There’s this hashtag on Twitter.

#firstworldproblems

People use it (by people I mean, well, me) as kind of an ironic joke. About how good we have it, but still seem discontent. Really, it’s not a joke. It’s more of a rationale for our complaints.

Kind of like this:

“I’m complaining. But I know my life is good and other people are less fortunate. So because I am aware and have acknowledged the less fortunate, I am now free to complain. #firstworldproblems”

–

Yesterday morning I made my children breakfast – vegemite toast for the Two, and “monkeys” for Roo.

Monkeys are Coco Pops and it took me right up until last night to realise that when she has been asking for monkeys for breakfast for the past three days (and have been ignoring said request or explaining to her that we don’t have any monkeys for breakfast because I don’t know what the monkeys are) that is what she has meant.

I had organic yogurt and frozen raspberries. My husband had vegemite toast and made us both a cup of tea.

The children finished their breakfast, and after some crying from Roo when she didn’t want to eat the rest of her monkeys we up and left the kitchen to come to the loungeroom and continue Dora-fest.

When my husband, very considerately, tried to bring me my cup of tea I sent him back to the kitchen, because the children were foul and there was no way I would be able to sit in peace and drink a cup of tea with the three ferals running around.

I decided pretty quickly after that that our family would implode if we stayed in the house all day, so we all got dressed and headed to Maccas.

Coffee frappe for me, hot chocolate for Pal, cupcakes for the children and a good 45 minutes on the play equipment.

I wore my new lipstick. The twins wore their pajamas under their clothes – both for warmth and ease. Rory wore her new gumboots her Meemah bought her because she likes to wear them everywhere.

Pal wore his black running shoes under his jeans, which usually I would raise an eyebrow and tell him to go find his converse because we don’t wear joggers under jeans in this family. Today I indulged him because he couldn’t find his second converse shoe, and he has a sore foot and the joggers would be more comfortable.

After Maccas we headed towards the Land of Burning Pockets (Harvey Norman), but it was still closed so we headed to Big W.

Where we oohed and aahed over new carseats, sat Rory in the one we liked best to check for fit (big tick, by the way), wandered around the store, argued over the merits of orange suede pointy toed high heels and The Renovator Tool, checked out shoes for the kids and eyed off cameras.

Then, we headed back out to Harvey Norman, where I reapplied my new lipstick in the car. I spent the next half an hour alternating between rousing on Roo for climbing on couches and looking at all the stuff we could get with our extra money and wishing my husband wanted to get the same stuff as me. We asked about couches and cameras and hand mixers and it was all very frustrating, confusing and time consuming.

Not in the least for the poor sales people who saw us coming from a mile away but still didn’t manage to sell us anything, because the money doesn’t go into our account until tomorrow.

And then I came home with the Two, while Pal went out to his mothers to help with Rory. I’m not actually sure how much of a help either of them were but they made the effort and that’s all that counts.

After making the Two their lunch and putting them to bed, I spoke to My Bestie Amelia on the phone for an hour – about all the things I wanted to buy, and that Pal wanted to buy, and about how I just wish Pal wanted to buy the same things as me.

I got very angry at Pal, while he was out at his mother’s helping, because he wants tools and a new gps for the car and I want shelves and tall boys, orange suede shoes and a hand mixer.

And then I got off the phone, because I needed to calm down, and I also needed a shower. So I had a shower to calm down.

I made myself lunch – and I wasn’t sure if I wanted cut up vegetables or last night’s left over corned beef on toast – so I had a little of both. And when I sat down to eat in front of my laptop, and saw a link to this post from Eden come up.

And I felt thoroughly ashamed of myself.

You could hashtag my ENTIRE day with #firstworldproblems.

The thing with Eden is that she ALWAYS makes you think, ALWAYS makes you feel, and sometimes that thinking and feeling leads to a breakthrough, and other times it leads to a lot of thinking and feeling and yet you still end up carrying on as you always have.

And I’m not sure how I’ll carry on, with my house and my children and my husband, with all our food and our stuff, and our money burning a hole in our pockets.

But I know that if someone’s piece of writing can make you feel and think the way Eden’s does, then you should probably be using that thinking and feeling to DO something…