Balancing the trolley

You are totally forgiven for thinking I am neurotic. Because I am. And if you didn't realise that before now, reading this will make it crystal clear.

I recently went grocery shopping with Miss I. It was a rainy Saturday at a busy shopping centre so it was hardly ideal but our cupboards were bare and Mr G was working so I had no choice. Miss I was actually in great form, so long as she was holding the list and the pen and I made no gesture towards touching either. It also helped that Coles were offering toasted hot cross buns with butter. So, unlike some trips where the only neurotic behaviour in my immediate vicinity comes from my adorable companion, on this occasion I only had myself to blame.

Mr G and I plan meals each week, write a list and do the shop accordingly. Admittedly we go through periods where the roster of meals that appears on our weekly menu are, err, identical, but we still do the shop by list thing. It does save time and possibly money but most valuably it cuts down decision making during the week. As I manoeuvred my trolley around the people-packed aisles I became aware of the dialogue inside my head. Always an enlightening exercise. There were three threads of thought fighting one another for airtime. Budget. Convenience. Nutrition.

As I picked up each item to instruct Miss I to cross off our list* I was quietly appraising its performance against the criteria eating their way through my thoughts. I soon realised the problem, and source of my minor mental anguish, was that my key criteria do not always co-exist happily. In many cases they're contradictory. Convenient items are often more expensive; but they save me precious time and sanity when it comes to preparing an evening meal in ten minutes flat. They're also not always as nutritious as preparing meals from scratch but that's not always feasible. At least not every night. Another catch is that the healthier products are usually more expensive – wholegrain bread is almost double the price of plain white bread; lean meat is always more expensive than the fattier cuts; healthy snacks like nuts and trail mix cost a small fortune. And so it goes on.

I can't sacrifice any of the competing priorities because cost, nutrition and convenience all matter in the NABM household. So instead it is a balancing act. One that until that particular day I hadn't realised I participated in.

It dawned on me afterwards that the balancing act of doing our groceries is not unlike the various balancing acts we all inadvertently undertake during the course of our lives. Whether it's balancing study time with leisure; work with exercise; family time with personal pursuits; friends with partners; spending with saving; chocolate with broccoli; wine with water; the news with reality television; we all balance competing priorities. All the time.

I suppose for someone slightly neurotic like myself, it's important to remember it's not particularly helpful to mentally appraise the elusive balance at every turn. Or at every item on the shelf as it were that Saturday. Shopping with a list should at least save me from that grief.

What priorities are you balancing at the moment? Or do you have any supermarket wisdom?

*I am clearly lying. Miss I has not yet developed the ability to read, write or cross items off a list.