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This post may be written out of boredom and the fact that the children have finally sent me round the bend. Feel free to ignore.

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I am quite excited.

In the UK we regularly (read almost always) did our shopping online and had it delivered. Now, I don’t mind supermarket shopping, generally. I think I am quite lucky in that regard (or maybe it is Beefcake that is lucky) because I get quite a decent shopping high from doing the grocery shop. Not the equivalent to going and buying myself something expensive and shiny and pretty but large. I think it stems from my maternal drive to feed and care for my family. Once I have shopped I know that our house is filled with things I can use to nourish and nurture my brood all for a low, low budget price. In my mind I am a housewife superstar.

Where was I? Oh yes, excited.

I quite like shopping but I am excited because Coles now do online shopping in Adelaide. Quite apart from the fact that I can shop in my pj’s and rest my pelvis* I still find that I achieve almost** the same little high from filling my imaginary online trolley as I do from trawling the aisles in search of a bargain. I shopped tonight. I sat on my couch, recovering from an incident in which Pudding and Grub both jumped on me while I was on the floor and made me cry with the pelvis ouchie, and I did the biggest shop you can imagine. It’s been a lean month due to moving and putting in a new kitchen and it is payday tomorrow.

On a completely different note. Every night this week, Beefcake has had a meeting from 5:30pm until 8:30 and then from 11:30pm until 1.30am. It has sucked the arse. In a large, large way. Each night the small children have become more and more agitated as I try to prepare dinner and get them off to bed without the large beardy one. They are most put out by the change in routine. So much so that even Rhubarb has expressed distress at the craziness that takes place between 5:30 and 8pm, stating that he doesn’t think he can take much more of it. Poor baby, his life is so hard. I am please because tonight was the last night of the crazy. Back to a normal working day tomorrow and then Beefcake is on leave for two whole weeks. Yay! He has promised me much DIYing and fantasticness during his holiday.

Speaking of which, we found a fabbo acrylic surface that is all space age and stuff to use in place of tiles for the splashback today. Looks like glass but is not. We are seriously considering it but it will cost a bit more. Given how excited we were when we went to look today it is miraculous that we didn’t order it on the spot. We have shown great restraint.

I am rambling now. There is not a coherent point running through this post. Oops, the baby*** has woken up.

Bye.

*A regular shopping trip is a bizarre and torturous race for us. I must walk relatively slowly so I don’t hurt the pelvis but we must hurry because walking around like that makes the pelvis sore and we have, at most, an hour before I begin to start limping (and whining).

** I may have saved “a few” things that were too “hard” to get online to buy in the real supermarket on the weekend. Yes, I am sad, why do you ask?

*** When does she cease to be a baby? I personally think that now that she is one she is a toddler but part of my brain is obviously unwilling to admit that.

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7 responses

  1. Personally I think a one year old is still a baby. Two is toddler age. Not that I have much experience of small children so feel free to ignore me.

    bevchen’s last blog post… Welcome to the inside of my brain

  2. I reckon Inigo will be a baby until he can play Scrabble. We all have different standards ;)

    Lara’s last blog post… Squishy

  3. I did online shopping when my youngest was new, it was a lifesaver. Only thing was they quite regularly didn’t have particular stuff I wanted and I couldn’t trust their substitutions.

    Stomper Girl’s last blog post… School Reports

  4. I am trying to get back to market shopping but can’t make the time. Instead we have most of our fruit, veg, bread and milk delivered weekly. The fresh produce is random so I never know what will be waiting for me. It makes meal planning a little awkward but it saves the trip to the shops or market.

    As for toddlers, in your case Grub seems to have been toddling forever but she is still as tiny as a baby so I figure the descriptors are interchangeable.

    del’s last blog post… The Wagon

  5. I still consider my 20 month old a baby so I think its as long as you say it is.

    Suzie’s last blog post… A Letter To My Bod

  6. Gentle hugs for you. My pelvis is better now I’m not pregnant, but we just won’t talk about my stupid effed up hips. Arses. I wish Coles did online shopping down here.

    Veronica’s last blog post… You know how…

  7. ‘When does she cease to be a baby?’

    Never…ever… Although I may be pandering to my own emotional needs with that view…

    tinsenpup’s last blog post… Grace In Small Things: 10 of 365

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