Here I am, two weeks out from the birth of my baby daughter, an oddball in among all the other young mums I know.
I admire their latest purchases for their kids - the teeny tiny sandals, the cute little onesies, the miniature biker jackets. I laugh (or cringe) at the myriad of talking toys (all requiring batteries), the educational plastic whatsits, the TV tie-in plush dolls.
I don't buy any of it.
One of my friends (due mid-year) commented recently how parenthood seems to be merely an excuse to buy thousands of dollars of often unnecessary equipment these days.
Do young parents really need a change table? Our baby daughter is changed on the kitchen table, just like I was by my parents when I was a bub.
Do babies really need 45 outfits (for every occasion), mini leather jackets, fifteen 'my first teddy bear' toys, and enough bunny rugs to stretch to the moon and back?
Every department and budget store worth its salt seems to publish 'baby must-have' lists that stretch almost as endlessly - one free book provided to me when I had my son even listed a Toyota Landcruiser on its 'must-have' list!
These lists seem designed to turn even the most budget-conscious parents into uber-consumers, and happy young parents into gibbering, quivering wrecks of parenthood, who forever wonder whether their child will suffer if they don't buy exactly the right electric swing and baby walker for their little bundle of joy.
Confidence and happiness gets twisted into insecurity, and security is sought in the purchase of yet more items that promise to fill the gaps and make parenthood a sure success.
Which is what consumerism is ultimately about, of course. Consumerism sells insecurities, then markets a dream in the form of products as a 'cure'.
As a society, we're spending more and more time at work, earning the dollars to buy the latest, the greatest, the prettiest and the best - but in the meanwhile we're losing touch with what's real and meaningful. Our kids might look great in the latest fashion, but what's the point if we're slinging them in child care 5 days a week to pay for it all?
Having the image of being the perfect, 'family beautiful' might be great on the outside, but we really need to question our priorities if we don't put our kids, their health, and the health of the planet above wearing trendy outfits on the ladder of importance.
With my baby girl I'm stepping away from the dream that is sold to us in catalogues and on TV. She's proudly wearing 90%+ hand-me-down clothes, and the only new items she wears are her nappies and baby socks (impossible to get second-hand).
I'm not saying I don't feel the pull of consumerism, luring me to the malls and the stores and the baby boutiques. I do. But as a member of The Compact, a serious Downshifter, and a longstanding Greenie, I know that my baby is just as happy in last year's baby fashions, and that the love and care and thought we spend on her is worth far more than any stupid Toyota Landcruiser.