plastic!

And the sad thing is, it's not like I'm strutting around hanging out at Cue and Portmans and stuff (yeah, no flashy labels here in Darwin) - I'm usually doing food shops....for food we already have...or popping into the kids shops to get the Toddler more crap she doesn't need.

Or replacing something that looks like it's going to fail soon. Like, for example, yesterday I replaced our baby monitor. Because the one we had wasn't charging the parent handset properly, and as a result the reception between the Toddler's room and ours was kinda crappy.

It could have been fine. But instead, I decide it's totally dead and needs to be replaced. Right now. This second.

And so it is.

I actually don't like to think about the amount I spend...or the forhead vein-bulging thoughts the Guru must think on his way home, road rage being his outlet...

And I need to stop. I need to just be content and not feel this need for anything and everything to be perfect. If something of the toddler's gets a stain - yeah, I don't soak it. I just go out and buy a new one. Even if she's only worn it once.

And now I've said that out loud - I realise how truly STUPID I am. And also that you must all think I'm some kind of Diva. But I'm not, honestly...I just have some really strange, stupid expectations of myself. And that's if something isn't perfect, then get something that is because otherwise you're proving everyone right when they say you're a failure and useless and hopeless.

Yeah - I have some demons. But I'm working on them.

God help me with cloth nappies when they arrive.  I think that's why the Guru looked like he was about to cry when I ordered them and he saw the cost. I think he's afraid I'll be replacing them every week. And his fear is completely founded - I've given him plenty of examples in the past, present and now he can just see the future.

But I won't - I promise. Those nappies are my new leaf turning over.

I will soak stains, accept devices that need a little push to charge properly, stop trying to fill voids with 'things' and try to work out what's really missing and fix it.

I will stop trying to do 10 years of home improvements in 2 weeks (although the new letter box, paint, blinds, door handles, furniture placement and everything else look FAB!) and stop boosting the income of Bunnings. And Coles. And Woolworths. And Target, KMart and Big W. And Little Rompers (although I really do want, would love, and am dying for a new Strider pram - I really love, love, LOVE the Strider Plus. I went to drool look at it again today...and it's coming out in new colours. I almost fainted when the girl showed me the new catalogue...). And Chemists (they all have cute soft toys - for a small fortune). And Just Jeans. And Pumpkin Patch.

But basically I just need to STOP.

And I will....I really will...

This will be the last confession from me as a shop-a-holic.

Rockin' Nails and Finding Awesome Stuff

I painted my nails today. Well, I painted them again. I bought a really sexy red colour from the MAC counter in David Jones while I was in Adelaide - I painted my nails as soon as I got back, and the day after I smashed the entire bottle of red all over our white tiles. I then proceeded to spend the rest of the day scrubbing the floor with acetone and bleach to return the pearly white colour to the tiles, but a side effect was that my nails were ruined.

I tolerated it for a week, and finally on Saturday found a deeper, more grape red colour with metallic tones that looks so hot, it's not funny. So I've cleaned off the MAC Red and applied the Revlon Grape/Maroon. Nice.

I was motivated to do a bit of a clean out on Saturday afternoon too - and as a result I found a $100 Betts voucher from Xmas that I haven't used (the Guru knows me too well!), a voucher for a manicure I got from a friend of mine for my birthday, and lastly a voucher I got from work for the local day spa for a pamper.

Cleaning has developed pay offs this week that I didn't know were available! If only every week was this exciting. But I know next Saturday my big finds will simply consist of toy parts. Really not the same thing - a manicure just blows that out of the water.

I've asked the Guru if random vouchers could become a weekly bonus, and that I'd be happy to use the housework as a form of scavenger hunt to find the loot. Apparently we aren't Victoria and David Beckham, so it won't be happening. I said it wouldn't happen then anyway because Victoria honestly wouldn't do her own housework. She has servants. The Guru still said no. Sigh.

I can dream...a lot...