Back in the day, I loved a little retail therapy. If I was holding a grudge from a spat with Really Big Guy or feeling frumpy with my mom wardrobe, there was nothing like a bit of spontaneous shopping to boost my spirits.

It wasn’t anything excessive. Nothing that would tap into the kids’ college fund. Or have a detrimental impact on my ability to buy weekly groceries. Just something mildly decadent.

It used to be glorious. Invigorating. But recently, the retail therapy gods have spoken, and they don’t like my habit.

These so called gods are actually around 4 feet tall (give or take). And they’re more like good, old fashioned, elementary school hall monitors. I was one in the 5th grade. I wore the sash and stood in the hallway, reminding my class mates to walk please. Stop running. Put the Visa card back in the wallet.

Yes, Big Guy and Little Guy have become my hall monitors. Rest assured, every time I take that little plastic card out to swipe it, they’re leaning over my shoulder. Asking me if the purchase was in the budget.

Which begs a bigger question, when did my kids start listening? We preach to our children the important life lessons: Don’t trust strangers, hard work pays off, a penny saved is a penny earned. They hear us talking, but I’ve always wondered if the messages sink in.

Unfortunately for me, the money message has. Big Guy and Little Guy now understand delayed gratification. Sleeping on something before you decide to purchase it. And budgeting. From something as necessary as groceries to the excessive, when and if can we afford it, Disney trip.

This trait, which will serve them well as adults, certainly doesn’t come from me. Really Big Guy is much more the planner, the methodical spender, a comparison shopper. And thank goodness he is. For I am impulsive. I may not break the bank, but I don’t follow the plan.

Over the summer, Really Big Guy asked me to curb my retail therapy habit. And, unknown to me, he enlisted the help of the boys, who were all too eager to help. So much so that I wonder if their father had perhaps slipped them a few bucks in an effort to keep me in line.

It used to be, when I was out with the kids that I was able to slip into the J. Crew store under the pretense of just wanting to look at something. That comment alone was enough to distract them while I picked up a shirt. And maybe a pair of shoes. On sale, of course.

There was a time I’d get lost in the aisles at Target and end up with a cart overflowing instead of just the 10 items on my list. This too went unnoticed. Or could be erased by a promise of popcorn at the snack bar.

But this summer, thanks to Really Big Guy’s request, things changed. My boys were transformed from complaining kids being dragged on errands to responsible children, armed with a calculator and a list, all too excited to do their job.

Maybe you saw us at the Harris Teeter. While one of my hall monitors fetched items off the shelves, the other would tally the cost. And they’d both tell me to slowly back away from the buy one, get one free Breyer’s ice cream. It wasn’t on the list.

At Target, the easiest and one of my most favorite places to blow a budget, little hands reached up to shield my eyes from the makeup section, the kids knowing far too well that the lure of neatly arranged mascaras promising to make my lashes two inches longer would surely sucker me in. “Steer away, mom, just steer away!” I heard.

At the check out, we played “The Price is Right”. The winner got bragging rights. While I got lots of praise for cooperating and being responsible.

This should have made me happy. But it didn’t. For all my fun was gone. My hall monitors were always working. In the mall, they’d coach me to overcome my longing to run toward my clothing haven. At home, they stood behind me, telling me to get up carefully and step away from the keyboard while I browsed on skinstore.com, for who can resist free shipping with a $50 order?

Of course I see the big picture. But old habits are hard to break. And the true test lies ahead because the kids are back in school.

Without my hall monitors, I’m not sure I can fight my body’s natural urge to head towards Crabtree. Heaven help me as I drive by North Hills. At the grocery, how will I conquer the desire to try a new cereal that promises to taste delicious while fulfilling my daily nutritional requirements? And goodness, I hope some kind of alarm will sound as I pull into the Target parking lot, because once I walk in and grab my cart I’m down for the count.

So if you see me heading off the beaten path, please help me stay on track. Otherwise, I may be forced to home school.

Illyse appears every Thursday on TriangleMom2Mom.