I have a problem

Hi, my name is Kathleen and I'm a shop-a-holic.

[Hi Kathleen.]

I'm pretty sure if our mailroom guy at work* has to deliver one more box to my desk this week, he will call me and tell me to deliver it myself. And he would be justified in doing so.

I like shopping for things. I always have. Not crazy, spending beyond my means shopping, but I always got a warm fuzzy feeling when I found a good deal, discovered the perfect gift or assembled a cute outfit.

Then this adorable little man entered into the equation.


And I LOVE shopping for him. Oh boy I do. I can't control myself. It's the perfect combination of finding a good deal (tiny clothes cost less and are often on sale), giving a gift (sort of) and assembling a cute outfit (a well-dressed baby is the best accessory, right?).

Let me describe a scene: I sit at my desk, absorbing the barrage of information from my Bloomberg, responding to emails, perhaps reading a research report or memo on my screen. Bee-boop! - My Google notifier pops up to let me know I have gmail - oh, nice, a sale at Ann Taylor! I should check that out soon. Bee-boop! 30% off at Banana Republic, hmm, do I need anything there? I'll look later. Bee-boop! Bloomingdales Friends and Family - I should do some shoe shopping. I probably need something!

I'm totally in control of my shopping addiction. Until... Bee-boop!

O. M. G. Janie and Jack is having a friends and family sale!!!!!!! These shoes are the cutest shoes ever.

I need them. Oh, and look a line of dinosaur-themed clothing!

I NEED that! Um, er, Will NEEDS that!!!

Bee-boop! Gap Give and Get!! Holy crap! I love Baby Gap and Old Navy has great jeans and I saw an ADORABLE Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles shirt there the other day that I NEED, I mean, Will NEEDS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Yeah, I seem to misplace my self-control whenever I get an email about cute clothes. It's almost like the baby clothing stores know that. It must be why they keep emailing me - I have a problem.



* I send packages to work because I don't feel good about leaving them at my front door at home during the day. Our poor mailroom guy suffers the consequences.