>I’m not even joking.
It seems when he comes shopping with me, both our self control centres go out the window. Maybe they are too busy trying to decide what ice cream they are going to buy to actually do their job.
we spent $80 on crappy food. Well, It wasn’t ALL crappy. There was $20 worth of chicken, because he had to have chicken for lunch. We got milk too, because to do actually really need that. And there was cream cheese, because he had to have cream cheese on the sandwich too. And Soft drink, because we don’t have any and we need it. Yeah, just like my pregnant bum needs those 3 packets of tim tams we bought because they were on special and the tub of icecream purchased for the same reason.
(I did get a $2 block of apricot and almond cheese and a box of crackers that I am totally NOT regretting at all.$3.35 well spent).
It makes me cranky as soon as we get home, because he likes to stress – particularly about money. Rarely a day goes by where he doesn’t make a comment about needing to save or pay off debts or somethign else along those dreary lines.
But I am convinced that if he just avoided the supermarket, we could probably put a deposit on a house with the savings we would make! (This is a slight over exhaggeration. He’d need to quit smoking too).
Of course, I’m a big girl, so I can’t just dump all the blame on him. Part of me says “you should tell him no!” but the other part says “He’s a big boy, he doesn’t need another mother, let him live with the choices.” I need to be stronger when we go to the shops together and not give in to my wants just because he’s not listening to his self control – I bought the tim tams. Makes me want to kick my own pregnant bum. But then my brain tells me to just calm down and have another tim tam, getting worked up isn’t good for my blood pressure. So I do.
Speaking of pregnant – here is the latest photo froma progession shoot I’m doing with Captured With Love Photography (check them out, gorgeous stuff!). Cab you believe that’s my 30 week belly? See the something sticking out from under my ribs? Weird, huh. Whats even weirder is that I’ve only got about 8 weeks left. I’m convinced I won’t go to 40 weeks. At 37 +5 with Dex I was 4cm dialated. Either way, even if I do go to full term, 2 months and I’ll have my baby girl in my arms.
She’ll most likely be nameless, because let’s be honest, you remember a slutty girl’s name heaps before you remember a douchebag boys name, so Sophie who was holding hands with boys in year one totally turns you of that name, while Patrick who once hit you with his hat and made you bruise doesn’t stick in your memory as strongly. (no, the Patrick I’m referring to wasn’t the Patrick I’m now currently having babies with).
Any way – The point of this blog was to show everyone that I’m definitely not perfect. There are times when I drop the ball. When it’s easier to not care about budgets. But the important thing is, I don’t like doing it. It doesn’t feel good. I imagine it’s like trying to lose weight. You can have a splurge day, but instead fo making you feel good, it just makes you feel worse and you vow to try harder next time. And that’s what I’ll do.
So we all learn something.