I was recently given the opportunity to test out the site Topcashback. As the name suggests, you earn cash back on your purchases through the site. Lots of retailers are signed up – from fashion brands to utilities companies. Each retailer offers different amounts of money back, from the odd percent right up to as much as 20 percent. The money comes from the commission they pay Topcashback for your custom (you click a link to their site through Topcashback), some of which is then paid back into your own account. Anyway, I had planned to buy something for Christmas – maybe a present for my three year old or something to decorate the house with. But I didn’t. 

Instead, I spent the money on something rather frivolous. A little bit of luxury that I’ve been hankering after for a while.

These towels are like a glimmering symbol of change.

OK, that may be a bit dramatic, but they are a big deal. Let me tell you why: I am rubbish at treating myself. Whenever I spend money on something that we don’t really need then I get a pang of guilt. It’s ridiculous, but true.

So the £80.50 I spent on 3 bath towels, 2 hand towels and a swanky bath mat is a momentous occasion. And for that £80.50, I received £3.51 cash back. That’s £3.51 I wouldn’t have had if I had bought directly from the retailer. I am stemming the flow of guilt further by the fact I made a saving of £12.50 on the towels, as the original price would have come to £93. So, I am £16.01 better off than I would have been. I’m calling it an early Christmas present to myself.

Regardless of the savings, sometimes you do need to be kind to yourself. I’ve learned that the hard way this week. Five nights in a row of four hours’ sleep, in two hour increments, has taken its toll. Frog has been poorly, stuck at home with me and reverting to newborn sleeping patterns. When my mum rang this morning to ask how things were I just snapped. I don’t know what it is about hearing my mum’s voice but, if I’m on the edge of an emotional meltdown, it always sends me into floods of tears!

As I write this, I’m sitting in my parents’ kitchen, with my daughter sleeping soundly upstairs. I had to come here to get some work done and catch up on some sleep, with my parents giving me a hand to keep my poorly-but-not-really-poorly three year old occupied. Buying these towels has given me a much-needed boost. Never underestimate the power of a little treat.

“Egyptian cotton”, “luxurious” and “everyday indulgence” are the words used to describe these towels of joy. If they could sing, I imagine they would crack out a sweet angelic melody that would soothe you off into a blissful sleep. I may be placing high expectations on these beauties, but I don’t care. Sometimes you have to splurge a bit.

If they’re lucky, I may even let the daughter and husband use them too.

***

Disclosure: Thanks to Topcashback for giving me the chance to be a bit frivolous. In order to write this post, I was given money towards my purchase through Topcashback. All opinions remain my own. 

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This is exactly what happened this weekend, as I headed back to Bristol – the city where I was born and raised – to spend an afternoon and evening with my oldest buddy.

Not being a multi-millionaire, having a nanny or a horde of servants, it tends to be rare that I have my tea cooked for me, let alone champagne served to me. It was lovely.

After a morning cuppa with my blogging mate Gemma and a mooch along Gloucester Road, followed by an afternoon and evening of bliss with my old school friend, I headed back home the next day feeling thoroughly looked after.

My zen-like mood must have radiated onto my toddler, because we managed an afternoon at the park with zero tantrums. And then – because it would be rude not to make the most of the sunshine – we took advantage of the outdoor barbecue at our local pub.

The detox begins next week. Maybe.

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Not this weekend.

On Friday, I made a decision. As I drove home from work, I passed – on impulse – the junction I usually take on the motorway. Instead, I drove a few more miles so I could take a solo trip to the supermarket. Whilst there, I bought a few bits for supper, a huge mixture of bubble solution for my toddler, plus a brilliant red nail varnish and a bottle of Prosecco for myself. And I didn’t allow myself to feel a hint of guilt.

On Friday night, after putting my two year old to bed, I poured myself a glass of bubbles and settled down to paint my toenails and my fingernails. I didn’t even switch my computer on – the emails could wait.

It felt good, this indulgence. Rather than feeling guilty at doing something just for myself, I felt pleased.

I used to read around two to three books a month, often before going to bed. Now, I never read. I’m too tired or too busy to pick up a book, unless I have a few days off. Reading was such a huge part of who I was, that I’m embarrassed to say it’s a pleasure I rarely indulge in any more. I never treat myself. I rarely buy clothes for myself. In the supermarket, I browse the aisles, looking for the things I know my husband and daughter love. I come home and unpack them, excited to see their reactions. And then I wonder why it’s always me who gets the treats, me bothering to make things nice, me being the thoughtful one.

The thing is, it’s absolutely my own fault. If you’re happy to give and make things nice and look after people, they will be happy too. If you don’t put yourself first EVER, why should anyone else? If you don’t sometimes just throw your hands in the air and say, “I’M doing THIS right now, because it’s something I want to do” then how will anyone know? People are not mind readers, after all.

Yesterday, we went into town. I bought a pair of trainers, a pair of wellies and a pair of slippers for my growing child. And then I bought two tops, a pair of trousers and two pairs of shoes for myself. Wandering back to the car, I spied a specialist cheese shop, hidden along an alleyway next to one of those bridal boutique stores. “Wouldn’t it be nice to buy some posh cheese one time?” I mused to my husband. “Let’s get some now,” he said. “Go on, for tonight. You love cheese – when was the last time you had some nice cheese?”

So I did.

I went in to this posh cheese shop and spent a good ten minutes tasting little nuggets of cheese. I spent over a tenner on fancy cheese and crackers, excited by my haul and laughing with my husband at being “ridiculously indulgent”.

I ate some of my fancy pants cheese last night. And I wore my shoes today. And I looked at my nails while I drank a gin and tonic on a family trip to our local beer garden.

And I smiled.

Because sometimes, you know, you just have to treat yourself. And I don’t even feel guilty.

New shoes x2

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