My little problem....

So I have spent a lot of my life being broke. I just graduated college last year, so pretty much that whole 4ish years was spent being broke.

I don't think it was bad and I don't regret it at all. I definitely honed my money management skills (such as eating ramen for a month after I got a speeding ticket so I could pay it on my own and would never have to tell my parents...which, I guess, they'll find out about now... ) and I learned, as cheesy as it sounds, to really appreciate the things I did have and how to make do with less. I continued being broke-ish after we got married because I was still in college, making us a one-income family. I actually thought we were really rich, which is funny because Ty, who was used to just supporting himself on his income, suddenly felt broke. Anyway.

Then I graduated.

Then I got a job.

A big girl job with insurance benefits and retirement and paid sick and personal days. 10 of them. Which I used up for my maternity leave but oh well.
Sweet.

And then I got my first paycheck. I had no idea what to expect. And when the principal brought around our paystubs, I had to sit down in shock after I opened mine. Because it was a lot.

Probably not to most people. I am a teacher, after all.

But for the girl who had spent the last year working a 100 hours a semester job, making approximately $250.00 (no you didn't read that wrong) a month, it was basically a truckload.

I remember wanting to cry. That was weird of me.

Anyway. We live in an expensive little place and saving is still really important to me, but, even so, I have more disposable income these days.

Disposable income that I spend on......
adorable clothes.
for Isla.
It's a problem. An addiction, realy.
It started with Amazon and their freakishly uninhibiting free two day shipping, and it's being fueled even more by Zulily.

My brother told me, "she's not a doll, Jo, you can't just dress her up and change her clothes whenever you feel like it."

To which I said, "Yes. Actually, I can."  (I consider it my perogative as a mother--the person who also deals with all of the not so pleasant baby stuff (you know, projectile vomit, blowouts, etc) too. Ruffles make up for blowouts. It's just a fact of life.)


And yes, actually, I do.

Please admire the following photos.

so. many. ruffles.

so. much. love.

and now, I think I'll see what kind of online deals I can score today.....