Admitting it is the first step on the long journey to hell down the road paved with good intentions.

My name is Karen and I am powerless over plastic.
Hi Karen.

This is Minnesota, Land of 10,000 Support Groups. I'd probably fit into a few different ones, actually: Codependent, Emotional Eating, Compulsive Shopping, etc.

Did you hear about the codependent who had a near-death experience?
Her husband's life flashed before her very eyes....

Although I've always been inclined toward twisted humor, my chosen profession hasn't helped. And having children has further eroded that filter between what I think and what I actually blurt out. It ain't pretty.

But I digress...

Yesterday I had planned to take a friend to the Salvation Army and -get this - just not buy anything. Bob and I had yet another discussion about the proliferation of toys - regardless of new/used - is still consumption. And that for as much as I've been getting rid of our belongings, other things were inexorably creeping in to take their place. The accidental emphasis on acquiring things doesn't really mesh with what we'd hoped to teach our children. All true, valid points, I must admit.

X and I needed to clear out of the house for a while, as Nady our cleaning lady was at work. We did a couple of errands, attended a playgroup, generally killing time. I got a phone call from my friend saying she wasn't up to an outing. Faced with a change in plans, I go to default settings i.e. shopping. In my defense, the purpose was to find X some shoes - he is growing out of his sneakers, leaving him with only moon boots or sandals as options. Not quite enough for the hateful weather of March.

We went to Goodwill and struck out. Nothing in his size. Didn't look for anything else. Managed to escape the toy aisle and video shelf unscathed.

I wasn't up to dealing with Savers, which is probably a cop-out. So off to the Salvation Army. First we checked upstairs which has a good used shoe section, but no luck. Downstairs had a bunch of cool shoes, including a pair of Chuck Taylor's with skulls, a full size too big but hey, for $4 I decided I would get them anyway. At first glance the toy shelves seemed to have the same zillion copies of High School Musical Trivia (redundant much?) , and a few other things that weren't too tempting. I was fondling the decorator pillows and lovely quilts, and telling myself a zillion reasons why we didn't need them, when Xavier lets out a screech of triumph. Some dusty back of the bin discovery - a Playmobil firefighting helicopter. That actually squirts water. For $2.

Don't judge me too harshly. It might have been possible to walk away, but my hope in doing so was shot when there were more sets - a fire engine, extra firefighters with all the safety gear, yet another helicopter, and a pirate ship. I may have blacked out. I filled my shopping cart.

It's another attack of Miniature Mania, although this is worse because I never even had access to all the boy-oriented toys. 3 inch tall pirates, with teeny swords? Playmobil rocks. It just does. And at 75% off? Please.

Then I found more Fiskar scissors for the preschool ($1) so we can get rid of the pairs we started with in 1958. And an awesome Schwinn bicycle helmet, in my daughter's size and colors, for $4 - nicer than the one I looked at last year for $20.

Total damage? $42 Guilt: priceless.

We did a ding-dong ditch of 3 of the Playmobil sets at a friend's house. Much better than a flaming bag of dog poo, I reckon. I let X have the helicopter and L her helmet. The pirate ship still founders in the trunk, listing to port. I haven't decided, and more importantly, X hasn't remembered.

Lest I put this all in the category of a small indiscretion, let's review the facts as presented. Even if it's from a thrift store, it's still stuff. Even worse, new stuff. Even at 75% off, I could have saved 100% by walking away. Buying it and giving it away is still buying, consuming, getting a fix, giving in to the high of the bargain hunt. And none of today's purchases met the necessity test.

Let's examine the fact I haven't yet presented but which weighs heavily on all of this.

Our cleaning lady, Natividad Hernandez, tearfully told me yesterday that she is returning (again) to Guatemala to take care of her ailing mother, and she's not sure for how long. Between her own health problems and taking many weeks off for visits, she's missed a lot of work and apparently quit her second job fairly recently. (My Spanish is minimal, as is her English, but we get by. Or at least I thought I understood.) Once she returns from helping her mother die, she'll be going straight to Chicago. To stay with her boyfriend, her stuff is en route already. All because her house got foreclosed and she was literally kicked to the curb this weekend. So I'm filling my house with crap while the woman who cleans it loses her own.

I feel like shit. As is only befitting. And I won't be going shopping for a while.

Aunt Rita and other shopping legends...

I've believed for some time now that I am incapable of passing up a bargain. It's an impulse disorder, not otherwise specified. I'm sure it will make the next DSM and be the "it" diagnosis, at least for a while.

Nature? Nurture? Yes.

In my family history, we have the beloved Aunt Rita, who does not go a day without shopping of some sort. She has befriended all the vendors at the swap meet/ farmer's market, and any bargains she picks up usually have a name and lifestory attached, free of charge. Aunt Rita is hugely generous but also loves a bargain, so what usually happens is she finds a really good deal, then figures out who to give it to. The thrill is in the (bargain) hunt.

Aunt Rita is a very accomplished shopper, too. No shop too big or too small. She has done Hong Kong without hyperventilating. If Canada had a Filene's, she would be elbowing her way through the most hardy shoppers. I remember one of her visits to our home fell around my birthday and my mother's - we're 4 days apart. I was granted the special privilege to go to the Boulevard Mall (shout out to Tonawanda, NY!) alone with Aunt Rita. This was pretty amazing in that she wanted me to pick out something for my gift, and without my parents there, I was less likely to feel constrained in my choices. Read: greed had free rein. I don't even remember now what I had chosen. What sticks in my mind is the moment when Aunt Rita paused in going through the clearance racks, held up a lovely teal blue dress, and pronounced it perfect for my mother. You were suddenly blinded by the brilliance of the insight, and there were angels singing to accompany this A-ha moment... Her tone of voice, flush with triumph. And when we brought it home and had Mom try it on - it was, in fact, perfect. Color, classic styling, cut, size, everything. It was made for her, at least it looked that way. She wore it for years, and always looked great. And Aunt Rita was able to see all of that in an instant.

Why was this so awe-inspiring? A brief rant on body image, to illustrate the point. We Fonfara women may shop off the rack, but have never been built accordingly. It's true. We're constitutionally ill-suited for anything with an actual waistline. And to call us top-heavy would be kind. Precariously perched is more like it. So pants that fit in the hips and thighs are nowhere close to the button-up zone, and tops that are accomodating to the bustline feature shoulder seams at half-mast. This takes a lot of the fun out of clothes shopping. Anyhow...

Mom and Aunt Rita came to visit me once in Minneapolis, shortly after the Mall of America opened. And we were on a mission. Sadly, my cousin's soon-to-be-ex took everything, leaving an empty house. With the inexplicable hurt, and feeling helpless, there was some solace in shopping. And shop we did. I remember a very long day, and an awful lot of shopping bags. Bedding and way way beyond - lots of bulky stuff. Aunt Rita, Mom and I finally made our way to the parking garage - fully loaded with at least 4 shopping bags each. People parted like the Red Sea while we walked down the hall, men looking horrified. Women were too busy reading the names on our bags to see where we scored such bargains to justify a shopping binge of this magnitude. We brought it all home and the pile was literally a cubic yard or more. It was legendary. We didn't talk about my cousin that much - what was there to say? But there was shopping to do, and we didn't flinch.

Great job purging! Now let's binge!

Friday I wandered the aisles of the Salvation Army Store downtown. An upside of the downturn: they've inherited decent store fixtures, so everything is fairly neat and orderly. Too many clothes to go through, which is fine. A bit of disincentive is a good thing. They had lots of games , toys, shoes, etc. which was impressive for a Friday. (They generally have the new stuff out on Mondays and Tuesdays (you didn't hear it from me.) I picked up a couple of pairs of kids mittens, but didn't find anything else that met the new standards of need vs. want. And I had little or no cash with me, and they have a minimum for credit card sales, so I left with nothing. Nada. It wasn't as elating as I'd thought; for some reason it made me a little depressed looking at all the stuff, the assorted detritus of imagined needs and insatiable wants. Apparently it was enough to make me wax poetic. Sorry 'bout that.

Much of my weekend was spent mercilessly culling possessions - and it felt good. I rearranged the kids' room. I got rid of over half of my clothes, 4 crates of books, and assorted junk. The kids clothing will go to a swap my church is having on March 1st. Some books were donated, others will enter the stream of borrow/lend at our local coffee shop. I keep hoping that with less stuff to keep organized, day to day life will be a little easier. It's rather gratifying.

Today X and I did a few errands, then went to a neighborhood playdate. For some reason he wasn't into it, and we didn't last long. We swung by the Social Security office but the line was too long. I just need a replacement card, not to wait for an hour with a squirmy preschooler in a crowded office. Since we were downtown anyways... And since L has a birthday this week... And X wanted to help pick out a birthday present...

Insert your favorite justification here:




So back to the Salvation Army, although were supposed to stay upstairs in the secondhand store part. (Downstairs has more samples and closeouts, so aren't exactly used, and it feels like a cop-out.) For $3, a nice dart board. A couple of movies, a buck each. For $2 a playground for Littlest Pet Shop creatures. And a frame for $2, so I can start displaying some of that amazing kid art, rather than letting it accumulate in piles that get unintentionally ruined/recycled. But I draw the line at used stuffed toys, and we were in search of puppies although we'd rather have a real one...

Two cuddly dogs, $2 each. Two mini car sets, $2 each. A fully poseable horseback riding doll for a friend's stable, $3. A magnetic toy set for the preschool, $5. You should sense a theme... Such a bargain! I like to buy for others. But mostly I just like to buy. Admitting it is half the battle; I guess the rest of it is simply blogworthy.

I'm waiting for the guilt to kick in.