We came, we shopped, we conquered!

This is a “Compensated (C1) Post”

for full details see my disclosure statement.

I’m quite partial to four letter words, my favourite of which is SALE. I’m sorry, were you expecting profanities? When in the John Hurt Way, throw another four letter word in the mix and you’ll have me frothing at the mouth. BABY SALE. Sadly, not a place where you can just pick up a bargain baby Angelina Jolie style, but where you can grab some specials and, in my case, show your second born that they are worthy enough to have at least one or two new things.

Now it’s not unusual for a company to offer vouchers to spend at a sale, but what is unusual is when they ask you to invite along some friends so that you can all become ooh-la-la-ladies who lunch and then give you all vouchers so you can shop til you drop! Which is exactly what Big W offered us… it was a tough assignment, but somebody had to do it and I’m quite obviously not above buying the affections of my friends.

We could have gone out to a fancy restaurant for lunch but the idea of four adults (one of which *coughmecough* is constantly vomiting) and seven children aged two and under going to a restaurant put the fear of the Google Gods in to me. Instead we had an awesome catered lunch at home where the kids could run riot (under the watchful eyes of my parents and Aunty Penny) and the mamas could whip out the iPads and start our bargain hunting using the Big W app. Plus it meant we could have chips without other people going “you came to a restaurant and you ordered CHIPS?!”.

Chips go really well with research

Our shopping exhibition was broken up in to manageable chunks thanks to the afore mentioned seven children and queasy woman, too. So we didn’t really stick to the plan (you try sticking to a plan with four toddlers and three babies), but we did all go out to our local store in the next few days and nab our goodies from the overflowing shelves. That stuck out to all of us more than anything, that there was actually stock! I’m so tired of giant fortnight long sales where a store seems to have only three items left on day one. There was stock galore that was, shock horror, actually being refilled as items were taken. Praise grilled cheesus, someone gets it!!

We make some totally cute kids

Being ever practical, Louise grabbed nappies, formula, wipes and a portacot; Trish snapped up a new pram, nappies and a toilet step; Kath grabbed some clothes, nappies, wipes and sippy cups; and I got my hands on a toilet step, some jumpsuits and toys for 2.0, a Belly Belt for me - which I'm totally claiming is actually for 2.0 now and therefore still counts as "for baby" - and Tricky’s entire winter wardrobe. When you’re not buying nappies it means a hell of a lot more cute clothes – The Trickster is gonna be lookin’ super funky. Between us we had enough goodies to melt our plastic gift cards, lemme tell you!

In store shenanigans

The only real complaint about the experience was from Trish… who needed two trolleys and an extra pair of hands to grab everything. It’s a bit of a first world problem, so I think we’ll let that one slide.

We had a great meal, no children were lost or injured (though Tricky did bolt out the front door at one stage – of course it was my child, of COURSE!), no one threw up in public, we got our hands on some fabulous bargains and my friends now think the life of a Blogger is very glam (she types at 1:00am).

If you want to get your hands on some discounted goodies, head to the Big W Baby and Toddler event which runs from January 31 – February 13.

Do you want some moolah to the tune of $100 to spend while you’re there? There are two ways to enter, by filling out the entry form below and/or head over to the 'book.

Alternatively head on over to www.bigw.com.au and use the promo code BABY10 to receive a $10 eVoucher for your online purchases (valid to 31st of March 2013, no minimum spend, but doesn't count towards postage).

EDIT 11th Feb 1:00pm AWST:  The eVoucher has been suspended due to improper use by a third party website. Big W extends it apologies to you all and thanks you for your understanding.

Berlioz and Boobs

What better way to celebrate my 100th post than by getting my gear off in public.

I didn't buy many pregnancy specific clothes. I got one pair of pants and a few t-shirts second hand (with tags still on because the chick I bought them from had a premmie baby and didn't get the chance to wear them) but when I needed some other bits and pieces I just bought normal clothes a size or two larger - because when you put a maternity tag on something the price doubles, and I'm too stingy frugal to pay extra for something I'm only going to get a few months wear out of. I don't see the point in it all. But breastfeeding friendly clothes? I definitely see the point in them.
 
I have a few specific breastfeeding tops that are purpose made to allow easy feeding without hiking up your top - perfect for when you don't want the entire world to see your flabby, stretch marked belly. But I also just have a few tops that are button up and they do the job just as well. Add to this a nursing bra (which, due to their peep show panels, I like to call my stripper bras) and I'm all set to feed Tricky whenever, wherever. I've even got the whole breastfeeding in public thing down to a fine art - I do use a thin blanket to cover myself up when I'm putting him on and taking him off, not because I think I have to, or I think it's indecent exposure, but just because I'd prefer that not every man and his dog see my nips - which immediately after a feed look like they've come straight from page three of a National Geographic magazine.

So the other evening I was lucky enough to be taken to the symphony by Aunty Penny. I dolled myself up and decided that since Tricky was staying home with Hubby and a few bottles of expressed milk that I wouldn't need to wear any of my feeding tops - I could actually put on something that didn't scream 'lactating mother'. I put on one of my favourite dresses, a multicoloured, silk maxi dress. I dressed it up with some killer heels and a bit of bling. It was pretty exciting (sad, I know).

When I got to the Concert Hall I did what all good mothers do when they have a night off... I went straight to the bar. I nearly fell over and it had nothing to do with the heels I was wearing, rather the $9.50 pricetag on my glass of chardonnay. I figured, hey, how often do I get a chance to get dressed up and go the symphony? So I splurged. $9.50 on a glass of vinegar. Great. But I wasn't going to let it get to me. I was at the Concert Hall seeing the West Australian Symphony Orchestra, baby! And they were about to perform Symphonie Fantastique by Berlioz! *Insert excited geeky muso squeals here* See, I'm a big music lover - I studied it for years and have even performed right there on the very stage we were looking at. I was having flashbacks (possibly caused by the foul wine) and it was brilliant.

At intermission, Aunty Penny and I were having a chat and laughing at all the random stupid things we normally laugh at when for some reason - possibly because there were lots of posh looking people - I said "Wouldn't it be funny if there was a streaker?" Being obsessed with social media I even tweeted it! Who would have thought those words would foreshadow the rest of the night's events?

Tweeting at the symphony - I'm all class

When it finished Aunty Penny and I made our way down to where Hubby was picking us up and I didn't even have to open the car door to hear it... Tricky was crying. My poor bubba had been yanked out of bed in the middle of the night (see, you don't like it much do ya, Tricks? So stop doing it to your mother!) and to top it off he had a fever. It had only been a couple of hours since he'd had paracetamol so I couldn't give him any more, so the sure fire way to comfort him when he is upset like that is to feed him so Hubby turned off the engine, Aunty Penny jumped in the passenger seat while I climbed in to the back to feed Tricky. But there was a slight problem. The super-fabulous-non-breast-accessible-dress. Crap. I couldn't pull down the top half of the dress (it was a racer back and wouldn't come down) so I had no choice... I would have to take it off.

Now normally, stripping off in the back seat is done for an entirely different reason and therefore the car is usually in a secluded spot (if it's not then you're probably an exhibitionist). But we were parked at the steps to the Concert Hall whilst three hundred of our fellow concert-goers walked past to get to their own cars. I couldn't get out of the car to take my dress off, there were too many people - so after a crack from Aunty Penny about this not being the first time to take my clothes off in the back seat of a car, I stripped. If any of the people walking by looked in they would have seen me, sitting on the back seat, wearing my stripper bra and undies with my dress laid over my lap and my child at my breast.

What a night - symphony AND a peep show.

Bump Envy

There is something strange going on around here. And I'm not referring to the hot one day, raining the next weather. What I am talking about is my disappearing reappearing bump. Here one minute, gone the next.

I was so excited to be getting a bump because as I've mentioned previously I've been looking like I just piled on a few kilos and when affectionately rubbing my own belly I'd look like I was deciding on what to devour next for lunch. Other than not looking like I was about to pounce on whichever small animal may walk past next, getting bigger has meant all the pregnancy perks have started coming in – people actually stood up and offered their seats to me on the train, opened doors and gave me right of way in narrow spaces immediately bringing to an end the dreaded 'dance of the hallway'.

But then... gone. At first glance you would be excused for thinking Tricky had migrated from my belly to my butt, judging by its increasing girth, and I'm still not entirely convinced this isn't true. I go from looking like a proper preggo one day and then the next I look like one of those girls who buy their pants in the size they want to be, rather than the size they actually are. I actually have one of those T-shirts that says “Hands off the bump” and am tempted to wear it daily as a form of insurance against looking like a blob.

Where is Tricky going? He is fast running out of room and I'm not one of those tall willowy types that are so long in the torso they look flat as a pancake right up until they pop. Or is that his normal position meaning that when I look nice and round he is actually just sticking out his tiny little butt? Taking after his father already, no doubt.

I'd heard that subsequent pregnancies 'show' a lot sooner than first timers due to the abdominal muscles being stretched and relaxed already – and a friend one week ahead of me is already, in her own words, the size of a house. I wouldn't have gone that far – more like a small cottage or granny flat. But whether or not she looks like a housing establishment, the point is she looks lovely and I'm a little bit jealous. Admittedly I have even stuck out my belly further, just to look how I think I should look, in the same way I used to suck it in if I was going to a club.

Friends laugh at me for sticking it out and those with children already assure me that in a few weeks, when the waddle starts to kick in, I'll be wishing that I wasn't so big. But until then I reserve the right to continue to stick out my belly and ignore the fact that it makes my bum look even bigger due to the massively concave back.